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#instantly passed out on me
slopmaster9000 · 2 months
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my girlfriend has a napping addiction
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uncanny-tranny · 6 months
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The thing that gets me about history and humanity is that you never know what is immortalized, and the things that will be immortalized are things you would never think.
I saw a person sharing a new tattoo, and it was one of Onfim's drawings. A boy who lived so long ago he is barely a blip now, but his drawings meant so much to people that somebody is now permanently marked in their skin with one of those drawings. Do you ever look at the things you make and just sit there and wonder if this is the thing that future people look at? Do you ever look at your art, your writing, your schoolwork, or anything that is yours and just wonder who will find it, who will fall in love with a piece of your humanity and become overwhelmed with emotion over? It's not unlikely. It's not totally unlikely that somebody will find a piece of you in the distant future and devoid of any other context of who you were will still love you because you were here. You were here, and you are still here, even hundreds or thousands of years later. Treat yourself with the same love that so many have for dear Onfim.
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b0nelessdoodles · 3 months
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buncha heket doodles cause i love the frog i love her so much beloved big frog
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crispywizardtale · 4 months
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xenonsdoodles · 5 months
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"He said he had too much work left to do and he couldn't go to bed yet. I'll give him your message when he wakes up."
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hcdragonwrites · 9 months
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Just one night (a @journey-to-the-au Drabble)
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Ok this is the part two! This is the comfort/ fluff of what happens after Six Eared Macaques previous rampage from Nightmares. I am glad I split these into two so people can pick and choose.
Mild trigger warning: Brief mentions of attempted SA (again nothing goes into detail at all but still sometimes this can still be a trigger.)
It’s over.
The nightmare is over.
Then why does it feel like i'm breathing but I can’t catch my breath?
Willow felt her heart beating too fast, her mind repeating the nightmare.
The cave still smelled of blood.
The imposter was dead. He lay there, finally revealed, a monkey of gray blue fur with a face of shadows. Nothing to be distinguishable of who, or what, his personality had been before it assumed the skin of their leader. Of her friend.
Of Wukong.
Her Wukong had come through the water of Water Curtain Cave in a flash of gold, eyes blazing red. Almost like a Heaven send. A blessing.
In that moment Willow had stepped forward, to the embrace of this nightmare she had dutifully taken as her yoke, a blur or fiery orange had smashed its way through the curtain of water.
“IMPOSTER!” He had called in challenge, his staff coming free of his ear. With a flick of the Kings wrist, the weapon grew in tremendous size.
The imposter had turned, hackles rising, bloody mouth circling back into a snarl. Wukong had roared. The imposter had screamed. Then they were upon each other. It had been a battle, long and difficult. Fur had flown, stone had shaken. At times the combatants had traversed the skies, shooting like two wayward stars from a bow through the Heavens. More blood fell.
In the midst of it, the imposter had cleaned the remnants of its meal from his mouth, making it impossible to tell the twisting and twining fighters apart. Which was which?
Willow had waited as finally, after gods and other immortals had been unable to tell who was who, Mama Courage and Wisdom stepped forward. Willow couldn’t hear the words being spoken between the celestials and Wisdom. She could only hear a ringing in her ears, a drumming of her heart.
She couldn’t catch her breath.
Willow's palms were wet with sweat and white. Whiter than porcelain. Courage took one of those hands, holding it tight. Breaking her numbness, her shock. Willow grasped the hand, holding on. The fear still coiled in her gut, a snake tightening its hold on her. But Courages hand was the anchor she clung to as her body battles within itself.
Wisdom had found him out, had picked out the real Wukong. A mother knew her child. That’s when the imposter had lost. He had felt it, probably, sensing the shift in the wind. In that moment he tried to run. The mirage of his disguise had fallen off in the fright. Wild white eyes, teeth bared of flesh. And now.
He was nothing more than a stain on the floor.
“Don’t you want to kiss me?” The words echo, still alive within Willows head.
