#//It’s how he shows favor to those he likes

[motorsportbarbie13]

The Yapping Hour Is Upon Us - Part 4

In which you escape to paradise with the love of your life.

Warnings: nothing unless you hate happiness. Pairing: Max Verstappen x Podcaster!Reader Word Count: 2.4k

- The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - Part 2 - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - Part 3 - Master List

Phulay Bay, Thailand July, 2025

yourpersonalinsta posted

456,938 likes liked by taylorswift, redbullracing, alexandrasaintmleux, and others. yourpersonalinsta out of office tagged: maxverstappen1 kikagomes omg where are yoooou? >>>yourpersonalinsta thailand! he planned literally everything. all i had to do was show up. user928 max is never beating best boyfie on the grid allegations now redbullracing bring us back a coconut! >>>yourpersonalinsta hahahaha think max can smuggle one out in his backpack??? >>>redbullracing if he tries hard enough, he can do anything!

"Max, where'd you go?" You call, voice echoing out over the empty terrace of the beach villa Max had booked for you two during F1's summer break.

Last year, the two of you had spent a few weeks on a boat off of the Amalfi coast with some of your friends but this year, it was just the two of you. This entire trip had been a complete surprise, Max having planned the entire thing. You had gotten a text one afternoon just a few days into the month long F1 break from Max telling you to pack a bag (heavy on the bikinis and lingerie, as personally requested by your boyfriend) and to be ready to leave the apartment in Monaco in an hour.

You had bustled about, a mix of excitement and anxiety twisting in your chest. To be quite honest, you had been looking forward to having some down time at home, just the two of you. It had only been a few months since you had permanently moved from New York to Monaco and you were far from settled, having spent most of the first half of the year traveling with Max.

The moment Max burst into your shared apartment though, all of your anxieties evaporated into thin air. He had never looked more relaxed than he had that morning, telling you he was taking you on a trip and to not ask any questions. You, of course, dutifully obeyed.

Which was how you found yourself at one of the most private and romantic beach resorts in Thailand, currently looking for your seemingly missing boyfriend. You'd been here for a few days now, soaking in the sand and sun and quiet peacefulness the resort had to offer. Mornings were spent slowly in bed, breakfast often skipped in favor of time spent underneath (or on top of) Max. Afternoons scuttled by slowly, spent under the sun on the beach in your bikini being oogled by Max. And nights were spent together, either in the media room of the villa watching movies or under the stars talking about anything and everything with the man that had completely stolen your heart.

It was in those quiet moments, while you sat snuggled up between Max's legs, back pressed firmly into his chest, on the beach where you were in awe of how much your life had changed in a little over a year. How quickly Max had swooped into you life, into your heart, and never left.

The villa is quiet and empty, you assume that Max has wandered down onto the beach or out near the private pool while you had taken a quick shower before your dinner reservations. Something on the bed catches your eye though and you cross the wooden planked floor to read the note that sits on top of a white linen dress.

My love, I know we had reservations at the resort's resturant tonight but I took the liberty of moving that to some place a little quieter. Put on the dress and meet me out on that little bluff where we always watch the sunset, dinner is waiting. all of the love my soul possesses, Max

Tears prick at your eyes when you finish the note. Laying on the bed is a white linen dress that you had no idea was even in the villa. It's brand new, you'd never even seen it before. The moment you pull it on over your head, you can't help but be impressed. It fits like a dream and when you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, you can't help but smile. The dress is cut perfectly to your figure, the neckline scooping down low to show off an extra bit of clevege and the hem hitting just below your knee. You're not quite sure how Max did it, but the dress fits you like a glove.

Your hair is still a bit damp, but you're eager to find where Max is and what he's up to tonight so you opt for a long braid down your back.

When you step out on the back veranda of the villa, the sun is hanging low in the sky, just above the sparkling blue water that stretches out in front of you. The resort sits on a little bluff overlooking the ocean, romantically tucked into the side of rolling green hills and a lush forest behind you.

Just beyond the edge of the villa's back yard is a little outcropping of land that juts over the beach below. Every night since you had arrived, Max had insisted on making a point to sit on this little private bluff and watch the sun go down. No matter what you were doing or what you had planned that evening, watching the sunset tucked deeply in Max's arms, became a tradition you wanted to continue forever.

The cool grass tickles your bare feet as you cross the lush green lawn. For a moment, you don't even look towards where you know Max is standing because you're so distracted by the crash of the ocean waves and glimmer of the sunset on the water. When you do look over though, you stop in your tracks, pupils blowing wide at the scene before you.

There, right on your little plot of paradise, stands your boyfriend. He's surrounded by what looks like hundreds and hundreds of white hydrangeas arranged in a large circle. Clusters of candles dot the edge of the circle casting a soft glow over the entire scene.

