#hypothetical super forms

[lore-of-mobius]

Hypothetical Super Forms Hypothesis

So in a previous post I've brought up the idea that Super Forms for characters like Sonic, Knuckles, and Amy are just Super Powers and not accessible unless they are on NorthStar Island. But it is possible this is not the case and there is an alternative answer.

In Sonic Twitter & TikTok Takeover #7 - All Answers at 8:46 they could very well be referring to the unique powers the Chaos Emeralds display specifically on NorthStar Island, Eggman even commenting on how it would be useful to slow Sonic down.

Second the Knuckles, Tails, Amy, Mighty and Ray being able to go super can be seen as something they can do, they just have canonically not done before. Think like how there is many endings to Shadow The Hedgehog, but only one canon ending.

This would also mean Knuckles' joke in Sonic Frontiers about becoming Super Knuckles is a possibility. But here is how I see it. Characters like Knuckles choose not to go Super, even using the Master Emerald. As he is shown to be very against people using the power of the Master emerald for any means. As he says in TailsTube #3 (feat. Knuckles), "it is not my place to use the Emerald's power. It is my job to protect it."

Meanwhile other characters don't seek out the emeralds because Sonic is the one who is on an adventure against Eggman, though the may grab one if they find one or are given one. Tails usually has an interest in them for machines, Rouge just likes jewels in general, etc. In addition, the others probably just rely on Sonic to get the job done if with the Emeralds, especially since he has the most experience with them excluding Shadow and Silver. But even they will at times just let Sonic do what he needs to do. Also, while Eggman seeks out the emeralds he can't use them to go super himself.

Now while Sonic Superstars says Tails, Knuckles, and Amy just get Super Powers, this seems to be just Sonic Team not wanting to call them Super Forms even though for all intents and purposes they are Super Forms. Similar to what is happening with Blaze and Trip. Also, Super forms don't have to have their appearance be changed to a golden hue. Aside from Blaze's being a pinkish red, Metal Sonic in his base form just has a yellow aura but this is still him going Super. Super Forms can even work differently from other characters like Mecha Sonic's which only lasts for a little bit.

Finally we do know a multiverse exists thanks to Sonic Speed Sim being canon, and also thanks to TailsTube #4 (feat. Amy Rose) the multiverse doesn't have universes like the Prime universe. In other words there can be universes where Sonic Friends have gone super.

In addition, because of Speed Sim, we know the Movie universe is part of this multiverse, and the Chaos Emeralds work differently. Whether is be the ability to create a Chili Dog going with the idea of turning thoughts into power, not being limited by rings , being limited on how long you can maintain a Super Form, or the fact Eggman can go super. This would mean there are other universes don't have to abide by the rules of the prime universe when it comes to the emeralds.

[luci-z-wont-shut-up]

I'd like yalls help w something, please

Regardless of its intelligence level, how many non-human creatures have Arthur and John had an emotionally positive experience with?bc I am wracking my brain and the only ones I can come up with are the lamp-eft, the buopoth, the cana, and the owl (I have yet to figure out if cana is a species or a job title but yall know who I'm talking about)

If anyone can fact-check/correct/update me on this I'd appreciate it so much 🙏

[blushinggoku]

Been watching some dbs related videos and I'm sosoo glad I gave up on that anime because oh my god the story gets worse with every arc. Wtf are they even doing anymore

[vamptastic]

while i am also put off by the insistence to at all times use the most inflammatory, insulting, and condescending language towards anybody who disagrees with their fringe beliefs, the primary reason i just cannot engage with T/ERF bullshit even for the sake of trying to break down why they believe the things they do is the utter and complete lack of unbiased sources. seriously, every single time its like, transwomenareevil.com and every article is talking about a crime some random trans woman committed using the most libelous language possible. they legitimately read like a list of crimes read out before a mob before someone is shot in the head. no statistics, not even unbiased analysis of anecdotal examples, the vast majority of scientific articles they do attempt to cite, usually regarding medical transition, are meta analysis that do not actually support their claims if you, yknow, fucking read them (as always its 'more data needed'). it's all based on kneejerk disgust reactions or fear stemming from personal trauma. not the kind of thing im inclined to humor as a basis for how i want to conduct my life or what laws i want passed. and the entire time they're all convinced they're the only real feminists and the rest of us are idiots who have never heard of systematic oppression before.

[sonic-elements]

Revamping this!

Hypothetical Super Element

Element having his first taste of Chaos energy and well let's just say it's Super

Its More Of Hypothetical Scenario If He was Able to use the Chaos Emeralds. However due to His Other Dimensional Anatomy, He isn't Able to harness a Super form. He can Use the Energy Of The Chaos Emeralds for They're Energy. But If He tried Using the energy all at once, He'll Cause One Heck Of an Explosion.

[kyri45]

SO

since Wukong's War Form ain't got no bones

HYPOTHETICALLY

he could turn his head all the way around so

HYPOTHETICALLY

he could maximize husband smooches by going war form and spinning his head like a geyblade?

Holy shit you guys REALLY like the thought of giant monkeys being super gay to each other (I do too)

[biracy]

Last rb also has me thinking on like. People conceive of sexual violence as like The Ultimate Form of violence, which manifests itself in two major ways in writing fiction: denying any possible subtext or allegory of sexual violence even in a story about many many many other kinds of violence, or shoehorning sexual violence into an already deeply violent and abusive dynamic to show how Super Totally Fucked Up it is now. And honestly I think tlt fans are "guilty" of like. both of these? There is a very obvious bloc of tlt fans who pointedly ignore the very obvious themes of sexual violence and misogynistic violence overall in the text (as if forcing the soul of the Earth into the body of a beautiful woman you then lock away forever isn't a metaphor for sexual assault), but I'd also argue there's a smaller, yet still present, subset of fans who like, don't seem to realize that grooming a) can exist outside of the context of sexual abuse and b) is still bad even if no sexual abuse is present. I'm not even necessarily against certain reads of like, Kiriona as her father's cavalier being potentially allegorically incestuous, but also I don't think there would need to be sexual violence there for that dynamic to still be abusive. John is, whether biological or surrogate, the "father" of the two teenagers he manipulates the most, and I think it's important to realize that the weaponization of fatherhood is always bad, even if it never "crosses the line" into explicit sexual violence. There are other kinds of abuse and tlt is full of it. Harrowhark is revolted by John's attempts to act paternally towards her because she has only ever known her own parents as forces of control and violence. Harrowhark's parents attempting to get a 10-year-old to commit ritual suicide is actually just as bad as any hypothetical sexual violence between John and Kiriona. In the same way that sexual assault is not "special" in that it should never be written about ever, it's also not "special" in that it is The Most Violence any story can ever have and you know it's Getting Hardcore Now when abuse "escalates" from physical or psychological to sexual

[seattlesellie]

e. williams — moonflower.

pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader

synopsis: it’s ellie’s birthday, and you have three gifts for her. a moonflower bouquet, the latest savage starlight, and a pin from joel. maybe, you even have a fourth one.

warnings: smut (mdni), established relationship, dom!ellie, sub!reader, inexperienced reader, loss of virginity (r!), first time everything, loads of praise, loads of romance, cute little slaps, and as weird as it is to include this in these warnings; mentions of joel and ellie’s complicated relationship.

an: finally finished it. this is very very fluffy, as smutty as it may be. if you love flowers this one’s for you <3 i truly could have made this longer but i was super self conscious so i might post a little blurb instead!! constructive criticism and all comments n discussions are very much appreciated. thank you for being patient and sweet i love u 💗

enveloped up in a baby blue ribbon, it sits pretty on top of your duvet. the latest edition of “savage starlight” — ellie’s favorite comics series, and a bouquet of flowers. when you picked them out just for her— forehead glistening under the radiant june sun, you noticed a singular flower that set itself apart from the others. blinding white, trumpet shaped— it’s lemon fragrance wafted through the thick air. it's petals were curled up, but you decided to keep it nevertheless. you’ve never seen one quite like it. when you brought it to your house, along with the fresh daisies and the garden roses, you noticed something bizarre, and oh so beautiful.

the odd flower bloomed underneath the moonlight that snuck itself inside the big window of your room. as the white petals unfurled, there you stood— awestruck.

⋆˙⟡♡

you decided to bring it over to louisa, the frail old lady who ran the jackson community garden.

“s’quite beautiful, isn’t it?” you told proudly, taking a whiff of the flowers creamy white petals. louisa ran her fingertips delicately over the flowers green stem, and just like you— louisa was awestruck.

“oh dear, it certainly is. how did you… manage to find it?” louisa probed, and your heart skipped a beat. your relationship with ellie was new, and fresh as a daisy. your face flushed, but you told louisa— your precious confidant, nevertheless. “ellie’s birthday’s coming up soon… so i, was picking up some flowers for her. s’not much, i know… but,” you scratched your arm, feeling extra timid. “i think ellie will like them. i… hope”

louisa smiled soft heartedly, the aged skin around the sides of her eyes folding itself and forming three little lines. somehow, it felt like the old lady knew more about you two than you did. “she’d be a fool not to”, she assured, and pressed tightly on your shoulder.

“i would have asked you if you were in love… but, no need to.”

“how come?”

“it simply shows, pumpkin’”

louisa sighed deeply, and began guiding you towards the humble old basement, where she stored all of her gardening books.

ipomoea alba, the tropical white morning-glory, jimsonweed, or for those of us who are a tad scatterbrained— moonflower. the moonflower, is the most romantic flower of all. it is dreamy, and mysterious, and it yearns for the warm embrace of the sun, but it also requires a cold caress of shade. it slumbers amidst the daylight, closing and hiding its delicate petals up, but during the night— it blooms, and it’s magnificent. as wispy and precious as the moonflower may be, the bloom may also be deadly.

it reminded you of her.

⋆˙⟡♡

ellie and you had numerous conversations about things that were… hypothetical. if you were a planet, which planet would you be?, if you were an animal, which one suits you best, would you say?, make it more specific, even— if you were a bug, what bug would you be? ellie told you were a butterfly, and that she would be a spider.

“don’t… spiders eat butterflies?” you probed, your head resting on top of her shoulder. it was a quiet, chilly night in jackson, and for some reason, being around ellie made you feel scorching. ellie huffed and chuckled, “yeah, think they do”

“well… that sucks” you noted, as a loose strand of ellie’s auburn hair tickled your cheek. ellie thought for a while, and then chuckled again. she did it quite a lot, chuckle to herself without saying a word. “i wouldn’t… eat you though. i’d… build a little web around you. protect you from the other spiders. you could be my personal butterfly… pet, thing”

you hummed, being caged in ellie’s spider web didn’t actually seem all that bad. in fact, it had a certain charm to it. but, wait… “wouldn’t being around me make you hungry?”

ellie’s breath caged in her throat.

it already does.

“guess i’d have to fight against my urges” she rasped, and you nodded.

if you were a butterfly, ellie would be the brave spider who protects you.

if you were a lily; who blooms during the daylight, the resurrection of spring, the goddess oestre, enlightened and wise, ellie was your missing piece. the moon to your sun, and the darkness to your light. the universe thrives because of it’s harmonious balance, and so do you.

⋆˙⟡♡

sugar, flour, cocoa powder, salt, two fresh eggs, a cup of milk, and one cane of sweet vanilla. the chocolate cake was damn near perfect. writing her name on the cake with a thick layer of vanilla icing was extremely precious and necessary to you. woefully, the can was nearing on empty, so— the cake read; “happy birth, el”

you impishly giggled to yourself. sounds like ellie’s going to give birth. with one more dip of your finger inside the rich ganache, you came to a firm and final conclusion— it was heavenly, the perfect balance of sweet and chochlaty bitterness. the secret ingredient that must have made it as amazing as it was, was the espresso powder you traded for a bargain. or maybe, maybe it was love.

“ugh, quit it. cheesy” you silently mumbled to yourself.