Willow was trying to drown those words out.
She’s failing.
The storm inside her body is a rage of water, threatening to drag her down. Those blue eyes flash sharply in her head and Willow feels herself shake.
“Willow?”
She startles. She flinches, shaken from the very real echo of what had almost happened. “Reaffirm our union… Maybe more later.”
Willow looks up, kneeling on the stone floor of the cave. She doesn’t remember when she sat back down. Wukong stands before her. He blocks her view from the rest of the cave, from what the other troop members are beginning to clean up. He blocks her view from the bodies. But Willow still sees the imposter, has to see it. She has to kill the fear in her head that at any moment, any second, those ice eyes can come back and stare into her. To ask things of her that make her soul pull away and her body go cold.
“Willow?”
Wukong stands before her, eyes o so vulnerable. His voice is bleeding uncertainty, his hands fidgeting. He looks to her then looks away, confused on what to do.
Willow also doesn’t know what to do.
How do you tell your friend that someone wore their skin and killed and began to stalk her every step? Willow feels Mama Courage beside her, the hand squeezing. She looks up.
‘It’s him Willow. It’s our Stone Monkey.’ She signs and taps in her unique monkey way. It had taken a long time for Willow to learn this sign language, struggling but wanting to understand. Now, after decades of living together she had mastered this speech. ‘Go. You both need each other.’
‘What of you? He needs his mothers too.’ Willow signs back, not trusting her voice. That storm inside her throat is threatening to release, the track of her tears still wet. Mama Courage notices this and frowns in concern.
‘He needs a friend more. He needs you.’ She signs back. ‘And you need him most of all. To banish that demon, that nightmare. You are still shaking.’
It was true. Willows body still shook as if she had caught a deep bone chill. The blue eyes flash in her memory. Ice cold and drowning her from within Wukongs face. She had been chilled in a sense.
Before she could respond, Mama Courage had stepped away. She disappeared behind Wukong, going to help Wisdom with the mess and to spread the word of what had occurred. To reveal the truth.
Now it is just the two of them.
“It’s ok Willow.” Wukong spoke, gaze still averted. “I asked my Master if I could spend a night to … to fix the problems at home.” Willow watched as those hands wrung against each other. “But if - if what has happened- if my face brings you concern- makes you uncomfortable— I understand.”
Willow saw him step a bit off, unsure of what to do.
The eye of the hurricane was moving over Willow, that numb silence beginning to break.
Another half shuffle. He was moving closer to the carnage behind him, further from her reach. Further from her.
He’s just as afraid as I am that something has broken between us. The realization hits her like a slap.
The great wave within her, the one she had tampered down to keep her calm, to keep her cool as she had faced that monster covered in blood—
It broke through her.
Before Wukong could step further back, to disappear, to help, Willow had his face in her hands.
Willow braced her courage and stared into those eyes, determined to banish the fear that somehow, the monster had escaped. The Monkey King's eyes widened, gold within a sea of red. Willow pressed a kiss to his temple, a test.
If you are my sweet boy, my handsome monkey, she thought vehemently, this will prove it.
If you are that monster … I’ll see it in your eyes.
Willow waited.
Wukongs face was full of surprise. He blinked rapidly, uncomfortable about the intense eye contact. He looked away, looked to the side. Then he looked back up.
“Willow… what … what happened ?” For he could sense something beginning to churn within his friend. A tipping point of sorts and he, the cliff she balanced on.
The monster is dead.
Relief.
Willow breathed out. The air in her lungs shook.
Relief broke the iron in her spine. What little courage she had clung to swept away and she let it. In the dozens of decades she had been with Wukong, had cultivated and grown their trust and friendship, she had found and grown a safe place to be herself. Not Earth Reaching Willow of Polestar Palace, Eldest Daughter. To be her true self. To be one with the emotions she had suppressed. The feelings she had to repress as a princess unless she gave the wrong impression, put on the wrong face, among her fathers courtiers.
