#not THE the stinky but the stinky in my mind

[anon-sect]

Picture source: Instagram account: @colestheking

Ken had a healthy relationship with his big brother for a long time. They would talk and text each other just about every day without a break in the routine. Two weeks ago, Ken had stopped hearing from his big brother Harry. He texted each day for two weeks, and there was no response back. He called several times, but his brother's phone would go directly to voicemail each time. He really worried that something must have happened. It was unlike Harry to go this long without even one reply.

A few more days later, Ken received a text to his phone from a strange number he didn't recongized. He usually doesn't reply back to such text until the second message caught his attention. "Your brother was very good on my feet for the past two weeks, but it seem like he couldn't handle my feet for too long." A picture of a guy with a torn sock on the one foot came up next. He then recieved a text from Harry's phone after such a long time with the same picture as well.

Ken called Harry's phone, but it wasn't Harry answering it. "Listen, your brother kept wanting to worship my feet so much, so I gave him the perfect opportunity to do so by being my socks. Unfortunately, half of him didn't make a full month." He heard the guy laugh on the other end. "I am willing to give him back to you for a bid on my used socks if you want him back, otherwise I will trash your brother. Your choice." The guy hung up the phone abrutly afterwards.

Picture source: Instagram account: @colestheking

Another picture was texted to him from both numbers showing the same guy. Ken could place a bid to get his brother back, but only as a stinky pair of ruined whiter socks or let the guy just trash him away without single care. Ken knew what his only option was.

ONE WEEK LATER......

Ken received in the mail a package he was expecting. Inside was a dirty ruined pair of white socks in a Ziplock bag. The socks reeked of a strong foot odor. He quicks rezipped the bag. He felt bad for his big brother. He was unsure if all this was true, or rather he just paid for a normal pair of used up socks. Either way, he did get some satisfaction that in some sense he might have save his brother from being tossed away like trash.

Harry's mind was that of a dumb pair of socks. The guy's feet had totally crushed his spirit of ever being normal again. Each step had ingrained him that he was just a pair of socks. Even being jacked off in made him feel even more degraded as an object owned by another human being. After three weeks, he truly was just nothing, but a pair of socks totally destroyed by another man's foot.

[rootspiral]

WANDAVISION DEEP DIVE part 1

(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])

(AAA entries: [1][2])

After managing to keep away from social media for almost two months, here comes Agatha All Along sucking me back in 🙃 I want to rewatch the whole thing and see how many details I can catch, but I guess I might as well go through Agatha's scenes in Wandavision first. and you guys are coming with me!! we can all hyperfixate together (spoilers from both WV and AAA below. this is going to be just a stream of consciousness as I go through scenes, don't expect anything elaborate)

SO.

Agatha arrives in Westview attracted by Wanda's Hex. She might already suspect she's dealing with the Scarlet Witch because lbr, who has that sort of power? She takes a calculated risk to come investigate (detective Agnes of Westview on the case!) It's funny that her calculated risks are always way more emotional than she'd admit, because who in their right mind comes after the SW? But all that power is too alluring, so Agatha takes possession of Ralph's house, ruins the market value adding a creepy basement and brainwashes him into being her husband/minion/pet.

And now it's time to do what she does best, con artist is gonna con! I adore that Agatha became one of the most infamous witches in history thanks mostly to her improv skills.

She's a magical gal is a small time locale!! he's a husband who's part machiiiiiine (great now it'll get stuck in my head again)

worth nothing that both witches and androids have historically and culturally been used as queer allegories, and here's a very sapphic witch pretending to be a straight 1950s housewife and another witch who's got an elaborate fantasy going on where her husband is able to pass and all their problems are sitcom-level fixable.

How to solve the Hex mystery according to Agatha Harkness:

step #1, casually fish for personal info

step #2, flirt with your suspect (obviously)

she literally asks if Wanda's single ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

AGATHA

she's lying it on soooo thick

she dropped that pot so deliberately LMAOO stinky chaotic goblin

knowing she' s being an asshole on purpose makes this scene 100 times funnier tbh

(also a moment of silence for Sharon's irreparable trauma. her last words will be "Wanda, I'm begging you, let him breathe, please")

episode 2: Agatha keeps being a menace

And knowing now that she's always playing a part and her real personality is much more emo makes it easier to spot when she slips out of character