Max stands in the middle of all of this, his hands stuffed deep into the pockets of his khaki shorts. He's wearing the navy linen shirt you bought him for his birthday last year, top few buttons undone at his throat. The breeze off the water tugs a bit at his hair, long from a busy season with little time to stop and get a haircut. The fact that you liked his hair longer also had a lot to do with him refusing to cut it lately, but he'd never admit that to anyone but you.

When Max sees you walk out of the villa for the firs time, he thinks he might just pass out right there. The dress Kika and Alexandra had helped him pick out was the prettiest thing he'd ever seen you wear, besides that navy and red lacy lingerie set you had worn for his birthday last year, of course. He had been planning this for months now, much to Daniel and Lando's surprise. His two friends were the only other people who knew what this entire trip was really about. They had expressed their surprise at the plans since you hadn't even celebrated your one year anniversary when he had set all of this in motion. Max had simply replied with 'when you know you know' and no one had questioned it again.

The red and gold ring box sits heavy in his pocket, his fingers tracing anxious patterns over it's smooth surface. He wasn't nervous about what he was going to do. No, what he was about to do was the most confident and self assured decisions he had ever made. What he was nervous about was you saying no. He wasn't sure if his heart would be able to take a rejection.

Your heart hammers in your chest as you approach Max. Unsure but confident about what's about to happen all at the same time. The conflicting emotions whirl around in your stomach in a hurricane of anxiety and shock.

"Hi baby." Max murmurs as soon as you step into the circle with him. His arms reach for you and to his great relief, you melt into him eagerly.

"Hi." Your voice nothing but breathy whisper. A smile that could power most of Europe shimmers across your face. "What's all this?"

"I know I said we were going to eat dinner out here, but I wanted to talk to you first." Max buries his head in your hair, inhaling the sweet and spicy scent of your shampoo, still lingering in your hair after your shower.

He takes a few moments and you are simply content to enjoy the feeling that settles over you. Outside of this little bluff, nothing else exists and you could stay here for the rest of your life and be completely content.

When Max pulls himself together, he pulls back a little so he can see you without craning his neck. "The moment you smiled at me the first time, my entire world shifted beneath my feet." His voice is rough, Dutch accent becoming more prominent the more emotional he gets. "The first time I kissed you in my drivers room in Miami, I knew I was done. I have never met a kinder, more ambitious, or more confident woman than you. Just being able to exist in your orbit has been the blessing I never knew I needed. I know it hasn't been long but I can't figure out how I ever managed to exist before you and I never want to find out what it feels like to exist after you."

Max pauses then, drawing in a shaky breath. Blood rushes past your ears as your knees threaten to buckle. You had hoped this day would come for you and Max but you had never expected it to be so quickly. Like Max, you had known pretty fast that he was it for you. You had tried to fight the growing feeling that your relationship could work its way into marriage but as you continued to settle further into life with him, you fought the feeling less and less.

He sinks to his knee then and looks up at you, those ice blue eyes that you dream about shining up at you. "I want to see you walk down the aisle towards me in a white dress. I want to see your belly grow when you carry our babies. I want to hear my children call you their mama and I want your babies to call me daddy. I want all of this and an entire lifetime of love with you and only you. Will you give me that, baby? Will you marry me?"

For a moment you're completely unable to breathe. The words Max said to you etched themselves onto your bones, words you'd never forget until your dying day. They were words that were to be written down. Words that your grandchildren would cry over one day when they stumbled upon your old journals in the attic.

Those kinds of things, those words, deserved to live in the universe alone for a bit, they're so powerful. You gave them space and respect, allowing what Max had said to you wash over your body.

"Oh my God. Of course. Yes. Please." You babble, really unable to make your mouth move in the way you want it. All you know is that you had never been so certain about anything in your entire existence.

Max slips the massive rock onto your finger before standing up to his full height. The diamond that winks up at you in dim candlelight is something that could be compared to the iceberg that sunk the titanic. Once the ring is secured on your hand, tonight's second perfect fit, Max catches your chin in his fingers to tip your head up towards him. When he kisses you, lips meeting yours so achingly tender, the entire world goes quiet. Everyone who could have possibly existed simply vanishes.

You stay like that for several moments, caught up in your boyfri- no, not boyfriend, fiance's arms and simply kiss him with every ounce of love you can wring out of your soul. His tongue licks into your mouth, eliciting a kitten like mewl of pleasure from the back of your throat. It's a sweet and tender kiss, soft and celebratory after what's just occurred.

"I love you." You say against his lips when you need a moment to breathe.

"I love you too. More than life, lifeje." Max's hand comes up to frame the side of your face, rubbing his thumb across your swollen bottom lip.

All you can do is stare up at him, pupils blown wide open. "How long have you been planning this? I can't believe you did all this...for me? Just for me?" For someone who has often gone unseen in their own family, being doted on like Max does is sometimes confusing.