⋆˙⟡♡

the weather was hot, and the air felt thick. you always deemed it funny, ellie being a june baby and hating the heat. the town bustled with noise of chatter on a busy monday mornin’, and maria stood with her arms crossed against her chest in the corner. she seemed to be in the midst of scolding a guilty looking tommy, and next to them, were a handful of children giggling in the background.

balancing the chocolate cake, alongside with the gifts sitting inside the brown paper bag (with the pretty blue ribbon you clasped onto it), and the flower bouquet was hard. waddling around the town, on your way to ellie’s house, no wonder you nearly dropped it all on the floor when you bumped into a large man, that hit your front like a stone.

“oh— uh, easy there, kiddo”

you could recognize that rasp and that texas twang everywhere, even when your eyes were squinted, avoiding the rays of the sun.

joel.

you hastily managed to balance it all together again, apologizing profusely to the middle aged man— whomst you almost smashed the entire cake onto. he wore a black button up, it seemed… festive. huh. “headin’ to see ellie, i assume?” joel rasped.

you nodded and smiled politely. you’ve never been completely alone with joel, and most importantly, you’ve never talked to him about ellie. things between them were… complicated. you didn’t know why, and sometimes— you were too afraid to even ask. it all seemed too sensitive. ellie would nearly wince when his name was mentioned, and her eyes would fill with something that seemed like sorrow, or regret, or anger. usually, all of those emotions— all at once.

“that her gift?” he pointed towards the brown paper bag.

“mhm! savage starlight. s’the latest edition… i think”

joel smiled softly, and hummed in response. his eyes too, were filled with something that seemed to hold a droplet of sorrow and regret, but no anger though. different than ellie’s.

“she’s still into it, huh?”

“she’s obsessed” you giggled. truthfully, she had a good reason to be. savage stralight was fucking awesome, you grew to realize. it was even more awesome when she read it to you in the dark, cuddled up in her squeaky bed, holding a flashlight to illuminate the written words. when you dozed off, she’d continue reading out loud, maybe to herself, or maybe for your subconscious to absorb.

“i have… this, thing, uh—“ he shifted awkwardly, and began searching for something in his pockets. joel took it out, and showed it to you while holding it in his palm. the thing he mentioned, was a golden, diamond studded pin of the fallen apollo 1. it was beautiful, highly detailed, it’s unmistakable shine reflecting the rays of the sun.

“found it last week while i was patrollin’”

“it’s… woah” you marveled, running a delicate finger over the polished metal.

“is she… still into the space thing?” the stony man asked with a slightly shaky voice. something in you had to physically fight the urge to pull him into a warm hug.

“yeah… we… well, we went to look at the stars the other day”

joel placed the pin in your hand, and wrapped your fingers around it. “could you give it to her? don’ gotta say it’s from me. tell her you found it”

you nearly choked up.

“joel… you should come with me”

joel sighed, and smiled softly again. joel wasn’t into smiling, but you made ellie smile, and that made joel smile.

“maybe next birthday, kid”

joel, just like louisa, knew ellie loved you before she did. and joel, saw his girl turn from a sulky, sullen teenager, to someone who looked like she had something, someone, to live for.

⋆˙⟡♡

12:00pm, and exactly three knocks on ellie’s wooden door. you’d be lying if you said you weren’t filled with anxiousness. being anxious around ellie wasn’t a strange new feeling. you had butterflies swarming around your belly when she looked at you, had butterflies when she talked to you, especially when she used that one tone, when she got out of the shower with only a small towel wrapped around her glistening body, you had butterflies, or better yet— a painfully lage bee colony growing in your tummy. when she kissed you softly, the bees calmed down and were a little more subtle, you could imagine them having black oogly heart eyes— but when she kissed you roughly, forcefully against the wall (or against the concrete floor that one time), the bees buzzed uncontrollably, and somehow flew down to a lower part of your body. when she grabbed your waist and gave it a squeeze, as she ravished your mouth with her wet tongue, they went even lower and…

well, anyways— ellie made you nervous. handing her her gifts made you nervous and having her first birthday with you made you even more nervous. you were a fuzzy ball of nervousness and anticipation, and now ellie opened the door and you nearly dropped the cake on the ground.

again.

usually, ellie would greet you with a shy “hey”. exactly a week ago, she added a “babe” to it. (the belly bee colony buzzed and they were tremendously loud, you thought ellie could possibly hear them — so you had to hold on to your tummy) today, ellie greeted you with blown out eyes and a gasp. “oh…”

“happy birthday” you mumbled adorably as if it was a hushed little secret, too shy to look her in the eyes. ellie was too shy too, a coy smile painted on her lips, rosy cheeked, with her hands clamped in two fists inside her oversized grey sweater (it’s june, she would not let that hoodie go). her pupils were glued to the “happy birth, el” written in white icing.

when she felt bold enough to look you in the eyes after not speaking (just staring) for one whole minute, as soon as she caught your gaze— your orbs began dancing around everything you saw, purely avoiding her look but with a huge grin plastered on your sweet, overly excited face.

would it be stupid for ellie to tell you that she loved you right now? because it was getting incredibly hard not to.

instead of a (perhaps) misplaced i love you, ellie decided a pure “thank you” would be have to suffice. she held the door for you, and you shyly tiptoed in. when you placed the chocolate cake on top of the oakwood counter along with the paper bag, you felt ellie’s hands shyly creeping up to your waist, pulling you in a tight hug. “you really… really, shouldn’t have” she whispered. her voice was still groggy, lazy, raspy.

it was her morning voice.

funnily enough, this was your first time hearing it. you never stayed over past 2am— the night was dangerous in your eyes. the night meant going to sleep, it meant staying in her bed, and it meant sleeping with her inside of it. the idea of a night with ellie felt as if the bee colony in your stomach was about to erupt and explode and splatter everywhere.

“you know i don’t… celebrate these things” ellie rasped again, breaking you off from your idle thoughts. you placed your hand over hers, and giggled. “s’not a thing, el… it’s your birthday”, ellie hummed in agreement, and you continued. “besides, it’s an—“ she planted a soft, chaste kiss on your neck. it made you shudder and it made your voice break. “an… excuse to eat some cake”

“just cake?”, ellie sighed, her raspy voice tickling your cheek.

“mhm” you nodded, distracted as ever.

“whats in that paper bag then, huh?”

the flower only blooms during the night, and savage starlight was meant to be consumed with the help of a trusty ol’ flashlight, under a thick blanket. the sun was still out, so the moonflower slept. for the comics, you wouldn’t need a flashlight, and that would simply demolish all of the fun.

the sun was still out so unfortunately, ellie will have to sit and patiently wait.

you pull yourself out of her hug, and waltz away slowly. “well… paper bags for later”, you tilt your head, drawing out your words just to tease her and then some. “so, not gonna show you what’s in there”

ellie raises a brow, a slight half smirk creeping up on her face. saying ellie was a patient girl, would be similar to saying a cat doesn't walk on four. technically, it could… be biped, but— well, wouldn’t quite work. so similarly, patient and ellie couldn’t quite work either.

“you gonna say no to me on my birthday?” she jests, pulling her arms and crossing them over her grey hoodie ridden chest.

“oohh…” you nod twice, “so now you do celebrate these things?” you teasingly raise an eyebrow, mirroring her stance. ellie chuckles and it comes out from deep within her throat. she squints her eyes, “you’re such a tease”

she must not know one of the bee’s just stung the insides of your own stomach and dropped dead. or maybe it’s not dead yet, because you can still feel it’s erratic buzzing and the venom makes you feel as if you’re about to pass out.

“mhm… it’s okay, i’ll wait, babe” — there’s that babe again, and the little bee is definitely dead by now.

“can we eat the cake outside? s’nice, warm… we could do a picnic!” you chirp, each and every single one of your words laced with that syrupy sweetness that makes ellie melt.

ellie smiles and feels a little blush creeping up on the apples of her cheeks. “could do… whatever you want, it’s your cake” she states, and you roll your eyes at her sweet humility. “s’not my cake, it’s yours” you mutter serenely as you point towards the vanilla icing. “see? has your name on it and all”

ellie tries plunging a slender finger into the icing, a foolish attempt to taste it, but you slap it away, a faux pout forming on her face.

“can’t taste my own cake?”

“nope. outside” you speak, popping the p’.

“yes ma’am”

⋆˙⟡♡

you take a sip of the freshly squeezed lemonade, a droplet of sour and sweetness flowing down from the corner of your lips. ellie— propped up by her elbow, brings her thumb and wipes it away. “so messy” she jives playfully, putting the pad of her thumb in her mouth and joyfully sucks on it. she’s squinting her eyes, attempting to avoid the rays of the sun, and you giggle impishly. “can i finally taste my cake now?” she drawls.

impatient as ever, ellie doesn’t even bother pulling out the white plastic fork. instead, she shoves her hand into the cake and takes a big bite. her eyes shut as she devours it, humming at the taste. with her mouth full, she utters “happy birth, el, huh?”.

you breathlessly laugh and nudge her arm away so she almost falls on the checkered, red and white picnic blanket. “sounds like… mmh, fuck, this is good”, she licks her finger — “sounds like m’giving birth”

“i didn’t have any more icing left!” you raise your tone brightly. ellie looks you in the eyes and swallows a sly smirk. this time, it’s your turn to wipe some residue off the corner of her lips. you taste it, and god damn was she right— it’s finger lickin’ good.

“i think that like, when we have babies, you’d be the one to give birth… not my thing. don’t want some… little intruder in my stomach”

before you have time to answer, ellie bites the insides of her cheeks and feels like slapping herself in the face or burying herself 7 feet in the ground. she’s talking about having babies with you?!

she’d smack herself so hard right now if she could.

for you, however, it’s becoming insufferably hard not to start jumping up and down and ripping your hair off in excitement.

“let me get this straight…” you begin, and ellie’s convinced you’re about to tell her that she’s too much and leave. “an intruder, as you put it, can live inside my belly for nine whole months, but not inside yours?”

ellie has to stop herself from breathing a sigh of relief. “it’ll suit you, is all i’m sayin’”

ellie manages to eat half of the creamy chocolate cake all by herself. she was never one to have a big appetite, did you sneak something inside of the batter, perhaps?

maybe it’s love, ellie wonders. she scolds herself internally, quit being such a sap. it’s definitely the espresso powder her taste buds managed to pick up on.

laying face to face with her eyes closed, you manage to count some of her splattered freckles. one… two… fifteen…, some of them grew darker, tanner. ellie’s chest rises up and down, and you almost think she must have dozed off like a little kid having a post—dessert nap, until;

“hey” she whispers.

“hi” you whisper back.

ellie opens her eyes, a soft, lazy half smile adorning her face. she bites her bottom lip, “can i open my present now?”

impatient.

you shake your head softly. “nuh uh, sun’s still out. sorry, els”

she wants to scoff but she loves it when you call her by that little nickname. “but…” you look down shyly, reaching out for your pocket. “i ran into… joel, on my way here” you speak quietly, afraid of saying the wrong thing. ellie blinks twice, and clears her throat. taking it out of your pocket, you place the little precious pin in between ellie and you. ellie only looks at it, doesn’t touch. you can’t quite describe the expression on her face. surprised? dreadful?… doubtful, maybe, and a tad curious perhaps. “he wanted me to give you this… s’the fallen apollo eleven, i think”

ellie let’s out a quiet chuckle.

“apollo one”

she lifts herself up, taking the pin in her hand. her green eyes begin examining it, brushing her fingers on the golden metal. you sit quietly for a while, allowing ellie to be one with her thoughts. she doesn’t know what to think, what to feel, really. sorrow? regret? tears threaten to fill the brim of her eyes, so with her back to you, she sighs deeply and swallows them up. you bring your hand to lay a small caress on the small of her back, and ellie gazes to the side. she grabs your hand, and plants a small kiss on to your fingers. “ellie…” you silently whisper, and ellie sniffles.

“it’s alright, m’okay” she assures, and lays herself on top of the blanket again. her hand still holds your fingers, and you bring them around her thumb and squeeze. “thank you” she voices. before telling her that you’re not the one she should thank, a small tear flows down her cheek. you’d wipe it away, but ellie grabs your other hand and interlocks her fingers with yours. “sometimes it… fuck—“ she laughs, it occurss to both of you you’ve never quite seen her cry. “it’s okay” you comfort. keep going, you got her. ellie deeply sighs, “feels like i don’t deserve any of this”. the tear is hanging from her chin now, then flows down to her neck. you don’t ask her why, because now is not the time, but you’ll ask her one day. for now, all you do is assure her that she does. and for once in her life, she actually might start to believe it.