"was that too much? might rein it down a lil bit" (btw I'm still suspicious of Dennis the mailman and totally expect a big reveal in Westview season 3)

I'm betting that this was Agatha rather than Agnes too. she's so miserable lol. she hates playing this part so much. and that wig is hideous

not Agatha casually planting the idea of children in Wanda's head. She probably was the one making people chant "for the children" too. literally manipulating Wanda into showing her if she can create life, calculated risk my ass, she's out here playing with fire

(does that mean that Agatha is a liiiiiiitle bit Billy's and Tommy's parent too?? she planTED the sEED. hear me OUT.)

you know she was dead inside at having to sit through the whole talent show. she probably took it out on the contestants and made them trip onstage or something

Episode 3 of pappappa pappappa wandavision!

Agatha helping Wanda to pick baby clothes, I'm going to sob. (look at this technicolor filter! modern shows CAN color their shit! it's just that they'd rather make everything look like muddy ass instead)

not much from Agatha this episode except scheming to get Monica kicked out of the Hex, seeing as she's the biggest obstacle between herself and Wanda ('s powers). Also you know she was stalking the house to keep track of when the babies were born. Also also, the painted scenery! Like mother like son, it's such a big hint about the nature of the Road.

look at this piece of shit, I love her so much. And she does tend to wink when she's just told a truly egregious lie, doesn't she? it's like her little signature.

Agatha in episode 5 coming in like: LEMME SEE THOSE BABIESSSSSSS

kathryn hahn with 80s curls is doing something to me, let me tell you

so manipulative, in so many ways. and knowing what we know now about Agatha and children, imagine the turmoil inside of her!! triumph at having confirmation of Wanda's life-giving powers. nervousness about the mess she's putting herself in. exasperation at having to keep up the charade. and, most importantly, getting to HOLD A BABY BOY AFTER ALL THIS TIME (amazing, terrifying, traumatic, wonderful)

what is she doiiiing. this bitch, I swear.

OH MY GAWD I FORGOT WANDA SAID THIS. "so she keeps coming at me like a cat in heat, that's not her fault Vision, she has a Medical Condition"

"kids. can't control them. no matter how hard you try"??????? the suddenly wistful voice?????????????????????? why don't I fling myself off a cliff?????????????????? was this woman actually honestly dying inside while still having to play pretend, I can't, I cannot. And how much of Agatha's backstory was decided at this point, was Kathryn given a general idea?

Agatha and Billy, partners in crime already! Seriously, Jac Schaeffer must have had an idea of where this was going. And it's obvious in retrospect that Agatha would be drawn to Billy the most, he's a witch unlike Tommy and he's such a polite, sweet little fellow, he probably reminded her of Nicky so much?? Here's this scary dangerous witch who on one side is planning to murder everyone in the room, and on the other is fighting back the urge to go full mama bear on this kid and protect and cherish him forever. This is not what she signed up for when she decided to stalk Wanda!

She is so horrible. She is despicable. I'm allowed to say it because I love her so much! I can't remember, was it revealed that she turned a fly into a dog or something? Or did she kidnap a dog dog from a shelter / someone's garden and then stone cold killed him? No, wait, she made Ralph kill him. Do your own killing of cute innocent little creatures, you coward! Love that vest tho.

"Fix the dead!" "You can do that?" And of course she's pretending here but you know that's EXACTLY what this whole sordid Sparky affair was about, she's testing and prodding at Wanda's powers, trying to figure out her limits. There's an eagerness here that she doesn't need to fake. Who knows, maybe she was actually squeamish about killing the dog (she does have a cuddly bunny and woves him vewy much), hence why Ralph had to do it. But more importantly even if she didn't like killing a pet, even if she wasn't happy about traumatizing these kids - that's exactly what she's doing here, she's willingly hurting two children - she went and did it anyway, because her thirst for Wanda's powers is too big. She kills witches out of anger, out of fear and self-preservation. She is ultimately a selfish person, and that is what makes her a villain. It's not that she doesn't have feelings. She has plenty of feelings, she has a conscience, and she chooses to do the bad thing anyway.

"And we can't reverse death. No matter how sad it makes us. Okay? Some things are forever." These two shows above all else are about grief. You can peel this scene and find more and more layers, it was about the kids losing Sparky at first but also about Wanda losing Pietro, Wanda losing Vision, Wanda losing the kids. And it's also, DEFINITELY about Agatha losing Nicky. I need a drink.