"Months. I've had help. Danny and Lando helped decide where and how to do this." You can't help but chuckle at the thought of Daniel and Lando, two of Max's most unserious and unmarried friends, helping him plan a proposal.

"Alexandra and Kika too. They helped with the dress."

Your eyes widen in surprise. "Those two bitches knew and didn't tell me!"

Max tilts his head back and laughs heartily. The sound sends a zing down your spine. "No, although I suspect they might have figured it out. I just told them I was taking you on a surprise date and needed help with an outfit."

"And of course I did all of this for you." Max continues, face turning serious. "I did this all for you because I wanted you to know how important you are to me. How much I need you in my life. You're my everything, baby."

Emotion clogs your throat as you fight to keep the tears from falling. "I can't wait to be your wife, Maxie."

yourpersonalinsta posted

1,293,938 likes liked by kikagomes, yourdad, danielricciardo, and others. yourpersonalinsta girlfriend < fiancé 💍 kikagomes ahhhhhhh congratulations pretty girl!!! you are going to make the most beautiful bride. WAIT OMG, is this why Max had Alex and I help buy that dress????? >>>yourpersonalinsta yes 🤭 love you kiks >>>user928 i'm sorry but am i reading this right? max had alex and kika help buy the dress that he had her wear to her own engagement. idk if i'll ever recover from this. user02938 MOM AND DAD ARE GETTING MARRIED landonorris glad he finally did it so i can stop hearing about how excited he is. >>>yourpersonalinsta love you too, lando >>>landonorris ❤️ maxverstappen1 can't wait to start calling you mrs. verstappen >>>user0283 i cannot be normal about this >>>user0029 i have no one to send this too redbullracing our favorite couple together forever!!! congrats you two (liked by author and maxverstappen1)

tags: @shelbyteller @formulaal @martygraciesversion381 @longhairkoo @samantha-chicago @stelena-klayley

[tomboy014]

But if Batman won't adopt Danny... who will?

Starfire, and she is all over her new little brother!

Shortly after establishing the Teen Titans, Robin (Dick) introduces “Phantom” to the group, because seriously, he’s not introducing him as “Danny.”  Kinda defeats the purpose of a secret identity when you use your name in your superhero moniker.  And shows Phantom his room.

Robin’s actual goal is to get Phantom to join the Titans, but even taking short cuts through the Ghost Zone, Jump City is still a good ways away from Amity Park, and he has parents, so… It’s still a nice gesture and all, and Phantom will come visit, but no.

Still, he’s never met other teens who are heroes in their own right like he is, so he’s excited to meet Robin’s new team.  The other Titans think it’s a little weird for this not-member to have his own room in the Tower, but the place is huge, and Robin trusts him, so it’s fine.  It’s a bit awkward at first as they’re all still getting used to each other, but Phantom quickly makes friends with all of them.

But it’s his friendship with Starfire that grows first and fastest.  As soon as he finds out she’s an alien from another planet, he latches on and must know everything.  Starfire more than welcomes the attention. While she knows the Titans care for her, they’re not always… receptive to the traditions and customs of her culture. Phantom, on the other hand, is enraptured as she tells him about her culture, her holidays, the planets she’s been to, everything.

So she asks if he’d be interested in learning Tamaranean? Yes! 100%! Absolutely! Phantom picks up the language quickly and returns the favor by helping Starfire with her English. While the ability to absorb language through lips is handy, it’s by no means perfect, and Phantom helps her with things like contractions, slang, idioms, etc.

It also helps that after a couple sparring sessions with each other, Phantom and Starfire realize just how durable their partner is.  For Starfire, the people and things on Earth can be so delicate. And for Phantom, if he doesn’t watch himself and hurts a human too badly, it’s just more justification to call him an “evil ghost” that should be ripped apart molecule by molecule. Both are thrilled to finally be able to fight all out again without worrying about the consequences if they lose. And Starfire also uses it to teach Phantom some Tamaranean martial arts for aerial combat so maybe he’ll stop crashing into so many walls.

But what really changes the relationship is the Body Swap incident (not to be confused with the Freaky Friday incident). Similar to what happened with the Puppet King in Switched, Phantom and Starfire switch bodies while fighting an enemy.  Unlike what happened in Switched, Phantom and Starfire and two teen powerhouses with green energy powers triggered by emotions. And the emotional triggers they use are in the same ballpark. Starfire’s “unbridled joy of flight” to fly is very similar to how Phantom revels in the pure freedom of flight he feels. Both get angry when they use blasts. It’s very much a “if you believe in it, you can do it” kind of power set. Starfire can’t really figure out Phantom’s more ghostly abilities like invisibility or intangibility, but they very quickly adapt to each other’s shared powers on the fly during battle.  But there’s one power Starfire wants to use against the hordes of minions that Phantom won’t share the trigger for: the Ghostly Wail.  He tries to tell her it’s not a good move, that it’ll use up too much power, it should only be used as a last resort, it’ll cause too much collateral damage, etc., but Starfire wants to know, and eventually he tells her.