⋆˙⟡♡

apparently, chocolate cake, raspberry jam and some bubbly champagne (that you stole borrowed from the tipsy bison) can really get you two going. after hours of aimless giggling, tummies hurting from all of the fine delicacies, it’s time for your favourite past time— ellie and yours hypotheticals corner. naturally, with your head laying on top of her firm chest, you’re the one who starts. “okay, so… plants”, you gush. “mhm, so plants” ellie repeats, her fingers tracing lazy circles on your half covered shoulder. “which plant would i be?”

ellie thinks for a while— you two really take this seriously. she hums before responding, puffing some air from her nose. “chocolate plant, for sure”

interesting. you thought she’d say a certain flower, a delicate one, a soft one, one that blooms in the day. chocolate plant. “intersting… why chocolate? — ellie doesn’t quite know either. perhaps it’s because she loves chocolate and she loves you, and the champagne is making her feel giddy and silly and you’re her little chocolate bean, plant thing.

“cause it’s tasty” she responds, and you almost settle on that except… you seem to have an important anecdote you have a blinding urge to point out.

“well, it makes zero sense. you’ve never even tasted me”

that she hasn’t. yet.

ellie’s breath hitches inside her throat and she nearly chokes on her spit. do you know… what you’re doing? you muttered that sentence so innocently, so absentmindedly, and of course she hasn’t tasted you, but did that thought occur in your mind like it did in hers? you’re still smiling, patiently waiting for her response, and ellie can’t help but feel so… well, she couldn’t quite put her finger on what she was feeling. her cheeks however— light up in a shade of dusty pink.

“imagine if you like, ate me! i’d probably taste so…”

sweet? intoxicating?

“gross!” you exclaim, exaggerating and blowing your eyes out. ellie’s cheeks calm down a little, the pretty pink diminishing slowly. “thank god you’re not a cannibal…”

nah, she thinks she might be something worse.

slowly, ellie pushes her body closer to yours. you feel her faint breaths on the tip of your nose. “tickles…” you murmur, and ellie huffs out and smiles. it’s that smile she gives you before saying something. the way her eyes dart from your lips to your eyes… it makes you feel vulnerable, coy, and it’s as if she’s studying you, taking in your features one by one. perhaps, she loves seeing the way your eyelashes flutter like small butterfly wings when you feel her gaze on you.

“i have tasted you though” she rasps, her voice low and husky. her eyes are focused on your lips now, as hers slightly part, and then close up again. “you have?” you mumble, shy under her gaze. she hums, bringing the pad of her thumb to your lips again and pulling on your bottom one slightly. this time, you don’t have lemonade juice running down your chin. this time— the gesture is truly just for her. those lips… she thinks.

“you taste… good. and sweet, like…”, your lips curl up to a smile. “chocolate?” you complete. ellie hums again, her palm cupping your cheek. you feel warm, how are you always so warm? — even when you’re shivering cold, warmth is all she can feel.

“and vanilla… and coconut” she caresses your cheek with her thumb. you giggle, “you’ve never even had coconut”

“nah, but i can imagine…” — and oh, imagine she can. is this the champagne talking? it must be it, because that fizzling bubbly voice in her head would not let her go. funny, she doesn’t even feel drunk. “you taste sweet too” you state, nearly purring into her hand as she keeps delicately caressing your skin. she chuckles, “no i don’t” — and she’s right. she doesn’t taste sweet, in fact, she tastes minty and earthy and it makes you feel dizzy each time.

slowly, ellie gets her face even closer to yours. she sees your eyes twinkling, and she swears they shine brighter than every star she’s ever seen. back in the old times, nasa would have a field trip exploring your orbs. they might even find new galaxies in there, and ellie wishes she could explore each one. she really should have been an astronaut.

“ellie?” you quietly whisper. ellie nearly gets lost in the way you say her name, but responds to you nevertheless. “yeah babe?”

“can i taste you? to prove how… sweet you are?” — she knows you mean her lips, regardless, that dusty pink turns a deeper shade of crimson. she thinks it’s absolutely adorable, how you still feel the need to ask. however, she forgets that she asks you that question each time as well. can she… kiss you here? right below your ear? that feel good?

she doesn’t respond with words, but with actions. she cups your cheek harder now and with fervour, and she knows she needs to be romantic but she’s famished, so as soon as she feels your lips part— she plunges her tongue deep inside and you surrender to her domination. almost like a waltz, your tongues dance together, swirling around each other and tasting— and she still doesn’t taste all that sweet, but you do, and it makes her brain feel like mush. you whimper into her mouth and it almost sounds like your “els”, and she knows she needs to come out for air soon and break off the kiss but how can she? how can she when you’re so damn sweet?

her hand dips lower, placing itself on your throat, and she gives you that little squeeze (that she realised must have made you feel good, because you always had chills when she did and she could feel them), and this time— you really did whimper out her name. ellie groans, but you abruptly break the kiss, holding on to your stomach. she pants slightly, before releasing your throat from her grasp. “did i do something?“ she asks quietly.

thing is, she truly didn’t. in fact, it was that damn bee colony that did. she must have heard them buzzing and flying into each other and bumping into your stomachs walls and dip even lower and— “can you hear them?” you question— and you’re panicking slightly, she can tell.

“hear who?”, ellie looks around, but nobody’s there. intruders? clickers? you must have drank too much, but you really hadn’t so…

“it’s so fuckin’ stupid…” you whine, lowering your head and hiding your face in the crook of her neck. ellie still thinks you must have heard something for real— and by all means, it is real, just not… like that. “hey” she encourages, placing her hand on the back of your neck. if she dares to even move it to the front of it, you’d panic again and be totally screwed. ellie notices you’re holding on to your lower stomach, “does it hurt?” she questions, worrisome.

“no… no, s’not that…” you voice, an octave higher than a whisper. “just when… when you kiss me? like, when you kiss me like that, you know?”, you hide your face again, and ellie’s worried sick— oh god, you hate it. you hate it when she kisses you.

you take a moment to gather your thoughts, you can explain this.

you breathe deeply, and ellie still holds the back of your head. “you know how people say… that you have… butterflies, when you’re around someone you like?”

“uh huh” ellie sighs. she gets it now. you don’t have those butterflies. you get sick when she kisses you, it makes your stomach hurt and you hate it and hate her and she knew you were too good for her and fuck.

“well, mine feel more like… well, they feel violent. it feels like i’m going to explode. i call them my bees, my bee colony, it’s so fucking stupid and i feel like they’re everywhere—“

oh.

ellie laughs (finally), breathlessly so, and she giggles and squeezes your body closer to hers and you continue to ramble, your voice slightly muffled by the fabric of her hoodie. she’s going to squeeze you so hard you might die, and you start banging your hands on her chest and you’re embarrassed, mortified at your little confession and the bees are so mad! they're calling for a conference call and you nearly explode.

“babe, babe—“ ellie calls out, forcing your head out of her neck and nearly begging you to look at her. you don’t though, you shut your eyes tight as she looks at you and thank god you do because she looks so amused but so enamoured she nearly doesn’t even want you to look.

“you wanna know what i have?” she probes, and you finally open one eye to take a peak. “no!”, and immediately— you shut it again. “i don’t have butterflies either” she calmly states, playfully pressing on your nose so you can huff out and look at her. when you do, you expect to see a smile— but instead, you’re faced with a serious expression, ellies eyebrows furrowing.

“i have wasps”

“wasps?” you doubt her quietly.

“mhm…” her lips part and she licks her bottom one before she speaks. “more like… tigers, or like, lions. way worse than yours. i mean, i’m in terrible condition”— she chuckles, and she just might be.

her words don’t comfort you, in fact, they make you buzz even louder.

doe eyed, you look up at her. “lions?”

“mhm” she nods. lions that might just tear you apart on the grass if you keep on looking at her like that.

this time, when she kisses you again— you don’t hold on to your stomach, you place your hand on hers. as the bees grow even louder, crashing into each other and ruining your slippery insides, you swear you can nearly hear her own lions roar alongside with your buzzing. she grabs your neck and squeezes it again, you nearly shriek, and ellie groans into your mouth and she’s the one to stop, but for an entirely different reason now. “inside?” she murmurs, staring at your glistening, kiss swollen lips and at the drool that runs on one corner. “please…” you whine, and ellie’s eyes nearly roll to the back of her head. please…? she repeats in her mind— and oh fuck.

⋆˙⟡♡

so she takes you inside, your hand in hers.

with the chocolate cake and the bottle of champagne and it’s glasses far forgotten, the sweet raspberry jam slowly melting away, the chocolate cake growing into a chocolate… pudding, the ants are sure to come. how pitiful, that bees will always triumph over them, and the wasps— or the lions, well, they triumph over everything.

what ellie wants to do right now, is take you up to her bedroom and ravish you in all your glory, but you’re no forgetful fool. with everything else washed away, how dare you forget her presents?, her moonflowers?

“ellie!” you exclaim, squeezing on her hand. “it’s nighttime! your birthday presents…” you wiggle out your eyebrows.

shit— she nearly forgot, she’s pretty sure that if someone placed an actual living and breathing dinosaur in her living room she wouldn’t even notice because you keep on rendering her a distracted mess.

besides, its your own fault, because how do you do that? how do you go from driving her crazy and making her want to eat you on the grass, to making her heart flutter and burst inside of her chest the moment after? you’re a magician, a witch, what the fuck are you? not a fairy— that’s for sure, fairies are scary.

“so… you wanna open them up or not?”

she wants to open you up. no, no! bad ellie! that’s definitely the champagne still talking (it’s long gone.)

“fuck yeah”

you grab the paper bags (with the little blue ribbon), and drag her upstairs. you physically drag her, because for some reason, opening her presents is making her incredibly nervous. you expected her to be more eager, to snap the bag out of your hand as soon as you allowed her, but instead— she sits on the bed and just waits. she’s waiting for you to hand them out to her.

the nervousness seems to eat you up as well, tummy aching (still the bees, but also some normal excitement)— and as you hand her the bag, a few questions start to arise.

what if she hates it? what if she hates flowers? what if she’s allergic to the ipomea alba, what if she starts sneezing and coughing and dying?! or what if she already managed to get over savage starlight? (in a matter of two days…) what if the cake sucked and she was lying all along and you’d disappoint her and she dumps you and—

“HOLY FUCKIN’ SHIT!!!!!!!!!” — she yelps, you didn’t even notice she opened the damn bag!

“this is…..” her eyes are bright and she smiles so big it nearly damn hurts the apples of her cheeks. “savage fucking star— fuck! s’the latest fucking one! how did you even manage to, fuck— gotta fuckin’ kiss you right now or i’d die”

ellie practically pounces on you, kissing you all over your face. cheeks— two kisses on each one, your nose, your forehead, your chin, both of your earlobes, “close your eyes, gotta kiss ‘em too”, your jaw, your neck…

“are you into me or something? cause it looks like you’re super into me, giving me this fuckin’ gift… dude. if you have feelings for me…”, she places her pointer and her middle finger on your chin and makes you look up at her. you stifle a giggle, “you gotta just tell me, might be into you too” she pecks your lip slowly and you instantly melt.

“we have to read it today… but only eight pages! gotta save it up”

she nearly buries her entire face in the comic book pages. she sniffs, “shit… even smells new” — a layer of fine dust adorns it, so you know it doesn’t.

“rented it from the library!” you chirp, the concept of libraries being one you merely only read about.

“there’s… something else in there too…” you begin. for some reason, giving her those flowers you picked makes you even more nervous. she curiously looks up at you. “there's more?”

you bend down to grab the paper bag off of the wooden floor. the moonflowers’ petals opened up, and there you were— awestruck again. “you can’t give me more things… it’s too much i don’t…” deserve it? you know she thinks so. regardless, she looks up at you adoringly, as your hand tremors and you lift the flowers out of the brown paper bag. you look at them, trying to decide if maybe you were just being delusional, maybe they’re not nearly as pretty as you thought they were when you came across them for the first time. perhaps they’re…

“woah…” ellie gazes at them, wide eyed. she doesn’t even know the meaning of them but yet she is nothing but mesmerised. “wh… what flower is this?” she asks, running her fingers on their dark green stems. when she reaches their creamy white petals, she moves her fingers even more delicately. caressing it, her knee nudges yours.