Agatha discreetly wiping a tear in the background nbd

And I can only upload 30 pictures per post so there's going to be a part two. I was NOT planning to write so much, help. What are you doing to me AGATHA

go to part 2

[ofmermaidstories]

guys, the gravity falls fandom keeps HURTING MY FEELINGS!!!!! 😭😭😭 THEY KEEP SEPARATING THE TWINS STOP SEPARATING THEM STOP IT!!!!! 😭😭😭😭😭 i legitimately cannot HANDLE it anymore omfg. i was just innocently scrolling tiktok MINDING MY OWN BUSINESS and eating a bahn mi (delicious, btw, i slathered the pâté on 😌) AND THEN ANOTHER FUCKING DRIFTING STARS AU JUMPED ME!!!! and i have NO ONE to complain about this to bc ur all too busy with your stinky anime boyfriends!!!!!!!! 😭😭😭😭😭😭 STOP SEPARATING THE TWINS REEEEEEEE

[clownboymcchucklefuck]

hi hi hi hi So for people who don't remember the birthdays of the colored gaze boys:

Seth - September 15th

Zachary- October 11th

Simon - November 29th

I will be doing some writing and oneshots for their birthdays so YIPEEEE

[dapper-lil-arts]

If Applejack had whatsapp 🤣🤣🤣

[here-comes-the-moose]

Echo about Omega: This is my darling baby sister. An absolute sweetheart. My pride and joy.

Echo about the other batchers: These are my stinky little brothers. I found them in the trash one day and they wouldn’t leave.

[booigismansion]

SOME DOODLE REQUESTS FROM INSTA :D

That one is my fave so far 😭🙏

+ some extras!!!

[cherbearsz]

they put those sonic/knuckles/rouge interactions in sonic dream team for MEEEEEE

[hcdragonwrites]

Tangled Love

(A @semisolidmind Drabble)

Ok! I ran this by Semi before I posted just because I know absolutely nothing about LMK (except the animation can be so pretty!) just so I could get their characters down. I hope you all like it !

She just wanted to escape- both from this place and from her own mind tonight.

The ghosts of memories were walking and she had no distractions to chase them away.

Peaches walked the cool cavern halls of Water- Curtain Cave, her feet echoing in the depths. The sandals she wore and the ornamental clothing she had been thrown into made her scalp prickle and her skin itch. It was too much- but the attendants wouldn’t hear a thing about it.

She had to look the part of Queen.

Peaches, in the absence of the Lord of the mountain and his right hand and sword, was the remaining voice of authority.

To a point.

Finishing with courtly duties and listening in on behalf of her husbands wasn't a huge chore. The two of them rarely left at the same time however. If one was called away the other would remain. Or Peaches herself would be brought along.

This time however she hadn’t been.

It was the first time in ten years.

She had just this night- just this moment of reprieve and she would make the most of it. Or so she thought. Instead, she was fighting something that reared its head and struck her nerves like a asp.

However she wasn’t alone quite yet. As she rounded the corner and came to golden lacquered doors of her bedchamber - their bedchamber- she paused.

“Will that be all my queen?” One of the attending retinue of her guard asked. It was a guard her husbands insisted upon whenever both were away from home- a set of seven of the most battle scarred simians Peaches had ever seen.

They were tasked and sworn with following her everywhere - to the dining hall, to the throne room. If she wished to go and sit among the apple trees and listen to the wind play over the mountain grasses her guard would double in size. Peaches tried to not cause the denizens of Flower fruit mountain any more problems or stressors by going outside when both the King and his Brother in arms were away on a war path.

Her husbands.

It’s what they titled themselves now, after a decade of the terrible start they had on their relationship with her. When she had met the two, they had been just tiny monkeys. A sly looking ginger and gold monkey who had loved to cling to her arms and a dark black furred monkey that brought her fruits and almonds from the wild.

My sweet boys.

They had been her monkeys back then- the little prankster angels she had thought were just simple beasts, trying to survive out in the world.

She had been wrong.

The decision to upend her life, she guessed, had been floated around for months between the two disguised demons as they ate her fruit and enjoyed her touches. It was a mutual one that both had decided was the best option for her.

She took a steadying breath, coming back to the present. Peaches wanted a chance to be alone. Something so rare she craved it like a man in a desert craved water.