I want my friend. The longing was fierce and wild. It scorched her veins and pricked her eyes with fresh tears. A strangled sob passed between her teeth as she tried to stifle it with her fist.
“Willow?”
I need my friend - I need him.
She could be just Willow here, in his arms. She didn’t need to be a shield. She didn’t need to be a princess. She pressed her face into the crook of his neck, holding.
“The last thing I want is for you to go.” She whispered. And that’s when it fell. The tears came fast and hard, her body shaking with it. The hurricane was passing over here, the eye of the storm now past. The wind within her was full of the past years spent with the imitation of her friend. His watching eyes, his burning brushes against her hands. Those days when he had hinted, suggested, and plainly stated he wanted more—
Wukongs hands held her arms, cooed in her ear. “It’s ok Willow. Let it out. Breathe.”
“Don’t go…” she whispered, making a mess of tears on his shoulder.
“I’m not going anywhere. I’m here. I’m right here.”
Nightmares. She felt them all coming across her mind then, each time she lifted her face to catch a breath. The nightmares flashed into her head. But they weren’t nightmares.
“He can’t hurt you Willow. He can’t hurt anyone ever again.” Wukongs voice was fierce in that promise as he turned to press a kiss to her temple. Sealing the promise as he rubbed her arms like a mother to a babe.
They were memories. Of all the times the imposter, the Six Eared Macaque, had pressed her for touches. Had asked for kisses. Had attempted many times to get her away from the eyes of others. Earth Reaching Willow had walked the halls feeling eyes always upon her.
He had cornered her one terrible night and had reached for her. Willow had felt like a rabbit caught in a snare as his hand had caressed her face, had trailed to her lips. He had been interrupted by Rin Rin coming in to ask for bouquet suggestions, wanting to know what blossoms to pair best with what greens in preparation for a feast. Her friend had saved her that night and she didn’t even know.
None of them had known.
Each time the memory popped up, Willow flinched away, trying to curl deeper into the orange fur. Trying to burrow into her friend because he was real. And she needed that reality from the wake that was her mind. It grounded her, allowed her to be scared. Willow breathed him in. The imposter had never smelled quite right, had never felt quite right, hadn’t talked quite right. At least to her.
Wukong, this Wukong- her Wukong, smelled of the world, of growing things and sunlight, of ozone and wind. Of rain upon dry stone. The Six Eared Macaque had been floral and fruity, sweet like a honeyed nectar trap, like a carnivorous flower. And she the unwitting fly.
All the things he had tried to do to lure her in had failed. Willow had survived.
Barely.
My Wukong is here. My friend, my confidant, my partner in this eternity. I do not have to be brave anymore. I don’t have to be strong. Here, I can cry.
Nothing could ever replicate the muscle memory, the familial way that Willow and Wukong both folded into each other's embrace. They had hundreds of years to build this body-deep familiarity with one another. This instinctual trust.
Not even a six eared all knowing demonic monkey could copy that.
Willows sobs were not slowing. They were gaining traction instead. All the fear of years of living with a masked monster in their midst, all the close calls that Willow was remembering now, battered her. Wukong shifted a bit and she felt more than saw Wukong grow in size. Her arms moved apart, having to move from holding his face to grab his middle.
“I’m going to move us Willow. Is that alright ?” His voice is soft, questioning.
My sweet friend, so tender in his asking.
She can’t trust her own voice but nods. Then they were up, an arm beneath her leg and another holding her back. As the sounds of the waterfall retreated, Willow felt the tightness in her chest start to loosen. Breaths she couldn’t take before, that seemed to catch in her throat, came easier.
Each step took them away from the roar of the water. With each crash of tears, Willow curled into her friend. Mama Courage had been right. She had needed him.
Wukong finally stopped moving, settling the both of them down onto the stone floor. They were in an alcove, a bit of a stone hollow off of the main passageway. Willow looked up at Wukong then as he crossed his legs. He nestled her into his lap. His tail wrapped her own lags, a warm blanket against the cold.