“moonflower” you reply silently, watching ellie’s digits adoring the bloom. “it’s… it’s really pretty”

you take a deep breath. “i picked it up cause… it reminds me of you”, you exhale, fiddling with your fingers. when she notices, she puts her hand, the one with the flowers in it— on top of yours. the room is quiet, except for ellie’s shallow breaths.

“it um… well… first of all, it’s beautiful, like you”, you flush, and ellie flushes as well. she swallows deeply, and involuntarily, a small “fuck” escapes from her throat.

“and… they’re not supposed to grow in jackson. it was purely by accident, so they’re special… like you, and uh… well, they only bloom during the night, which is why i waited. they’re strong, and they’re deadly, i mean— the venom is… so don’t… eat it, i guess.” you chuckle, and you barely even notice two fat tears streaming down your cheeks. “they remind me of you because they’re the prettiest flowers ive ever seen, and when i saw them… i was kinda of like… woah, just like what happened when i saw you for the first time, remember?” — ellie sniffles, and ellie’s crying. “so… you’re my moonflower”

ellie doesn’t know what to do. she looks up, covering her face with her hands. she wipes away a stupid tear, and then wipes away your precious one.

one whole minute passes.

“if i ever…” she begins, swallowing hard. “if i ever lose you? i think i might die” — because the moonflower needs sun to live, and you’re her sun, her lifeline.

you take her face in between your shaky palms. ellie’s lips hold a slight tremor, and then she laughs.

“i’m in love with you”

you don’t have to say it back. you really don’t, because again — actions speak louder than words. your soft lips meet her slightly chapped ones, and ellie hums into the kiss. different than the one before, this one is gentle, dim, the lust hasn’t disappeared— it’s still there, but it has something more to it, not diminishing it, just hovering above. could you guess what it is?

“i love y…” you whisper out, attempting to break the kiss, just if you could simply say this one thing, but ellie knows, she knows. she pulls you by the back of your neck more forcefully now, deepening the kiss. because you couldn’t finish your sentence, you pout— but ellie suckles on your bottom lip and wipes your silly pout away. her hand goes lower, from the back of your head to hold on to your waist, and she squeezes the covered flesh. you moan into the kiss, tasting her spit and her tongue, and oh god— the bees. you think you might have just another precious gift for her. one she’s been waiting for, one she’s been fantasising about, one that you’ve been fantasising about. when you moan into the kiss, ellie breaks it. she’s staring you down, panting again. “think i… have… one more gift” you whisper, and ellie— her lips parted, nods once. “one more?” she rasps, squeezing your waist again and pulling you up to straddle her. “mhm”, you hiccup as you feel yourself snugly pressed up against her.

she places one hand on your thigh, simply caressing it back and forth. the more up she goes, the more your breaths become uneven and so do her’s. it’s not entirely an unfamiliar territory— you've been seated on her lap a few times before (seven, but whos counting? she is), but this is… different. “whats your gift, huh?” she teases. you? are you going to be her gift? you always have been…

you whine when she traces small circles with her slender fingers on your clothed inner thighs. you whine and it makes ellie throb— you’ve never quite made that noise before, and she yearns to pull every single noise you could possibly make out of you. a whimper, a moan, god— a scream. she feels like she’s about to explode and christ, you’re still fully clothed.

like a hunter examining it’s prey, ellie moves her face forwards, and then downwards, towards your neck. she places a few chaste kisses, “ah! tickles…” ellie chuckles darkly, yearning to “tickle” you once more. she plants two more delicate, tickling kisses before suckling on the flesh. at first, her tongue meets your skin and she laps up at it. then, her teeth bite into it, and you nearly jump. “sorry… that hurt?” she asks, and really, she’s not sorry at all. “feels…” ellie cuts you off and sucks again. this time, she’s determined to leave a mark. “oh… feels…” you continue, shuddering in her arms like glass. she hasn’t even touched you, not really, and yet everything feels damp. your face, from your tears and from her tears and from spit, to the flesh of your neck that’s being sucked on and played with, down to the small wet patch inside your panties that you’d be mortified if she noticed.

when she finishes the assault on your neck, she moves up to your lips again and grunts when she sees how your lips were already parted, just for her. the kiss is slow, wet, her tongue kitten licking your own. it’s nasty, really, wet smacking and sucking noises filling the air. almost involuntarily, your hips start moving and grinding up against her thigh. ellie moans deeply. “mmph… yeah?” she teases, or at least tries to, because her voice is shaky and turned on to the max. she helps you move slightly, and my god she needs to take your pants off and feel your naked heat against her like this. when she thinks about what it must be like for you— she imagines your fat pussy lips squished up inside your panties, grinding on her thigh and she nearly loses it. she wants to help you grind harder… could she make you cum just from that? cum inside your pants whilst using her thigh? “fuuuck”, ellie groans and lifts her hand up, nearly smacking your ass but it ends up just landing on her own leg.

“s’not fair… what you’re doing…” she murmurs in your ear, “what did… what did i do?” you respond back, your voice high and needy. ellie doesn’t even know what she meant to say. all she knows is that it’s not fair. it’s not fair how you make her react and feel like this, the way your eyes glisten isn’t fair, the way you grind up on her thigh and make those sounds isn’t fair, the way you make her feel sticky and mushy and wet — without even taking your clothes off, isn’t fair.

still moving with fervour on top of her legs, her hand is dangerously close to where you need her the most. she nearly cups it, flips you over and ravishes you whole, but she stops herself. “can i please… take your fuckin’…” she rasps, running her short fingernails on your sides. she’s not scratching, but it’s not an entirely gentle movement either. she doesn’t know where to start, should she ask you to take your top off? your pants? — maybe she should just ask you to go completely naked. she settles on the little top, however.

you lift the fabric up slowly, but you do it out of nerves. as much as ellie wants it off, she lets you take it slow. you peel it off, exposing your skin inch by inch— do you even know how bad you’re teasing her right now? “ah, fuck” ellie groans out. when the shirt meets the top of your head, it gets stuck there for a second. you giggle nervously, your lacey bra on full display, and ellie considers just leaving you there to struggle by yourself. if your eyes are covered by the material, maybe you won’t notice how hard she’s staring. “need some help there, babe?” she teases as she leans back on her elbows. your laugh is muffled, and ellie chuckles. how are you so goddamn sexy and adorable at the same time? after ten whole seconds of struggling, ellie lifts it up for you. “there, good girl… wasn’t that hard, right? just needed my help?” she teases, and god is she mean— that little twinkle in her now much darker green eyes making you feel like your ears are about to melt off.

swiftly, ellie begins planting soft kisses all over your collarbones. her hand isn’t touching your breasts quite yet, but it’s hovering on top of them, and then you realize— she’s waiting for your approval, for your yes. you put your hands around her neck and push her forward, which makes her hands land on top of your breasts. ellie moans as soon as she feels them, and even though they’re covered by fabric — the lace is thin and she can feel your hardening nipples. she runs her thumb over the swollen buds and you shiver. “knew you’d be sensitive…” she murmurs to herself against your skin. “what did… uh, what did you say?”, you stutter, and then she looks up at you. “said…” she flicks it and you buck your hips. “fuck… knew you’d be sensitive”

she knew… you’d be? “you’ve, uh… thought about this before?” — and ellie chuckles, fully laughs nearly. if you only knew how many times she’s thought about this you’d probably crumble like a danish biscuit. “too many times” ellie confesses, and she almost gets too embarrassed to admit, but she swears she can feel a little wet patch on her jeans so she knows you must have thought about this as well, perhaps more than she has — but not likely. “i have too” you murmur shyly, and there it is.

“oh, really?” she asks, kissing right in between of your tits and making you jolt. if her lips feel this good on your chest… your eyes roll back to the top of your head. “so you’re just as filthy, huh?”, her right hand lands on your ass with the smallest smack, she knows she could make it hurt if she wanted to (and she does), but not yet. you jump and squeal, and in a random burst of confidence — “m’filthier…” you whisper.

with that, ellie grunts and takes your tits in her palms, she kneads the swollen flesh, pushing both of your breasts together and kisses right between the formed cleavage. “bet you’re filthier…” she whispers, opens her mouth so her tongue can stick out and lick between your cleavage line. when she does so, she brings her hand to your back and unclasps your bra with just her two fingers. she lets it cascade down, and she notices how shy you get, trying to bring your hands to cover yourself up. ellie is faster than you, and grabs both of your wrists so you can’t. you’re fully exposed, and ellie’s all pants and heavy breaths. when you try to wiggle yourself out of her grip, your tits move and bounce in the slightest, and ellie’s in trance. “you’re so… fuckin’ pretty” she takes your hard nipple in her mouth and you wince as soon as you feel her pink muscles wetness. “that feel good huh?” she takes your other breast in her hand and toys with it, palms it and making it shake.

with hungry kisses, she lays you down on her bed. you buck your hips forward, and ellie parts your legs with her own. she runs her hands all over your body, and before kissing you again, she stops. “els?” you ask, but ellie ignores you. ellie takes her top off, and fuck you’re nearly drooling. she wasn’t even wearing a bra, and her pretty pink nipples are just as hard as yours. you’re staring, and it’s ellie’s turn to go shy. “you like… ‘em?” she giggles, “shit, nevermind”

you don’t expect it, but ellie grabs the brown paper bag and pulls the moonflower bouquet out of it. “wh… what are you doing?”

“don’t worry about it” — she places the flowers on your chest. for some reason, your ears start to burn. “hold ‘em like that for me?” she asks, and you do. with ellie straddling you, it almost looks like she’s about to pull out a camera and take a picture. “perfect…” she murmurs, “feels like i marked you. s’over for you, you’re mine, y’know that?”

you think you’ve always known. “yours” you whisper coyly, giving her that toothy grin that makes her melt into a puddle. she leans forward, kissing the tip of your nose. “yours who?” she kisses your cheek, and then below it, and then on your jaw. “yours… ellie” — and she must be smiling, because you can feel her lips curl up on your skin.

she kisses you everywhere, on every scar, every blemish, sometimes she bites, but then soothes it with her tongue. you’re growing impatient, the pressure down your panties becoming insufferable. before she unbuttons your pants, she unbuttons her’s. she pulls them down, to sit right below her boxers covered ass. she comes up again, kissing on your tummy, and then — she puts her ear to it. “m’hearing them…” she murmurs. “they're… talking to me, the bees are begging me to fuc—“

“ellie!” you call out, embarrassed. you try and muffle your giggles with your hand but it’s all for nothing, because when she pulls your pants down you gasp. she takes a moment to stare, she could just stare at you forever, she thinks. ellie toys with the waistband of your panties, running her pointer finger on the line. she’s breathing heavy, and you’re nearly wheezing. she bends down to kiss your sopping covered cunt, “oh fu— wait!” you call out.

“i’m… i feel, i’m too shy i can’t…”, ellie smiles and kisses it again. she knows you are. “feels like i might—“ you cry out, feels like you might what?

“explode!”

“you might… but i got you, yeah?” ellie coos, and this time, she doesn’t kiss it, she runs her tongue along the wet patch. she wiggles it from side to side and fuck, she can taste you already and she thinks she might be addicted. your thighs tense and they involuntarily wrap around ellie’s head. she chuckles, and parts them apart. to soothe you, she runs her fingers on your inner thighs and caresses you gently. she kisses your clothed clit and she swears she just felt it pump. “awh… yeah?” she coos again, and it feel like she’s talking to your pussy and not to you. you whimper and drop your head back, and she sucks on it. she’s making the fabric grow nearly sheer with her tongue, and when she sees the outline of your pussy lips she moans deeply. “so wet…” she murmurs to herself, “this all for me, huh? did i do something?” she looks up at you, and your eyes are tightly shut, not even in a place where you feel like you can talk.

you’re fuzzy everywhere.