“Yes, general. I think I’ll retire early for the day.” She smiled at the monkey who dipped his body into a bow. The gleam of his armor set the flickers of a memory brewing. Fire in the trees, the smell of iron on the wind and a figure among the debris. She shook her head to dislodge it. The rest of them weren’t awful to her. Her husbands weren’t awful to her. They had just ….

Taken away her decisions.

“Very well Queen.” Peaches flinched, unable to quite stomach the title and what that truly meant. If I am queen then why am I without choices? “If you need us call us.”

She turned the handle in the door and slipped in side with as much grace as she could muster.

Peaches closed the ornamental doors to the bedroom, resting her head against the door. Steady. Deep breaths. In through her nose out through her mouth.

The illusion of a paradise that Wukong had built and Macaque helped facilitate always lost its color and believability when they were away. They couldn’t feed her the sugared lies and candied perceptions to tamp back the memories of that night.

It had been just another night on the small farm - a June night of heat and singing cicadas- of windows wide open and Peaches trying to escape that heat. There wasn’t much she could do to escape it. The moisture clung to her and made her bedding stick and clog her nose. So on these nights she stayed up, usually with a candle or the moon to illuminate her night, and read.

The knock on the door was not something typical.

The memory was rising and she couldn’t hold it back. I have to ride it out. Survive it.

Like she had survived that night. Getting visitors in the dead of the night had been unconventional- and she remembered the feeling of being perturbed. Don’t answer it, she told the memory. But this was the past and ghosts of the past didn’t change their course.

She had closed her book, had stepped down the hall to the door and had opened it.

I should have called through- told him to stay away! I should have never left my bed or my book.

It was a drunk man. A fellow farm hand called in for one of the families to help bring in a harvest that had proved too bountiful for the immediate family to handle. Peaches could see the man before her eyes, smell the reek of him.

A drunk.

“Well ain’t it the village spinster! Whaaa da pretty thing you are!” He was a cloud of bitter rice wine, of too much sake on his breath. The intensity of it had a physical effect on her memory and in the present, Peaches wrinkled her nose.

“You should go home Sir.” She had told him- tried to close the door.

His foot moved faster and his hands had caught the door.

A wild set of emotions swept through her. She had to sit her body down, thankful she had been able to get away from the other monkeys before the memory seized her like a vice. They would have been in a panic over her and she couldn’t let their little hearts worry so. There was nothing they could do to stop the remembering.

It was his fault this all happened. It was His. He didn’t have to be drunk and show up at my home- he didn’t have to shove his way into my house and try and grab me.

But he was just a single man. Did his actions warrant the destruction that happened next ?

“Get out!” Her memory self cried. The wooden table she danced behind as the drunk stumbled and moved towards her, was her only shield.

“The Boys Said you prefer the company of wild animals …” his speech was hard to hear. The wine had made him bold, stupid, and aroused it seemed. “I thought I would give you mtaste of what a real man was, since the villagers are al’ ‘fraid of your Witchery with monkeys.”

She had run- she had thrown her things at him. It was probably the commotion of her breaking a pitcher over his head that had alerted her monkeys. The loud clatter of the pottery across the floor had sounded so sharp and final. It had only made the man more determined.

The drunk when he did get his hands on her was furious. He swung a fist and sent stars into her eyes. Peaches had clung like a wildcat to her conscious, kicking out with legs and swinging with fists. Her nose was full of the sour smell of him- had felt his hands and fought them. A kick to his groin had sent him wheezing. Another fist to her head had Peaches crying. She had stared that drunk in his mean little eyes as he whispered the terrible things he wanted to do to her.

She had been staring in those eyes when he died.

He never got to touch more than her arms that night.

Peaches heard something step through the door that had been left open to the night. She had heard the creak of her house as something walked within it. And the sound of something- like a water skin being popped and a splash of warm liquid against her belly had shocked her.

The Drunks eyes went wide with confusion, rolling horselike in his head. His bruising grip on her wrist had let go. In the present, She rubbed those wrists, the phantom pains hard.

“..mah… belly.” The drunk had mumbled then belched a bucket of blood onto the floor. Peaches could see something protruding from his middle- something long and thin like a stick. Or a staff.

Clawed hands pulled the head back and twisted with a fury. The sound of bones breaking was loud, as if a fire was consuming dry wood. The drunk crumbled in those hands like a puppet cut free of its strings.