“Comfortable?”
“Mhm..” Willow sniffed. Her nose would be stuffed later but she didn’t care. Couldn’t care. She wiped her eyes and tried to see through them.
Wukong looked terribly sad, his face on the brink of breaking itself.
“Oh darling…” she hiccuped. Willow touched his forehead. The golden circlet was cold across her fingers. “It’s not your fault.”
She could see it hurting, eating away at her friend. A worm within an apple core, destroying all the good fruit about it.
They only had one night. One night.
Willow wished for more than just a night.
“Wu-Wukong.” Her voice came out thick. Her monkey leaned into her touch, those golden eyes warm and full of love.
“You don’t need to relive those things.” He said. “Not tonight. Not ever again if you wish. You don’t even have to trust me again. My face … it has been used for terrible things…monstrous things. I see it in all of your eyes.”
Unspilled tears pooled in his face. “I can see it in your eyes. In my mothers. In my friends. In Ba and Ma and Liu and Rin Rins eyes.”
“You all have ghosts in your eyes and I can’t banish them. Because I caused them. ”
Those sad words were spoken with such sorrow, with such rejection that Willows was moving before she could think. Willow pulled his face down to hers.
“This isn’t your fault Wukong.” Willow said.
“It is completely my fault…”
“Oh my sweet Monkey…” She said into his fur. I wish you didn’t have to go- I wish you could stay here, stay with us with me, to help chase those memories into the dark. “How I missed you.”
Wukong swiped some of her tears off her cheek, rumbling not words but noises.
“But you have a pilgrimage to be a part of. You are needed there.” Willow says.
“I’m needed here.” The guilt is eating him, swallowing him up bit by bit. The words he couldn’t say were evident in his eyes. If I had been here none of this would have happened, they said.
“You will always be needed here.”
“Maybe not as welcome.” Wukong pulled back, looking away. “ A stranger took my face and committed atrocities. That face, my face, hurt you. My mothers. My friends. My home.” His voice is shaking. From anger, from sorrow, she did not know. Wukong was powerful. He had challenged Heaven, had defeated dragons, outwitted gods. He had shapeshifted into a thousand different things, had gained a weapon that matched his own abilities. He was a warrior, a King who cared for his people.
Wukong hadn’t been able to protect them. It ate at him. Swallowed him in an endless loop of pain.
“I wasn’t here to protect you.” He whispered. Wukong had burst through the cave, seeking his doppleganger with anger. When he had seen the bloody remains of Cloud, the smiling face of his imitation covered in blood and approaching his mothers and Willow—
He had lost it.
“Wukong look at me.”
He didn’t move his head, despondent. Willow dug her fingers in deeper to the fur, twisting the large monkey about just enough to see him clearly.
She carded those fingers through Wukongs fur, half comfort for her and half comfort for him. Those fingers plucked and pulled, tugged and tended in the ways the monkey king had shown her, all those years ago when she first came to Flower Fruit Mountain.
“It’s better than brushing,” He had said. “It’s a way we say we love one another and strengthen that love. A language spoken through our hands.”
Willow spoke that silent language now. She moved the fingers through and around his face, over his ears. Willow silently kissed the tears from his cheeks as she cried her own. His pain was hers. And hers was his.
In that silent and dark place the two took shelter against the world. Willow from her own memories. Wukong from his own perceived failings.
The story of what happened fell slowly from Willows lips. She held nothing back. Wukong would either stiffen or growl, huff or pull her closer at each new unearthed memory. Willow lived them again here and now, feeling the night slip between her fingers like grains of sand. She had only one night.
One night to banish that blue-eyed monster from its association with Wukong. I won’t let that demon take him from me.
It was a fierceness that surprised Willow. It gave back some of her strength, allowing her to speak nakedly about the truth of what had happened since Wukong began his pilgrimage.
I won’t let him be poisoned to me. I won’t let my experience of a few years erase more than a lifetime of memories.