��can you answer me?” she warns, but chuckles when she sees your back arching as soon as she pulls your soaking wet panties to the side. you hum, “all f— for you”, but ellie doesn’t even hear it, because she’s faced with the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen.

your glistening folds, the tiny swollen button on top, and your hole practically clenching in and out over nothing and she thinks she might just die. she spits on it with a small “ptu”, watches as her warm saliva cascades down from your clit to your inviting hole. when you clench, your hole absorbs some of her spit and she groans deeply. “fuck that’s cute”

you’re panting, a sweet harmony of “please, ellie!” escaping your lips, and when you accidentally muttered a pathetic, squeaky “puhleaseee!” ellie scratched the idea of slowly, butterfly kissing your cunt till you’re begging and began placing an open mouthed kiss on it.

as her tongue meets your clit for the first time, you clutch your thighs around her head. it happens twice before she forces them open, “quit that, gotta see you” — she warns, and you listen because you just do. “look at me” she instructs, her voice muffled by your sweet pussy in her mouth. her tongue laps up the wetness from your hole, brings it to the top of your clit and sucks. ellie hums, she was right — you really are fuckin’ sweet. “so good…” she murmurs, “doin’ such a good job”, truly, you aren’t even doing anything, just squirming and whimpering under her touch. she moves her tongue around and you swear you just felt her spell something with it, “ellie!” you cry, and ellie’s breath hitches down her throat so she comes out for air and spits on your cunt again. she rubs the wetness with her fingers, then separates your pussy lips with her thumbs so she can see all of you.

you’re just like a flower, she thinks. slowly, she places her tongue on your clit again, but with her fingers on it still, she begins toying with your tight hole. she merely teases it, probing your entrance with her ring finger. “gonna put it inside, that okay?” she asks, but you’re unresponsive, a blabbering mess who doesn’t even remember her own name. ellie chuckles, she could probably do anything she wanted. she slips it inside, feeling your gummy walls squeezing her in, and she moans right when you do. “oh… gosh, ellie!”

“so fuckin’ tight” she whispers, returning her mouth on your clit and suckles deeply. she adds a second finger and now you’re gone, fully consumed by this filthy, pleasure filled monster. “i think m’gonna!” you cry and ellie whimpers out, nearly going cross eyed when she notices you’re toying with your nipples just like she did. “explode?” she breathlessly says. “c… cum!”

“good fuckin’…” she wants to complete that sentence, but instead her tongue dips lower and her hands push your thighs so your knees are pushed up against your chest. it goes even lower, licking your tightest entrance, the one that’s never been explored, not even by your own hands, and when she flicks her tongue upon it and then immediately goes back to your swollen clit you’re—

“cum’… m’cumming! m’cumming!” and yeah you are, ellie thinks, and slaps one of your thighs. you're jolting when you do, her name leaving your mouth like a prayer, and pray as much as you want but heaven will not be the one that accepts you, perhaps it’ll be purgatory, but with her in it it’s more than perfect. “uh huh… cum for me”

when you do, you see stars, and ellie sees moonflowers.

she laps up your saccharine juices, sucking them off her fingers one by one. you’re feeling faint, buzzing everywhere, from the tips of your toes to the top of your head. ellie looks up at you, eyelids half shut. when you see the index finger that was deep inside of you just a moment ago, go inside her mouth, her pouty pink lips around them and she’s lapping it up and she’s greedy— you cringe a little. she’s tasting and tasting and humming, “told you… you’re sweet”

[ghostbsuter]

It's not that Danny didn't try to stop them.

It's more like they really don't want to leave him alone.

Clingy they are.

It's been a day since he's been adopted by the famous Brucie Wayne. He'd tried everything to creep the man out, but?? Who knew that those aspects would make him try to speed up the process?

It's only a day, and Ember already urges him to follow Shadow, who's been leading him on a wild goose chase around the Manor.

He can hear the barely there snicker from Johnny, Kitty's muffled giggle and Embers persisting tugs.

Danny curses once he's sure the butler wouldn't hear him, giving up and following the cat.

It leads him to an office room? Shadow disappears behind the bookshelf and Danny follows behind.

He did not expect an elevator, nor how far down it goes.

Nor the giant BATCAVE UNDERNEATH WAYNE MANOR.

"That's makes explaining so much easier now."

This also explains the eerily quiet during nighttime, so he takes the chair in front of the batcomputer and sits.

Laughing when johnny falls from the T-Rex statue, overall having a good time with the trio. Hell, he nearly missed the family coming back from how hard he's laughing.

When Batman's looming form overshadows any view on his friends, Danny sobers up quickly, giving a nervous smile.

"Heyyyy, so what if i kinda found this super sketchy place, hypothetical."

"Then, hypothetically of course, you would be given an explanation and choice." Batman's stoic stance and firm voice change, from sagged shoulders and tired sigh.

Hey, that's definitely a step up from vlad.

Ember is wiggling her two fingers behind Batman's head, he stifles his giggles and nearly topples over at Kitty making swooning noises at Barbara Gordon, who is watching from the screen.

He's so screwed.

[millenianthemums]

a while back i posted this drawing of a hypothetical superpowered form for Mabel. well, around the same time i drew these little comics of how that ties in with the Friendship AU, and today i finally went back to color the last part, so i felt like sharing this!

basically it’s like, Bill doesn’t have his reality warping powers in real life anymore, but lucid dreaming works pretty much exactly the same way. so he and Mabel start using that spell from Dreamscaperers to hang out in the mindscape together. that three-eyed magical form is basically a sona Mabel designed because Bill pointed out she could change her appearance in the mindscape if she wanted, and she wanted to look cool, but a giant rainbow dragon-kitten was too big a departure to start out with.

Mabel’s not as good at bending the “reality” of the mindscape to her will as Bill is; he’s spent eons doing it, and there’s a lot of things about it that are a lot harder than you’d think. if you don’t do it right, things won’t work the way you wanted, unwanted subconscious elements can crop up, and the dream scenario can fall apart or even turn dangerous. so Bill starts teaching Mabel his methods, mostly just to brag and feel superior. but it turns out she’s REALLY good at this stuff. she picks it up SUPER fast, way faster than Bill did. her vivid imagination and boundless willpower let her create whole worlds from nothing but a thought.

Bill never wanted to have a kid. he resented the idea of “passing the torch”, or “hiring your replacement” as he calls it. but before all this, he’d never watched somebody he’d been teaching and guiding just absolutely shine as they use the skills he taught them, as a universe of possibilities shines before them. he never thought he’d get to see all existence through new eyes again.

it just hits different, is all.

[king-sil44]

I’m tweaking out a little. I went with friends to see the Sonic 3 movie on release day. Was really good ofc. Went to see it a second time the other day with my best friend. Sorta fixating on movie Sonic content. Might even watch the Knuckles show (y’know despite the unnecessary amount of Wade I’ve been hearing about) because he’s my favorite version of Knuckles in the Sonic franchise.

But that’s not what I’m here to yap about.

What I wanna know is why aren’t more people hopping on the Knuxadow ship train? Like???

I’m usually not a big shipper of Knuckles and Shadow, more of Sonadow girlie. But in the movie universe?? Please people imma need y’all to start dropping fanart and fanfics of them before I start having to make it myself.

LIKE THINK ABOUT IT.

(Spoiler Warnings btw)

- Both watch the same soap opera, La Ultima Passion I think it’s called (Knuckles is watching it in an episode of the Knuckles series I think and Shads is getting into it in the movie while hangin with Stone in the Crab). I could totally imagine them watching it together and arguing over the plot lines.

- Both ride motorcycles.

- You can’t tell me Knuckles ain’t the type to fall head over heels for someone who can EASILY kick his ass. “What a woman😳” type vibes but it’s after Shadow rocks his shit.

- IMAGINE Sonic and Tails. Cuz Knuckles is their big brother. Can y’all just imagine them lowkey bullying him? The whole immature nine miles? Making barfing noises if they catch Knuckles and Shadow flirting (in their own way), making very obnoxious kissing noises when Knuckles is gushing about how powerful and strong of a warrior Shadow is. THEY WOULD.

- Also Shadow, not being experienced with romance feelings or a crush, would have no IDEA what he’s feeling. I think his “OH” moment would be while watching other people interact. Be it in a movie/show, seeing Sonic and Amy interact, or Tom and Maddie. A whole “So this is love?” vibe.

- Someone theorized that in the hypothetical Knuckles & Shadow series that Keanu and Edris had talked about, they would be working together to locate all the Chaos Emeralds after they got lost at the end of the movie. CUE TWO SUPER POWERED ALIEN DUDES GOING ON A ROAD TRIP TOGETHER. And I think THAT is when they would become friends and start to form feelings for each other. Chat does this count as forced proximity?

- And we mustn’t forget Tom and Maddie. Tom doing the typical “I don’t want this dude dating my kid” routine (in his case tho it’s fair. Shadow did try to destroy earth and almost killed him) and Maddie would be supportive and I KNOW she would pull out the “leave the door open” line. Iykyk hehehehehe. They would both be really supportive of Knuckles having a crush and I feel like Shadow would try his best to be kind to them for Knuckles. He would be awkward.

- It’s also worth noting that if the whole Black Arms thing does happen in the cinematic universe and it ends like in the Shadow game with Shadow basically killing all of them, Knuckles and Shadow would BOTH be living the “I’m the last of my kind” lives. Not to mention both of their species have MESSY histories. Like we know the Echidnas were not perfect, otherwise they wouldn’t have been at war for so long. And we KNOW that the Dark Arms are all lunatics. Boyfriends can bond over their family drama.

THATS ALL. For now. 👹

And I know we probably gonna get Rouge in the franchise at some point and Knuxouge will be canon I’m sure but like… can a dude dream? And ask for more people to share this dream?

HEAR ME OUT PEOPLE-

PLEASE HEAR ME OUT!!

[bloodmoonmuses]

translation: i love you. | mark lee

genre: mark lee x reader, college au (not that important for the context tbh), friends to lovers, fluff, drabble (900 words)

summary: your friends referred to you as the mark lee interpreter. you weren't sure why, but you understood him- even the words he didn't say.

warnings: none!

To many, you were known as the Mark Lee Interpreter. Such was usually said in jest, but you couldn’t help the pride that swelled in your chest when the moniker was bestowed upon you. Sure, the guy rambles a bit, but if you listen- really listen- he has quite a beautiful outlook on the world. 

You and Mark usually conversed in motion. You’ve divulged your deepest secrets to him while on aimless walks. You’ve cracked your wisest jokes to one another while biking. You’ve had entire conversations through your eyes while dancing in grimy bars.

Now was no different, though a more chill variation. It’s Spring, so the two of you are taking a stroll in between classes. The sun knocks the chill off an otherwise too-chilly day, its rays falling on your face like a smattering of kisses. Spring isn’t in its picturesque stage quite yet. The stasis of winter still lingers, trees barren and skies grayish amidst the light that peeks through the cloud coverage. It’s calming.

There’s a creek that runs through the center of campus, a little bridge arching over the widest part. This is where you stood now, watching the water trickle over stones. 

“I think about rocks a lot,” Mark says out of nowhere. (Translation: Nature is so beautiful- even the most mundane and minute aspects of it. Even the parts that people forget. I think about forgotten things a lot, like rocks.) You believe it. Mark thinks a lot about a lot of things.

“They’re, like, soooo varied. Y’know?”

You do know. Large rocks. Mountainous rocks. Boulders. Stones. Pebbles. There are many types of rocks. “The ones in the creek look super smooth. It’s… hypnotizing.” Mark speaks as though he’s constantly in amazement, or on the brink of an epiphany. He’s the embodiment of potential, of the hypothetical, of what could be. You think a lot about what you and Mark could be. 

Of the many possibilities, you conclude that as long as some form of togetherness is involved, you’d be anything for him.

“I think about water a lot,” you respond. 

“What’s your favorite kind of water?” (Translation: Indulge me. How intently do you think about the minutiae of the world? Are you as crazy about water as I am about rocks?)

“Hm,” you say. “Good question. No one’s ever asked me that.” You assume he’s asking you to identify a particular body of water as your favorite. A memory comes to mind. 