A new stranger stood in her home, his frame large and broad and most assuredly not human. He tossed the body like someone would toss a rag across the floor. The glowing eyes in the sudden dark were all she could see. Her mind, even in its heightened adrenaline drenched state, recognized the face pattern, saw a familiarity in the fur. There was, in fact, still a little flower tucked against this demonic creatures ear. The same flower she had interwoven in her forest friend's fur that afternoon.

“Your… your my…”

Nerves and the come down from the adrenaline high we’re making speech hard. The monkey demon before her, who’s eyes seemed to spit fire, softened. Just a bit.

“You are my Peaches.” Wukong said, touching her hair, her face, her hands. Taking stock. Then he had taken those limp hands and threaded them through his fur, trying to get them to grip. It would help his own rage and calm her fear. It was thick in the air, ruining the natural sweet smell she had. That and the slab of flesh on the floors own fetid death scent.

Wukong was not the best at this - this comfort thing. But he would rise to the occasion. He would try for her.

Fury and rage made his tail lash and the fur along his neck to stand on end.

At first she had just been a simple human that would leave little offerings to him and his brother in arms. An oddity here in the shadow of his mountain. Most humans around here feared the monkeys and kept away from all of them, having a legend that if one was harmed a great calamity would befall them.

Wukong didn’t mind being that calamity. These were his people, his subjects. So hearing the chatter from some of his kind that a women had begun to leave out gifts had of course spiked the Kings curiosity. The humans beneath Flower Fruit Mountain were his lesser subjects. So he had come down from the mountain, disguising himself as a smaller and more approachable sized monkey, to see the fuss his subjects had started gossiping about at groomings. Only to see his brother, Macaque, already being petted and tended and kissed on each of his six ears.

Of course first impressions had been terrible and Wukong, used to getting the first pick of everything, had come screeching into the clearing and demanding his own pets. It had set off a very small and very mock little battle between the two brothers in arms. One that had Peaches separating them and scolding them as she patched up the little scratches they had taken from eachother. They could have each resisted her pull but both decided that play acting a fight, even if it had started as a bit of one, was the best way to get attention divided between the both of them.

Wukong hadn’t expected to become infatuated. Her name didn’t matter to him- he had rebranded her almost the instant she came to him and offered a smile and held out a handful of sugar and dates. Peaches. After the Kings own favorite fruit, the sweetest thing the mountain produced.

His Peaches.

Of course also Macaques. He shared everything with his brother, the dark furred and six eared demon who had faced battles and won wars besides Wukong. While Wukong had been more leery, Peaches won him over faster than Flower Wine loosened his rigid posture. They had both fallen for this mortal women. And, in the traditional way she belonged to them. She just didn’t know it yet. They had touched and groomed and cuddled and tangled limbs and tails. They were practically married without the marriage bit.

Wukong rubbed small circles into Peaches back, trying to keep himself from bearing his teeth in rage.

I should have taken her home the moment she kissed me.

They had been kisses of the kind one gives to a friend or pet. It had left the warlord craving more burning with more.

Of wanting to feel her give him more than just a chaste kiss on the side of his face.

She wouldn’t have been hurt if he had just taken her home.

Wukong and Macaque had taken to one or both spending the night in Peaches trees, to keep an eye on her. Wukongs obsession had grown into a fascination and warm buttery love. A love that was becoming a wild inferno as he fought to stay still and not leap upon the corpse he had made and turn it into nothing but bits of flesh and gore the crows could carry away.

His Peaches fingers finally grasped his fur and shook. It brought Wukong back from his montage of rage to the present. If only Mac was here — but he wasn’t. He was back at home on Flower Fruit mountain , giving his brother the night to enjoy and keep lookout at Peaches den.

“That’s my girl.” The demon tried to soothe. He really wished he could set Peaches down and finish off what he had started. This place had been bad. This village terrible. He hated every thing and one here that had dared to let a drunken fool up to his Peaches doorstep and allowed this to happen. In reality Wukong was mad it had been Mac’s own sense of importance on taking it slow and letting a little thing like a life outside of Flower Fruit Mountain stop him from from revealing who he was and taking her home.

I am done trying to woo her over slowly. They could have lost her this night if Wukong hadn’t been in earshot, hadn’t heard the crash of something breaking. His clawed hands wrapped around her back and beneath her legs. Before he could realize it, Wukong had her up and in his arms, already stepping on and across the corpse and out into the June air. Mine.