Willow would not leave that between them. She loved Wukong too much to lose him to some faceless cannibal that had been a drop in the ocean of time they had spent together.
It would take more than a night Willow knew, to repair what things had been shaken. But she would get the worst of it done. She would find a way to see him again before his journey was done. She needed him. And he needed her.
If I have to blackmail all of Heaven I will. I’ll air my fathers own dirty laundry to steal a few moments with Wukong on the road. Then once he’s home I won’t let him go till he knows he’s wanted and loved by all of us. He’s family.
Willow cried and in turn counseled her friend. Wukong simply sat at times to listen, at others times he spoke of promises and things he would do, ways he would make it up to her. Willow would shake her head.
“Just be you. Just always and forever be my lovely Monkey.”
“I promise.”
And together, in the very heart of the mountain, the two wept. Once the sun rose, Wukong brought Willow back to his mothers. He said his goodbyes. The pain and indecision on his face was at war with itself. Willow, when her turn came to say goodbye, took Wukongs hand. She wrapped her pinky around his.
“When I see you again I’ll tell you of all the things we’ve done.” Willow whispered, pressing her forehead to his. “I will tell you of the seasons change and I will tell you of the coconut toddy and sweet plumb wine we drink for you on your birthday. Of Ba and Ma’s latest stunts, of how Liu and Rin Rin act cuter than ever as they continue to court. I will tell you of all the babies born and all of the younglings who try to prove themselves to their amors.”
Willow felt Wukong shake a bit. She tightened her hold on his other hand, squeezing. “I will tell you of the new trees we plant, of the new games we invent, of the new relationships we cultivate.”
“The most important thing I will tell you though is how much we love and miss you, Wukong. How we are all eagerly awaiting you back at home. How, even now, I can’t wait for your return.”
“You … mean that?” He stared, golden sunset eyes misting over with new tears.
“Oh love. You don’t have to ask. I always miss you.” She smiled. “You are my handsome monkey. My lovely monkey. My best friend. I want you to be happy. And if ever those fellows you travel with make you guess or judge yourself harshly— then I will remind them why I chose you. Of all the beings and people of the world and Heaven, I picked you. And you picked me.”
“I don’t want to go.”
“The sooner you go.” Willow said softly. “The sooner you will come back to Flower Fruit Mountain. And the sooner I can enjoy those peaceful days with my husband.”
Wukong gave one last desperate look back, and it took all of his family’s willpower not to call him, to beg him to stay. Instead, Willow waved smiling at him. Mama Courage and Mama Wisdom both held each other, smiling at their boy.
Marshal Liu stepped closer to the smaller group, along with Ma and Ba and Beng. A silent gesture of we will take care of them, in that action.
Wukong smiled, half heartedly, and leapt through the water. Gone as quickly as he had arrived.
Willow turned then, hands clasped within their robed sleeves. She had a task to do now.
“Marshal Liu?”
“You have an idea, don’t you Mrs Willow?”
“Are my thoughts that evident?” Willow smiled as Marshal Liu nodded. He kept pace with her. walking as Willow turned deeper into the cave.
“I need a few scrolls of parchment.” The idea had already taken shape in her mind. Wukong may be stuck within his duties to his pilgrims. But she was not. She would have to be wise, be careful. She didn’t want to turn this into a heavenly spectacle. She did have a few contacts, however, that could be trusted with the whole truth of her urgency. “I need to write a few letters to Heaven.”
“Heaven?”
“Yes. I know Liu. I don't write home often.” As the sounds of the waterfall faded again, Willow felt her heart thrum with determination. “One night is hardly enough time to heal what has been wrecked here. And I intend on calling on a few favors.” She would send her letters, seeking out sympathetic ears discreetly. She would help Sun Wukong heal just as much as he had helped her. They would do so together. Even if the distance may be great I will find a way.