It was the summer after freshman year. You and Mark went to the beach everyday together.  You think of the chilly water that rolled over your toes in the waking moments of dawn. You think of how beautiful the sunrise looked reflected on the ocean. You think of Mark waking up with you, despite not being a morning person. That wasn’t your favorite type of water, no. You specifically liked the sea water that danced on the ends of Mark’s hair. The drops that traveled down the follicle, forming shimmering beads, and dripped onto the sand below. You made a game of watching and counting them that summer. (The highest you got was 47.) 

You’re not sure how to consolidate this memory into a sentence that doesn’t sound absolutely insane. You decide to omit the thought entirely. A conversation for a different day, you suppose. 

“The ocean. Cliche, I know,” you say. Mark nods to himself, then hums.

The creek beneath you harmonizes with Mark’s humming. He begins walking again, taking your hand in his. This wasn’t too out of the ordinary for your friendship, but it makes your heart do this twisty thing you can’t quite place. It was the one action of his you couldn’t interpret. Mark doesn’t make a big deal about it, nor does he discuss the matter afterwards. It was almost like he was entitled to your hand, clasping his calloused fingers around yours without a second thought.

You’ve never actually looked at your intertwined hands before. The first time he grabbed it (during one of those days on the beach), Mark acted so nonchalant. You figured the gesture didn’t mean much to him. You were scared that, if provided with a visual, you’d never stop thinking about his stupid hands. 

This time, you allow yourself a peek. The cuff of Mark’s jacket hangs over his fingers, and he squeezes your hand when he realizes you’re looking. (Translation: You’re finally acknowledging this. Are you here? Can you feel me?) 

Your hand is getting sweaty. You pull away to wipe it on your jeans.

Mark can’t believe you’re nervous right now. You’re never nervous around him. The two of you have become accustomed to the wordless ease of your relationship.

Mark’s eyeing you again. You pretend you can’t see him in your peripheral vision. It doesn’t work. “Nervous?”

“Not even a little bit,” you say defiantly. You snatch his hand back into yours as if to prove your point. However, this only does the opposite as you begin to literally tremble.

“You’re so funny,” says Mark, running his thumb over the back of your hand. He slowly lifts your hand to his mouth, but he doesn’t kiss it. He simply presses your knuckles to his lips, maintaining eye contact while he does so. Your breath hitches.

“Mark-” is all you manage to say. You can’t meet his eyes, so you look at your conjoined hands as they swing between the two of you. Elation radiates off Mark’s skin. He’s grinning from ear to ear.

“Your hand is so warm,” Mark says. (Translation: I love you.) 

a/n: feedback is always appreciated! thanks for reading!

[itsabouttimex2]

I hope this isn't an odd question

But, do you think Wukong or Macaque would act or treat different their "cub" if they genders were swapped or being a female version? This is also for a Yan behavior

I don't know too much about how is the raising of a monkey from the father and mother so I was curious with this since they're both mystical demons

I was thinking about this when I saw some fanarts from the artist @/car_nimbus on Twitter, they made a neat versions of the characters with another gender

Monkey Mama

(Hmm okay let me build a hypothetical OG “Female Monkey King” to work off of here and then I’ll try to translate that into LMK’s SWK. Also, I’ll probably make a second variation of this afterwards with other characters, haha. This got a little long to do both SWK and Mac!)

Sun Wukong as a character is already heavily defined by rebellion and personal choice, so I think that making him a girl only really compounds that layer of his character.

In many older narratives, female characters are often expected to be more obedient or modest than men, and very frequently only exist as prizes or, more rarely, villains. A female Sun Wukong; assuming she plays the same role as her original incarnation, defies the expectations of how “traditional” women should behave, shirking the demure and passive “ideal” and adding another layer of rebellion to her character.

(JTTW is actually pretty great in terms of female representation, with characters ranging from the perpetually good Quanyin, the eventually repentant Princess Iron Fan, and the straight up evil White Bone Spirit. I’m a big fan of how the women aren’t slid into any one “role” throughout the story.)

I think: in story, she’d likely be viewed as a sort of “anomaly”—a woman too strong, too outspoken, and too unwilling to conform to typical feminine ideals. Her defiance and arrogance might be viewed as even more scandalous by the Celestial Realm.

Instead of being made a “stable-keeper”, I think probably she’s sent to whatever Heavenly Scullery exists in that divine realm, and put to work very quickly. She would treat this “job” with indifference or even amusement at first-after all, physical labor or menial tasks don't diminish her self-worth or confidence! She’s had a life of hard work, leading an army of Yaoguai, cultivating Flower Fruit Mountain,

So she’s fine with this… at first. Then it turns out that the food she makes with her fellow low-class workers isn’t distributed amongst the people making it, but plated up nice and pretty for a bunch of “stuffy old gods” who didn’t lift a finger! Bullshit!

So obviously, the prideful Monkey Queen goes on a destructive rampage in regards to the unfair disparity of treatment, then storms back down to Earth to throw a “feel-better” party with her fellow Yaogaui.

(Which isn’t just a party, but a symbolic reclaiming of joy and community, with her monkey tribe representing the freedom she craves and the earthly bonds she prefers over heavenly authority. It's not just an escape, but a statement of independence.)

After an extensive set of repairs, the Court sends down someone to drag her back, because, you know, the local super-powered monkey is back on the loose, and that’s not exactly great for them. This time, they offer her a “better” role- she gets to become an official Peach Maiden, lucky her!

Of course, it’s just another form of entrapment, but within a prettier cage. Even though she's given a cushier position, it's a veneer- she's still being silenced, controlled, and stripped of her freedom. The role played by a Peach Maiden is an inversion of Wukong's essence, as these women are happily serving the role of passive caretakers, nurturing with gentle smiles—a direct contrast to the free-willed, brash nature of the Monkey Queen.

(And while there’s nothing wrong with being demure, passive, and feminine, having people try to force her into that role is where Sun Wukong draws her line.)

Here, she is expected to watch in silence as others revel in the freedom and power denied to her. It's a different kind of prison, one that quietly erodes her spirit. When the Celestial Court tries to reintegrate her as a Peach Maiden, they are once again attempting to place her into a docile, decorative role, one that strips away her power and independence. Those immortal peach orchards, a symbol of immortality and divine favor, becomes a prison for her.

Surrounded by "ideal" women who embody the quiet, submissive role she despises, the Monkey Queen finds herself chafing under the pressure of conformity. Her energy, once boundless and chaotic, is now caged, and the simmering resentment builds.

The buildup to her inevitable rebellion after being made a Peach Maiden, then, becomes a very sympathetic moment because it's not just a rejection of the role forced on her, but a rejection of the very system that tries to diminish who she is at her core. Her rebellion isn’t about anger and shame- it’s about reclaiming her true self after having been suffocated by the expectations of the Celestial Court. Her rampage becomes an assertion of her identity as something that can't be confined by heavenly rules or social mores.

The Court, in its attempt to “contain" her, only fuels her defiance further, leading her once again to rebel.

It was never going to end well. But it ends all the same, and punishment is to be levied to the Queen, just the same as any other rebellious rule-breaker... actually, probably harsher.

There’s “you broke our rules and tried to lead a coup”, then there’s “you did all that, and we also find your very person to be wrong on a fundamental level”, and then she gets the book thrown at her twice over.

But! Then she meets Tang Sanzang, who sees something in her that neither the Celestial Realm nor her own band of Sworn Brothers saw. Not a heretic simian savaging a holy realm. Not a Queen to rally behind for their own gain.

But a lost soul in need of guidance.

And from there the Great Monk works on building Sun Wukong up as a person instead of leading her astray or trying to cut massive chunks of her personality out? And talks to her about the things she cares about? And teaches her about all the things she missed after spending five hundred years under a rock?

And then she meets Zhu Baije, who starts out a little too happy and carefree about having a beautiful woman around, but eventually comes to smash open heads when Wukong is disrespected, because that’s not just a hot woman, that’s his sister?

Or Sha Wujing, who helps her with even the smallest things, from trimming her claws to cutting her wild hair to preparing meals for the monk? And lets her perch on his shoulders and head so the queen can get some skinship in?

Then Ao Lie, who is every bit the “disappointment to the world at large” that she was considered? And they take turns braiding each other’s hair and wiping the mess from the other’s face, and sleeping in the same tent and same bedroom because it’s less effort?

She gets a dad and three little brothers?

She gets a family.

And then loses it and is alone again for several hundred years more.

So if we go with this theoretical “My natural existence has been rejected for being seen as ‘improper’ by a court of stuffy traditional assholes” and then “I dearly love/miss my dead found family” angle, I think she’d be portrayed as a very different sort of character in LMK.

She’s quicker to lash out and defend herself, and much less willing to sit around and let the world pass her by- because that’s what was demanded of her by the Celestial Realm.

Be good. Be quiet. Be demure. Be obedient. Be anything except you.

I don’t think she’d be as willing to “rest on her laurels” as her canon counterpart, given that a “quiet boring life” was what she had fought so very hard to escape in the first place, so instead of isolating herself from the world in the first place, she probably sets up a little “souvenir shop” at the foot of Flower Fruit Mountain, taking a human form to sell little knick-knacks that herald to the journey she undertook with her old friends.

In part, this is how Wukong works to honor them. To spread their legacy. To ensure that they aren’t forgotten, left as a footnote in the annals of history. To remember them.

In part, it’s how she justifies all the mistakes she’s made and the suffering she’s been through. Settling in to a pointlessly relaxed life is exactly what she fought against, after all. She’s heavily fallen into the “sunk-cost fallacy”, where giving up and settling in, to her, means “losing”. It means “everything I went through was all for nothing”. So she keeps at this little store instead of just retiring and isolating herself from the world, even though she’d be happier to ditch it and lounge about.

So when MK and his eccentric bunch of friends comes around with their boundless energy and mischief, she immediately goes, “Oh, okay! This is what I wanted!”

(It’s not. All she’s ever wanted is her friends back. How could there be anything else?)

The Monkie Kids are vibrant, eccentric, and full of qualities that immediately resonate with Wukong. They remind her of the energy, camaraderie, and sense of adventure that she once shared with her old companions. She sees MK's arrival not just as a chance to teach someone a few of her old tricks, but as an echo of her own life—a life she hasn't been able to truly let go of.

So she starts projecting- on the surface, MK is very much like her. He's spirited, good-natured, and curious- and reckless. Just like she was. Wukong latches onto this quickly, sort of using the kid as a proxy for herself. After all, if she can't go back to her old life, why not embrace a new one that feels close enough? In some ways, this marks her refusal to accept the passage of time, a desperate clinging to the hope that, through MK, she can rekindle the connections she once cherished.

However, underneath that initial enthusiasm is the repressed understanding that MK, despite his similarities to her younger self, cannot truly replace what she lost. The friends she fought beside, the battles they waged together, and the lessons they learned are unique, irreplaceable moments in her life. No matter how much MK’s gang reminds her of the past, he and his friends a stand-in for the companions she still longs for. But her deep desire to reconnect with her old friends clouds her ability to see MK for who he truly is: his own person, on his own journey.

It takes her a while to get to that point, though. So she’s more doting and affectionate, in a way that somewhat stifles her student’s training because she wants to be both her old carefree self and also a good mentor, and the two just get jumbled.

Sidenote: I think with the difference in actions and behavior, MK would be more open to viewing Fem!Wukong as a parental figure than the OG, especially since he doesn’t really have someone to fulfill that “mom” role.

For their dynamic, I think something like this would be the outcome:

———————————————————————-

The afternoon sun hangs low in the sky, painting the landscape in hues of varied orange and blue. With a tired hand, MK wipes the sweat from his brow.

He’s perched on one of the rocky spires dotting Flower Fruit Mountain, gazing at the view with a small smile of accomplishment. Training had been intense lately… if only because he had been doubling down on the time he spent practicing, without giving as much care to rest or aftercare.

After all, even though his powers were blooming steadily… his enemies also were growing in power and quantity, leading to the ever-creeping edge of fear that anything less than a constant one-hundred percent just wouldn’t be “enough”.

And right as he reaches back to grab the golden staff he has inherited from the Monkey Queen-

“MK! I told you to take a break, not run off to do more training!”

Her voice, uncharacteristically sharp, cuts through the formerly tranquil air, causing MK to jump. He turns just in time to see Sun Wukong strolling toward him, her hands on her hips and a look of mock annoyance on her face.