“Let’s get you home, lovely.” Wukongs voice was thick with emotion. Relief to finally, finally, finally have an excuse to take his wife home, to see her sleep in a real bed and eat real food made his heart swell. No more pretending. No more longing. It was happening now. Simmering beneath that emotion was the sweet bubble, the red misting rage, of violence. Once he got her home, got her safe, got her tangled within some of his and Macaques blankets to where the sour smell of fear would be lost within the scent of them- he could come back. He would come back.

He would destroy the village for being the obstacle it was in his conquest for this mortal girls heart. It was in itself, a relief to know he was justified in its destruction.

Look what this place did to bruise my sweet fruit.

Peaches was shaking. Clinging to him. I would have her cling to me always. He pressed his nose into her neck, breathing in as he walked off. She smelled so good. He rubbed his face to hers, affectionately smothering her fear scent. Wukong felt a smile curl his face. Finally. We can go home and put the charade to bed. Finally you are mine.

Peaches' memory of that night was mostly of clinging to Wukong as they flew through the air, of his voice a rumble of soft words and comforts. He was holding her close, pressing her in. Smothering her in a sense. But she needed it. She clung to it in a way to stop herself from being sick from fright. It was strange but familiar to hold this fur, to cling. Then she briefly remembered another voice, another set of hands. When she looked up and saw that her sweet dark monkey was also here, had also been a demon in disguise, something broke in her. Maybe hysteria. Maybe disbelief. Or maybe she knew, somewhere in her mind, that no matter what she said now wouldn’t save the people- the innocents- in her village.

Peaches had been transferred into the dark arms and THATS where she finally began to cry. The shock was fading and leaving behind ragged holes of emotion.

“Safe, you're safe now.” She was reassured. Hands had lifted her chin, her sweet little monkey- now a demonic one- was gently beginning to sponge away the blood from the cuts on her face. Her cheek swelled, her eye with it.

“Please don’t kill them.” She begged. “He already took care of the one who hurt me don’t kill my village.”

“Hush love…”

“Please!”

Silence. Something cold pressed to her face- a bit of snow from far up the mountain wrapped in cloth. Macaques ears twitched like flower petals in the night air.

“It’s already done. The village is already gone.”

The memory rode itself out in the present and faded slowly.

Guilt washed over her and she cried all for a new reason. She had been the catalyst for Sun Wukongs fury. She had been the decider to his want of destruction. Peaches may not have killed them, may have had a decade to realize that what had happened wasn’t her fault, but Wukong had done it in her name. He had erased that village and all its people like a cartographer reshapes a map. To all the rest of the world, their had never been a village in the shadow of Flower fruit mountain. Not a foundation, not a brick, not even a spare hair, was left of humanity there. Instead it had been cleared as if a fire had swept through. Peaches had seen it on one occasion when Wukong had been persuaded to show her. She had needed closure. Needed the peace.

Once she had healed she had been told her village was gone. She had been given a sweet lie- that Wukong had gone back and the villagers related to the drunk had been ransacking her house to see where she kept the money or any spare wine.

When Wukong had shown up demanding they answer to the crime committed in her home, they had attacked. Wukong had enacted a king's justice as was his right. He had told the remaining villagers to leave- to never set foot upon his domain again for the lawlessness that had been enacted upon their neighbor.

It had taken two years for her to be able to relax whenever he came in smelling of fire and iron. It had taken a few years more for her to remember what Macaque had said when he had pressed snow to her face.

They were the same little monkeys they had been before. But now they had less innocence when they pressed into her face for kisses, when they asked to tangle and cuddle limbs. They insisted she stay in the bedchamber and not move to her own separate room.

It had taken getting used to movement beside her as a hand tugged her hair, or a tale twined her waist. Or a leg curled with hers or hands holding her face. Sometimes in the dark Mac would press his head to her back, using her as a pillow. Wukong would yank her in when he thought her too sleepy to remember and whisper all the things he loved about her.

It would have been sweet. It was touching in a way. If not for the way they revealed themselves. If not for that memory and what she knew now had come after.

It had not taken too long after that for her to start realizing that, though Wukong had saved her, neither of them had any regret of what happened. Neither of them was going to let her go.

When she asked about it or started talking of missing her home- the simple living, the ability to really on herself and choose for herself- Wukong would laugh and launch into one of his tales. He would brush her hair with his claws, run his face against hers and try and deflect her attention to new things.