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imperial-agent · 4 months
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i got a $200 coupon from my mother for xmas to get either my nails done, my brows tinted, lashes extended or my lips temporarly filled and this is the most direct homophobia i have ever experienced
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trainingdummyrabbit · 5 months
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i canot participate in the pm smashorpass going around but reading thru th tags yall are on another fucking LEVEL oh my god
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i-can-even-burn-salad · 3 months
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Happy STS Elli!
What inspires you to write? Are there things that you know that you can get inspiration from or does it just come randomly?
Happy STS!
For me, inspiration doesn't mean "to write".
There are, and always have been, a lot of stories floating around in my mind - ideas, scenes, vibes, outlines. I get inspiration from literally everywhere, from talking to my friends, and video games, and scrolling past images or prompts, and reading books, and spending too much time on reddit, and…
Many remain daydreams, or character backstories, eventually lost to time.
Now for actually being able to sit my ass down and get words on the page? I don't know. It comes and goes as it pleases. Having a beehive where a brain should be does NOT help, let me tell you that.
I just. Can't focus on shit lately. Can barely make it through a chapter when reading. Every day is just suddenly over, and I got nothing done, and I am so tired. I have a completely outlined short thing I have been trying to write since Nov, and it's like pulling teeth.
I could do with several months off work while everyone leaves me the fuck alone. How would that be.
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silkysong · 1 year
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i had a dream about a terrible iterator last night, i should make him an oc and draw him later
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pup-pee · 3 months
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daily reminder that bart wearing nailpolish is canon & he does let others paint them 4 him
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its-a-me-mango · 3 months
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I have to say this now before I explode into a million pieces from high energy. YOUR ART IS SO CUTE AND CRUNCHY LOOKING??? I WANT TO DEVOUR IT SO BADLY
I'll print it out and eat the paper /j
(Sorry for all caps but it's like 4AM and I'm energetic af for no reason </3)
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SCREAMING, SCREAMING CRYING THANK YOU SO MUCH, PEOPLE KEEP EATING MY ART!!!! I know I'm late replying to this (oops) but thank you so much again!!! I love seeing the things you put out as well and I can't wait to see what else you come up with, keep up the good work!!!
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thisvisionofmyspirit · 4 months
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one of my favorite sensations in the world is seeing someone live for the first time and realizing how fucking tall they are so let's just say my first sleep token ritual, whenever that is, is going to be An Experience™
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newwave-lesbian · 6 months
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they really did just give me all of the dogshit mental illnesses, huh
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bluejaybytes · 2 months
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Anyways this is Jenna and Maggie to me. Maggie wakes up and realizes she was murdered and Jenna's like damn ! I wonder if they made a Forensic Files episode about you. and then she does not say that
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musubiki · 7 months
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Ok idea for ikasumi bc I love her but what if she has a pet familiar like mochi does and she gets tattoos of them and when she fights she can summon ink versions of them similar to Megumi from JJK or Aki from CSM
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i think if she were to have little friends, it would be the little things she draws and brings to life to keep her company!!! but since shes such a uhhhhh bad artist, her little friends are never anything cool or elegant looking like the familiars, its usually something dumb and decrepit looking like her little friends in this post!! half the time you cant even tell what it is.....mochis like "oh no! a dog monster!" and ikasumi goes "Its a fish."
but yeah her original power inspo is actually sai from naruto!!! i havent watched the series in forever but as a kid i always thought the whole "draw something on a page, bring it to life in the 3d world while it retains its ink-like looks" is so cool...,,.
pre-timeskip while shes doodling in her notebook, her little friends pop to life and hang out around her, walking around on the table and stuff (not at school obviously not to cause trouble, but other places). i also wanna say her little creatures are like the little snowmen on that series ice-guy-and-the-cool-female-colleague where they reflect the emotions she doesnt show herself!!!
(i also wanna say theyre like the soot on spirited away, in the sense that you can like.... "squash" them physically but they just.....re-manifest out of the ink puddle? the only way they get back on the page is if you hit them with something paper, or if ikasumi puts them back in the notebook herself !!!
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