MK grinned sheepishly, shifting his grass-stained boots against the dirt. “I was just, you know… checking out the view.”

She raised an eyebrow, the corner of her mouth twitching in amusement as her eyes narrowed in annoyance. This kid... “Uh-huh. Checking out the view or sneaking in some practice when I wasn’t looking?”

Caught fast in his lie, MK rubbed the back of his neck, face scrunching up in embarrassment. “Maybe a little of both?”

In spite of herself, Sun Wukong quietly laughs, the sound echoing like a chiming bell through the mountain. Her long, golden hair flowed behind her in the wind, each strand catching the light like molten fire. Despite her legendary status- the rebellious warrior who’d fought the heavens and nearly won!- there was a warmth to her that MK had come to cherish.

“All work and no play, MK,” she said, sitting beside him on the rock and ruffling his hair with a fondness that always made him feel like a little kid again. “You’ll burn out before you get anywhere.”

He looked at her, eyes shining with admiration. “But you never stop training. You’ve been at this for centuries! I just…”

A pause, as his chest turns over, unsettled by the notion of opening up. But… it’s the Monkey Queen. So it.. should be okay, right?

“I want to make you proud.”

Sun Wukong’s expression softens, and she wraps an arm around his shoulders, pulling the boy close in a tight embrace. “You already make me proud, kid. You don’t have to prove anything.”

MK leaned into the touch, feeling a wave of comfort wash over him. Even from the start she’d been like this with him- protective, nurturing… and maybe a bit overbearing at times. But he didn’t mind. It made him feel safe, like no matter what challenges lay ahead, he wasn’t alone.

MK chuckled, turning his face up to meet his idol’s eyes.” I’ll keep up,” he triumphantly declares, pumping a fist.” I promise.”

“Good.” Wukong shifted, her clawed hand lightly missing his spiked locks. “Now, how about we head back to the shop and grab something to eat? You’ve earned it.”

MK’s stomach growled at the mention of food, and he nodded so eagerly that she wondered if his head wouldn’t ache from the motion. “You know, I won’t say no to a good meal.”

The Monkey Queen stood up, dusting off her mentee’s clothes before offering him a hand. “Of course you won’t. C’mon, my treat.”

———————————————————————-

Now, to answer your question about how she acts in regards to her own cub… in general I think she’s much more doting than the OG, willing to express herself through constant displays of physical affection, in ways that are far more varied.

Constant forehead smooching, cuddles, grooming sessions, all of it! Mama Wukong never wants to let go of her baby! Sit down and let her paint your nails! Let her comb and braid your hair! Let her make you a nice lunch (loaded with mystical drugs to keep you nice and sleepy for extra cuddles), or at least a filling snack! Let her pepper your face with kisses as she spins you in her powerful arms!

Lots and lots of indulgent fluffy days of binging unhealthy foods and watching cozy reruns of old shows, your head in her lap as she hums and does up your hair with her lazy hands.

Lots of reminiscing about old suitors as she considers the quietest and quickest ways to kill anyone who makes the futile attempt to pursue you in the same way.

Despite her obsessive behavior, Wukong struggles with conflicting feelings about wanting her child to be strong and independent, just like her! She pushes you to train hard and become powerful, but when you inevitably seek their own freedom or autonomy, she’d experience a mix of pride and heartbreak, pushing her deeper into possessive tendencies.

If you ever tried to leave or even just start to break away, Wukong’s worst traits would bubble up like hellfire. Just as she fought against an entire realm’s authority, she would absolutely wage a war to keep her child close, all while justifying her actions as love.

The Monkey Queen is also more willing to take routes outside of brute force if it means securing extra protection for Y/N. If Macaque or maybe Azure (or someone else like Erlang Shen) wants to try and play “suitor”, well, she’s not too interested… until the thought arises that having him around makes you extra safe! And then she’s willing to think on it.

(That’s assuming that you aren’t one of their biological kids to begin with, in which case there might be a sort of “yandere triangle”. Azure/Macaque/Erlang Shen doing his damndest to reclaim his wife, before he learns that she’s had a child while he was gone... or maybe Pigsy and Tang decided that MK needs his mentor in a more ‘accessible’ position, and plot to drag her to Megapolis…)

Lots of potential monkey mama shenanigans, basically!

[inmyheaddd]

walkin’ out the door with your bags - grayson hawthorne x reader - part 3

⤷ “pardon my emotions, i should probably keep it all to myself”

wc: 3k summary: things are as normal as ever between you and grayson, and gigi comes up with a plan… a double date. a/n: sorry i’ve been SO SLOW with these updates 😭 i had to cut this in half because it was getting sooo long (the flashback will make a lot more sense in the next part lmao)

masterlist || series masterlist — other parts!

the past…

you and your class were on a trip to a planetarium of some sort.

you had just turned 9 and entered your astronomy phase - that never ended up fully leaving you - and were absolutely thrilled. you had a permanent smile on your face the whole day. 

it was now a break time, kids could spend their money on whatever they wanted; magnets, souvenirs, in the gift shop, and by far, the most popular choice: ice cream. 

“are you not going to get any?” you asked the boy sitting beside you on the bench, before bringing your plastic spoon to your little cup, and then to your mouth again. 

grayson barely looked at you, “no.”

“why? this ice cream is so good.”

he looked at the rocket keychain he held in his hand. he told you earlier he’d bought it for his youngest brother, xander.

“i’m not hungry.” he said flatly.

“yes you are, i can see it on your face hawthorne!” you pointed a finger at him, “you want ice cream sooooo bad it hurts, but you’re too scared of acting normal.”

“no i don’t,” he said, “and i am not afraid.”

“sure you are,” you said with an overenthusiastic nod, taking another bite of your ice cream.

grayson eyed you, “are you insinuating i’m not normal?”

you giggled, “yeah, because you don’t like ice cream. that, or you pretend to not like it. both are super weird.”

he furrowed his brows at you, absentmindedly twirling the keychain around his fingers. “…what if i simply haven’t had it before?”

your jaw almost dropped. there was no way that was just a hypothetical question. 

“you’ve never had ice cream?” you exclaimed, eyes wide with surprise. when he didn’t respond, you continued. “woah, grayson. that’s actually kind of sad…” as your best friend it’s my duty to get you to try all the best flavors one day— and trust me, there’s a lot.” 

“i’m perfectly fine without ice cream in my life.” he retorted, quite snappily too. “and without cavities. i’ve seen my brothers get a tooth extracted … it does not look pleasant, to say the least.”  

you took another bite of your ice cream, “what’s life without a little risk— or too much sugar?”

he eyed you, “less trips to the dentist.” 

the present…

it had been a few weeks since that hawthorne event, and things were back to normal with you and grayson. no more awkwardness, no more almost confessions, just you and your best friend.

you found yourself outside grayson's house, tapping your foot impatiently after ringing the doorbell twice.

you

— hello — bro — i’m outside  — no one’s opening the door — are you leaving me on seen?? 

you waited a moment, seriously debating whether to go home or not as you glanced  at your phone, watching the bubbles form and disappear.

grumpy blonde 👎

— No.

you

— …is this because i called you bro — sorry — sorry grayson davenport hawthorne***

*grumpy blonde 👎 reacted 👎🏻 to your message* 

how fitting.

grumpy blonde 👎

— Do you not have a key? I had one made for you months ago.

you

— oh — well — i kinda lost it

grumpy blonde 👎

— I’ll have a new one made soon.  — I’ll be down now, apologies for the wait.

you

— aw — it’s ok oren just let me in — i think he feels bad for me LMAO 

when the door finally clicked open, you barely took 3 step before you heard the front door shut close. the coldness of the house immediately hit you. 

why was it always freezing in this place?

grayson came down within 10 seconds of your arrival, and 10 minutes later, you were sitting on his bed as he organized the new suits he had bought earlier that day. 

so that’s why he was taking so long. 

now, you just finished explaining the long winded plan you and gigi had been planning for a week now. 

it sounded his worst nightmare. 

you loved it.

“so… yeah. what do you think?” you asked, a coy smile on your face as grayson turned to look at you.

“you came all the way here to ask me to ask me this?” there it was: the eyebrow arch.

“well, if i called you or asked over text you’d just say no.” you shrugged, “but in person i can just annoy you until you say yes.” 

“i’m not going on a double date.” of course he was going to say that. “nonetheless with gigi and noah.”

you sighed frustratedly, nearly falling back on his bed. “but why? it’s all friendly and platonic, and he’s actually so nice! i’ve even talked to him a little and—“

he quit reorganizing his suits and swiftly turned his head around to look at you. “when have you spoken to him?” 

you laughed nervously at his intense gaze, “chill,” you said, “he just drops gigi off at our door sometimes, or waits outside if she’s about to come out.”

“i do some subtle interrogations of my own for your information, hawthorne,” you continued, your voice a little quieter, more meaningful. “youre not the only one who cares about gigi, you know.” 

the knit in his brows loosened, and his eyes broke away from yours for a second. “you’re right. i apologize.” and just like that, his eyes quickly flickered away again.

his back as turned to you, “i do want gigi to be happy.” he said, knowing how gigi jokingly says otherwise. “however, not everyone has the best intentions. it’s difficult to not be wary.” 

you watched him open a table drawer and pull out his glasses box. he put them on, and then took out his phone. 

after a moment of silence, you continued your persuasion attempts. 

 “i know that, this’ll be your perfect chance to see what’s going on,” you said in a singsong voice towards the end, “and gigi already promised no public displays of affection between them, if you were worried about that.”

he just hummed, clearly not showing any interest in the whole ordeal, not wanting to discuss it any further.

you sighed again, and briefly checked your phone. you realised you would have to leave soon if you wanted enough time to get ready. 

you still sat watching him, though. it looked like he was trying to inspect something closer on his phone - that, or he had really bad eyesight - because he squinted and pulled his glasses down his nose bridge momentarily as he looked at his phone. 

he looked from his phone to you, “what time is this… double date happening?”

you stifled a laugh, “you look like a grandpa.”

he raised a judging brow, but you could see that smile creeping in. “i’ll repeat myself, when is this double date you speak of happening?”

“wait,” you realised what that meant, “you’re coming?!”

“i did not say that.”

you jumped up from the bed, beaming at him as you placed your hands on his arms,  “i knew you’d come to your senses!” 

he tilted his head back but made no attempt to move. and maybe it was your imagination, but it almost looked like he was smiling. 

“it’s at that one restaurant with the name i can’t pronounce and the weird logo, and gigi said to pleasewear something with colour, and that we should be there at 7!”

he sighed, looking like he was about to say something, but then he hesitated for a moment. his frown disappeared, and it seemed whatever complaints had too.

“i’ll be there to pick you up at quarter to.”

you blinked at him, your hands falling back to your sides, “quarter to?”

“6:45.”

“why didn’t you just say that then?” you joked. “quarter to,” you mocked him in a deep voice. “so extra” 

“extra?” he asked with a hint of a laugh.

“you’re extra, grayson hawthorne.”

his expression stayed the same , “it seems like you have new words to call me every week.”

“yeah, ‘cause you’re easy to make fun of.”

grayson accepted that and managed a smile, and also seemingly ignored everything you had just said. 

he changed the subject completely. “your glasses really suit you. have i told you that yet?” 

you willed yourself not to smile as you tilted your head to the side, “are you being sarcastic again?” you brought your hands to touch the frames you had promised to wear, and have gotten so used to them that they’d become second nature.

“i wasn’t ever being sarcastic,” he instantly replied, but his voice was rid of any teasing. 

you felt a few butterflies dance in your stomach, but you wouldn’t let that have any visible affect on you. “i’d believe that if you didn’t have such a good poker face.” 

his smile faltered slightly, “why would i lie to you?” 

butterflies at this point your stomach was turning into a mosh pit at the point, “because you’re my friend and you’re annoying.”

he nodded, that kind of slow nod that said that he wasn’t following what you were saying at all. “fair. good point.” 

“when do i not make good points? ” you asked, half laughing as you took a step back, not giving him any time to respond before you called out. “actually, don’t answer that! and don’t forget to wear some colour!”