Macaque, if Wukong was absent, would let her talk. Usually it happened when he asked her to brush his fur or he in turn asked to brush her hair. Peaches thought, just a bit, that the reason Mac was better at listening was for all the ears he had. Each time however, when she got to the part about how this had been her fault, he would stop mid way through a braid or pin and pull her in. Macaque would kiss the tears from her eyes, would press himself close to her chest.

“It was Never your fault Peaches.”

“I remember. I remember he went back- you said he—“

“Hush love you’ll grow hysterical. What Wukong did was justified- he defended you.”

“He killed.”

“I have killed.” He kissed her temple, gentle in his reprimands. He wouldn’t try and brush her words beneath a rug like Wukong. Instead he gave her a smile as wide as the crescent moon. “Let’s finish your hair and get you dressed. We can go see the baby’s, I know how you love the baby’s.” Baby monkeys were her weakness. They had been what led to her loving Mac before she had known he was a demonic warlord.

Peaches rubbed at her eyes and stood, the sorrow in her heart heavy still but the tears at least had stopped. Now she was just tired. Tired and cold and wanting to escape the feeling of it all. So she shed her courtly attire. All the clips and jewels and baubles and bits felt heavy. She placed them within the box at her armoire, then loosened her hair from its bindings. Jade pins, pearl necklaces, golden bracelets with bells of silver (Wukong loved this the best of all) all glimmered back in the firelight.

A pretty price.

She snapped the box closed.

On nights like this, she wanted to wear nothing but her smock, her simple clothing, and bury herself as far as she could go into the bed she shared with her husbands.

It was more of a pit set into the ground, circular in nature. Silken pillows, red sheets and a hoard of anything plush and furred had been thrown into the pit. It was also a snug place to bury herself within and one of the few things she didn’t feel resentment too right away. When the outside felt too bright and she couldn’t go about the mountain to her usual quiet places, she would retire here. To burrow, to bury, to hide.

Peach fell back into the pit of blankets and pillows and pulled herself beneath a fur of some striped monster Macaque had skinned and gifted to her. Tonight the bitter truth was hard to swallow and did circles in her head.

You did this. You caused this. You killed them. This is your fault.

She closed her eyes and hoped … hoped for what might be the worst thing yet. Her husband's return.

A time later she stirred. Something was in her room- was walking to the bed. Peaches felt a flutter of fear before hands reached into her hiding place and simply slid her out.

“Hello darling.” The silken voice belonged to none other than Macaque. His clawed hands entwined around her waist, his teeth nipping at her ear. “You are up late.”

“Does that mean it will be a late morning?” Wukongs voice came from the other side of the room. Peaches could see the ginger monkey removing armor from his shoulders and stretching. As the darker brother kept making a snack of her shoulder, Peaches noticed that the shine of Wukongs paldrom was dimmed. Something black coated the golden imprint of sunbursts across its armored surface. “I love late mornings! Means more time together.”

Blood?

“Peaches?” She turned her head, trying to see Mac. He had left off nipping her skin. A hand came away from her wrist and tipped her chin, forcing her to stare directly into his violet eyes. “What has upset you?”

Everything. Myself. Wukong. You. It was that simple question that set her sorrow to flowing again. She was confused, upset, and she wanted comfort. The only ones who could give her comfort were the very ones who caused her distress.

A vicious cycle.

The pillows behind her sagged. Wukongs hands were more aggressive in their touches, turning her about to stare into her face. He noted the tears, the bruising beneath her eyes. His lip curled in anger.

“Has someone upset you?” Wukong asked. He seemed ready to stand again, to grab his armor and step out into the night. “I will drag them here to give an apology. You name them and I will fetch them.”

Peaches shook her head.

“Just ….” You killing the villagers, Macaque telling me plainly that it was for the best, and my own head making me relive that night of events. Over and over and over.

“…. Myself.”

His face softened as he chirped a reassurance, pressing his nose to hers. Macaque peppered her in gentle and butterfly soft kisses to the back of her neck. The three fell back into the nest, limbs entwined and hands holding. Macaque had Peaches face buried in his chest as she sobbed silently. He cooed. He whispered how everything would be right as rain in the morning. His hands ran through her hair and messaged her scalp. Wukong held his Peaches, pressing her back to his chest in a solid wall against the world outside. He lavished her in praises and compliments, sometimes getting carried away and talking about himself until his brother would remind him with a flick to his forehead that it was their Peaches he should be reassuring.

And through it all, through this twisted and tangled weave of limbs and fur and warmth and sorrow, Peaches felt love. It grew in this dark place still, wanting to thrive. But how could it?

Still she fell asleep, lashes sparkled with tears and her heart lighter. One could only be sad so long in the wake of such waves of attention. Wukongs and Macaques love was the only solution to this ailment they had inflicted upon her, and she, the addict, swallowing the medicine that would give her release.

[failyaoi]

Johnshi/Kencageblade/Swordblade kid oc just dropped (read tags for more info)

[indydrawsstuff]

Goopster.

Also there's a screen recording.

[marclef]

19 Days of goofy aahhhhh stuff ✨

something strange happened a bit after the Fakelings went off into the world; even though nothing else in town changed, it seemed like most of the garbage around completely disappeared, even in tucked-away dumpsters and nooks. it was something Peppino noticed as well, most of the garbage he'd throw out at night was completely gone by morning! normally he'd blame Fake Peppino for it, but even his clone argued against it being him. when going out one night to check what the culprit was, Fake Peppino soon discovered a familiar yet changed face:

it was one of his own, having grown into the trash-munching creature known as Trashino! it seemed Fake's trash-eating habits had rubbed off on one of his little Fakelings... much more than any of the others.

Trashino is fairly reclusive, and mostly moves around in the dark of night, scavenging through any waste bins or the like that he can fine. unlike Fake Peppino, his body's grown to be able to absorb much harder stuff, so metal and plastic trash is eaten up without any issue. the places Trashino feeds from are left near-spotless; not a trace of trash left behind! at least it means trash buildup has been much less of a problem...

but, he will eat just about everything that he finds during trash-hunting runs, from bags of clothing to rival raccoons also searching for a meal... in fact, he grew himself a tail of his very own after the first time he feasted on a raccoon, the fluffy tail was his favorite part! it's unfortunate that his own tail isn't fluffy like that; it's Goop, just like the rest of him. but he still loves it, and uses it to hold stuff open, or bash away unwanted intruders! he is pretty skittish around humans though, fleeing at the first signs of anyone near. even still, you'd do best not to show aggression to him, because he WILL defend himself if necessary.

(but, it's not too hard to sneak up on him, especially if he's sluggish after a night of nonstop gorging.)

[angelicmoonstone]

Inspired by Soropin’s Deadly Note, I caved. Plus I was inspired by an ocarina I wanna get. Apparently the ocarina itself is supposed to be based on a crystal that goes into light sabers yet they played Barbie Girl on it. Quite the jump; Star Wars to Barbie XD

Also using Stinkie as a crash dummy because screw you. But any critique or suggestions is welcome. Just don’t go feral lol

[aroacesetitoff]

Diiiiiiiiid someone ask for a Maharlika lore dump????? (hi @drearygenie :))

"Maharlika" 

Dragonborn Gloomstalker Ranger

Multiclassed Way of the Shadows Monk 

Chaotic Evil Alignment

32 she/they 

Maharlika has gone by many names, but this is the one she wears now as a new recruit of Paralyte's Everguard. 

        Neither cruel nor kind, they hold no grudges and honor no favors, but she is considered a traitor among the Dragonborn of Tetora. Adopted by and raised in a monastery dedicated to Dia, she was expected be a pillar of community, but they never felt like that was the right place for them. They turned their back on them and worked for Inku and the Tetragogues for some time, before an accident forced them out of the shadows and running from the long arm of Tetora's law. 

      She knows more than they let on, but in her own words "I'm payed to kill, not to care." Indifferent as they seem, however, Boulderay has made them curious, and she'll stick around to see what may happen next.

Timeline

0-19

Born in Tetora, raised in an Ascendant Dragon monastery, went by the given name Buwan (moon), begrudging follower of Dia

19-29

Left home, changed monastic tradition, joined the forces of Inku and the Tetragogues, went by the given name Kadiliman (darkness)

29-32

Captured and imprisoned by Tetoran Law, eventually broke out and wandered from coast to coast before ending up in Boulderay as an Everguard, goes by the chosen name Maharlika (noble)

[dapper-lil-arts]

had a hilarious thought on my hormones doctor appointment

[starsillys]

Old kinito doodlws and my human design for him

he haunts me