—

to your surprise, he actually did wear some colour. and somehow, the colour of his tie complimented your dress perfectly. his suit was a mix of biege and grey, with a stark white button up underneath. 

and true to his word, he was outside your door at exactly 6:45. gigi had left the house much earlier with noah — they were going to some indie concert before the dinner. 

when you and grayson were brought to your table, you shared a surprised glance. noah and gigi were already sitting down, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen two people looking more blissfully happy in eachothers company. they couldn’t take their eyes off one another, so enamored with eachothers company. 

when they noticed you two, noah smiled nervously as his eyes landed on grayson, and gigi nearly jumped in excitement.

—

“are you currently working?” grayson asked noah, before raising his glass to his lips.

you felt so bad for the nervous boy, this had been going on for the past 30 minutes. he was adorable in a puppy sense, he reminded you of a pug, or a golden retriever, maybe, with his curly caramel coloured hair, and big brown eyes hid behind circular frames, that stayed on gigi for the majority of the time.

“yes!” noah’s voice picked up, before he heard his own enthusiasm and cleared his throat. 

“i’m a, uhm, veterinarian.” he spoke more leveled, and grayson didn’t say anything, so noah filled the silence between the table.

“my parents own multiple law firms around texas and some other states, but… it was never what i really liked.” he said with an almost wistful tone in his voice, “my siblings are all lawyers, but i prefer dealing with animal problems than people problems.” he added, chuckling nervously.

“yeah! he’s the cutest with cats, you should see it!” gigis voice was full of enthusiasm as her hand lightly grabbed noah’s upper arm, “but he’s actually a dog person, which is totally okay, actually! opposites attract!” 

they looked at each other and shared a small laugh, while you thought: 

opposites? 

they were practically written in the same font, gigis was just in bold, with a little cat emoji beside the text. they worked so well, gigi once told you half asleep at 3 am; “you know, i think i’ve missed him in my life before i even knew him. does that make sense?” 

quickly being brought back to the present, you smiled warmly at gigi, and soon enough conversation flowed between all four of you. 

it wasn’t long before you lost all track of the conversation as you zoned out on what noah was doing to his plate.

he was pecking at his food, seemingly separating the chicken from his alfredo on one half of his plate, and the pasta on the other half. 

this was going on for a full 2 minutes.

grayson turned to look at you as he noticed your unusual silence, and his eyes followed your focused gaze. 

he gave noah a very stern questioning look, and noah looked confused as his eyes flicked between you two, wondering why you looked so confused. 

“what?” he asked nervously, almost hesitant before looking down at his plate. “oh,” he realised your confusion, “i um—“

gigi seemed to have picked up on what was going on, “—he’s separating the chicken from his pasta for me because he doesn’t like it, and because i’m obsessed with it! isn’t that right noah?”

a sheepish smile grew on his face, before looking at gigi with so much love in his eyes, it made your heart warm and leap for your best friend. “yeah,” he said, “that’s right.” 

grayson hummed bedside you, “oh, of course.” he offered them a small smile out of politeness— an unusual act for him, but you assumed it was for rare occasions like these when he saw the sheer happiness beam off gigi’s face.

he must’ve sensed it too; they were an odd couple, but they worked perfectly. 

as if on cue, gigi reached over with her fork, abandoning all the cutlery rules she had been taught as a child, poked the chicken with the utensil and waved it just infront of  to her mouth, “om nom nom,” she giggled as she looked at the curly headed boy beside her, non stop quiet laughter from the both of them as she put her fork down, not even taking the bite she intended.

you and grayson shared another glance, chuckling, but wondering what was so funny that they were still laughing— nothing objectively funny had even happened, she had just said one thing. 

but you quickly realised that was one of the things that just wasn’t for you to get. 

that was probably how people thought of you and gigi, you thought. 

like when you’d be shaking with laughter with tears in your eyes over the stupidest things, and when someone would ask what’s so funny, they’d look at you strangely once you attempted to explain. 

it was just for you two to get. and now, she had someone else to have that with.  

you couldn’t have been more happy for that girl. she deserved it, more than anyone.

you were now thinking selfishly— wondering when you could experience that with someone you loved. even though you did have someone you loved so dearly: gigi, it was just like romance was just not in your playing field. 

everyone you had talked to always expected something from you, or expected you to be someone you weren’t. that, or they just didn’t care. 

you took your eyes to your hands, habitually fiddling with your fingers under the table to stop your thoughts from going any further. 

it wasn’t the time to be acting like this. you looked up and your eyes found their way to grayson, who’s head turned just as his eyes caught yours for a split second.

he looked at his plate, gigi and noah’s laughter died down now, and grayson was already asking him another question about his life. 

suddenly, you felt gigi’s leg nudge yours under the table, one of her ways of silently asking you if you were okay. 

you nodded at her to let her know you were fine. and in response, she attempted to raise a interrogative brow — she told you she’d been trying to learn how to do grayson’s eyebrow raise — and then narrowed her eyes to comically thin slits. 

“i’m okay,” you mouthed at her, but she gave you a look that said “we’re talking about this later,” before you both returned to the main conversation at the table. 

the rest of the evening was fine, with the dim lighting and soft piano in the background and the quiet chatter from everyone else in the restaurant. you shared funny embarrassing stories

when the bill came, noah immediately reached for his wallet, fingers fumbling a bit as he pulled out his card. across the table, grayson was also pulling out his wallet.

“hey, it’s alright, i can pay” he said, glancing around the table with a nervous smile.

grayson briefly looked as he set his card down on the table. “allow me, it’s no worry.”

noah hesitated, glancing between grayson’s card and his own. “no, really—i want to,” he insisted, voice a little shaky but clearly set on it.

grayson shook his head lightly, "please, i insist.” the words were even and polite but left no room for argument.

“no, seriously, i have no problem paying—“

“and neither do i. please,”

“it’s okay, actually, i’d love to pay.” noah managed, scratching the back of his neck, looking between you, gigi, and then back at grayson.

your eyes flickered between the two like a tennis match. you and gigi exchanged a look, both stifling smiles as noah shifted uncomfortably. then gigi spoke.

"hey, how about i pay?"

both grayson and noah turned to her instantly, in sync, and said a definite, adamant,

"no."

you couldn’t hold back a snort, catching gigi’s eye as she rolled hers, before her face lit up with an idea. 

finally, after an intense game of eenie meenie miney mo —suggested by gigi, noah payed. 

grayson reluctantly put his card back in his wallet, tucking it back in his pocket as noah flashed gigi a nervous smile. 

when they caught eachother’s eyes, grayson offered noah a slight nod, almost of respect. noah returned it with a smile.

you and gigi once again glanced at eachother. in both your eyes, that seemed like a success. 

a/n: this is such a filler chapter but i wanted to properly introduce my new fav, noah, and showcase his bond with gigi 😋 I PINKY SWEAR there’s so much fluff in part 4 you might have to check in with ur local dentist…

part 4

taglist: @x-liv25-jamieswife @wish-i-were-heather @thecircularlibrary @whatsamongus @hermesenthusiast

@littlemissmentallyunstable @anintellectualintellectual @lovethornes @maybxlle @sheisntyou

@emelia07 @midiosaamor @sweetreveriee @charsoamerican @hxress23

@imaseabear @soleilars @clarissaweasley-10 @off-to-the-r4ces @thelov3lybookworm

@lanterns-and-daydreams @graysw1fe

[elexuscal]

Danny Phantom ghost things i'd want in a hypothetical reboot

so like the rest of the fandom, i've had my own ideas for cool ways Danny's ghost powers could operate fermenting for over a decade. not all of these are wholly original-- i'm sure they've been influenced by a bunch of other fanworks over the years. but while it'll (probably) never happen, i'd love to see them depicted in shiny, professional animation

ghosts are ideas, manifested. their appearance and powers are all directly linked to the shape and powers of that idea.

when Danny first turned, his 'ghost form' was barely anything at all. wispy, insubstantial. he was still weak from his [near] death experience, confused and scared, and these moments where he's apparently lose all visibility and corporeality were as confusing as they were terrifying, creating an awful negative feedback loop

Gradually, as Danny came to understand and anticipate these ghostly transformations, his form solidified. by the time the show starts, his ghost form is basically identical to his normal human form, just with the expected palette swap

Danny starts to realise his body is malleable in that form, and experiments a bit. mostly with realising he turn his legs into a wispy tail to go faster, or maybe changing his body for a goof

but there are subtler, gradual changes.

as Danny becomes more confident with his Phantom persona, as it becomes a genuine alter-ego, Phantom's appearance changes.

Phantom's a little taller. A little more muscular. His jaw a little more chiseled. His hair goes from "mundane dishevelment" to "anime protagonist spikiness".

yes, this goes great with transguy!Danny, thanks

these changes are gradual, maybe a single tweak to the character design per episode. enough that by episode 13 or so, if you were to put images of Fenton and Phantom side-by-side, you'd realise they were no longer just palette swaps

unfortunately, there are downsides to this ghostly nature

Danny's ghost form (and sometimes even his human form) is directly linked to his mental state.

if Danny's insecure? Phantom can become weak and insubstantial. Scared? Small and childlike. And if he's angry? Well...

Twisted claws for fingers, teeth contorting into fangs, strange waving tentacles emanating from his body...

Maybe there's a reason people don't recognise Phantom as human. Let alone as that Fenton kid from down the street.

sometimes, though. someone swears they'll see Danny Fenton's eyes flash green in the darkness. just for a moment.

being a ghost isn't just cool super powers. have it be, in a very real way, eldritch.

[comicaurora]

If YouTube shuts down in five years or if the channel stops doing well or if you just burn out or whatever, what’s your backup career? I feel like a lot of “content creators” become super specialized into doing content creation stuff

This question is interesting, because you've given voice to one of the anxieties it took me the longest to overcome.

My thesis on life is you can't live in any sort of healthy manner if you're constantly planning for the worst case scenario - what you would do if everything in your life suddenly changed. Like how you can't live comfortably anywhere if you've constantly planning for the next time you'll move out.

For me, that question takes the form "what if youtube suddenly exploded", but everyone has a scenario like that. In fact, everyone has an infinite number of scenarios like that.

What would I do for I living if I got sick or had an accident and could no longer meet the physical demands of my job?

What would I do if I had a breakdown and needed everything to stop?

What's my contingency plan for if my entire company exploded and I got laid off without warning?

What've I got lined up if a global pandemic shut down all in-person jobs?

What's my backup plan if I lost the sense I needed to create the art I specialize in?

What if my mind deteriorated and I could no longer engage with reality at all?

What if technological advancement replaced the need my job currently fills?

What'e my plan for if I lose someone I love and it breaks me?

What will I do if a natural disaster destroys my house?

Where will I live if a meteor hit the earth tomorrow?

The idea that "content creators" overspecialize ignores the fact that most people get very comfortable doing the thing they spend most of their time doing, and very rarely seriously plan for the scenario where their One Thing is ripped away from them and they have to find something else. The phenomenon of "person loses their job after years of work" is famous for being massively disruptive, and that isn't because everyone in the world is dumb or bad at planning ahead - it's because a disruption like that is a disruption, in the same way that an injury will always hurt. I don't think it's a failing for someone to live their life as it currently exists, just like it isn't a personal failing if someone experiences a catastrophic change and has to readjust. You can't solve a problem that doesn't exist yet, and if it does happen, it'll come with information and parameters that you'll need to actually deal with it rather than just worrying about it.

If youtube explodes, maybe I'd join our other youtube friends on another platform as we all worked to solve the same problem together. Maybe I'd be in a financial position where I wouldn't need an immediate fallback plan and could take uncomplicated time off. Maybe I'd pivot 100% to writing. Maybe I'd drop off the grid and live in the woods for a while. Maybe I'd get serious about pursuing voice acting or theater. Maybe a friend would recommend an opening at their normal person job. Since we're only pondering a hypothetical catastrophe, we can't predict any of the other factors that'd be in play that would actually determine how we'd handle it.

Most of us will experience many life-changing turning points, and in turn get to experience many different lives. I'm very much enjoying this one, but I'm not worried about what the next one might look like. Overplanning will spoil the adventure with needless anxiety - I'll just be excited to explore it whenever it comes.