“T-terror… and desperation.”

Starfire rushes to give Phantom the biggest hug ever because those are such horrible feelings, and she doesn’t want to imagine what conditions must have led to him developing such a power because no one should have to feel such feelings. He is right; and that is not a power she needs to use to win this battle.  The minions are defeated, the villain is forced into a temporary retreat, and the Teen Titans return to the Tower to regroup and plan.

However, Starfire doesn’t know how to power through and hold onto Phantom’s ghostly form, and as soon as the adrenaline from the fight wears off, rings of white light spread out of her middle, and Phantom turns back into Danny in the middle of the living room.

But more importantly, everyone needs to get out of the way RIGHT NOW because while Phantom can ignore his biological needs for days, Danny can’t, and Starfire has never had to pee this badly ever in her whole life and everyone needs to MOVE, PLEASE! as she rushes into the nearest bathroom.

Phantom/Danny is now panicking, because even as an alien, he’s pretty sure she’s bound to notice that some bits of male anatomy that should be there are… missing.  He’s begging her, through the door in Tamaranean, not to tell anyone about his secret.  He’s not ready to come out yet, and he’s honestly pretty scared he’s about to lose her friendship, too.  Starfire doesn’t really care. So long as you’re a strong warrior, Tamaraneans don’t care what’s going on in someone’s pants, and she’s just relieved she didn’t have to figure out different plumbing while in his body.  Starfire opens the door.  While she knows that the people of Earth are not always as understanding, Danny need not fear her.  She will not tell anyone he's trans until he is ready to tell them himself and supports him and goes in for a hug.

Except you haven’t washed your hands; gross!  They both laugh it off, but when Starfire goes to wash her hands, the water freezes.  The cold energy in Danny’s core is building, and Starfire doesn’t know how to let it out.  They need to switch back to their own bodies soon, or Danny’s body, and Starfire, might not survive.  A little more training so Starfire can turn back into Phantom, and the Titans are ready for the final act, take down the final villain and Starfire and Phantom are back in their own bodies. 

But after that, Phantom is no longer Starfire’s friend.  Danny is her little brother, and she tells him her name is Koriand’r, or Kor’i for short.

<<Prev

[saltymarshmall0w]

YOU ARE SO RIGHT, THANK YOU

Danny didn’t even get an honest chance to cheat or not cheat. Even being handed the test answers thanks to Clockwork’s intervention, Sam and Tucker nearly wore him down into not cheating. I find it hard to believe in the “Dan” timeline Danny would have still cheated with his friends hounding him to do the right thing.

Even if he was trying to help in some fucked up way---Vlad experimented on the grieving kid under his care. Unknowingly by Phantom’s reaction. Phantom only returned the favor and likely didn’t know attempting to possess(?) Plasmius would result in his evil side taking over.

Regardless of if Danny's entire family was dead or not, Dan could have been created either way.

Dan is as much Danny’s future self as he is Vlad’s future self!

Dan even turned around and immediately killed Fenton. He also couldn't care in the slightest when he saw Sam and Tucker alive again and went so far as to ensure the accident happened again. Those don't seem like the actions of a person driven to evil by his grief.

Fenton was killed(?) by Dan immediately but Vlad was left alone. That just goes to show it was Plasmius in control, as he had no reason to do that.

Next, Nasty Burger should not have a sauce that explodes at high temperatures. A single sauce packet nearly leveled the building. It’s a miracle no one hasn’t blown up their house by reheating leftovers

Also, there was a manager character who preached about how dangerous the sauce was. Why didn’t he or the owner of the building even LOOK to see if the sauce was being exposed to heat? 

Next, a meeting about a student’s academics between the vice principal and parents should take place in a private office. Not in front of a building where there was an explosion just days ago just so Lancer could make a fucked-up point about how awful being a Nasty Burger employee is.

Who’s to say Danny wouldn’t have gotten in just as much hot water in the first place for being honest and coming forward about having the answers anyway? Lancer still could have met with his parents and made the point at the Nasty Burger.

All this to say, Corporate greed is the real bad guy at the end of the day and Clockwork is a child groomer at best and a villain at worst.

He was entirely responsible for Danny getting the test answers in the first place then everything that happened afterward.

Sure, maybe Danny would have turned into Dan, but who’s to say Clockwork didn’t make it all up to influence Danny a certain way and gain control of watching out for his fate?

He literally made Danny watch his family+friends die for no reason, he could have intervened three seconds sooner.

hey can we talk about how fucking insane it is that the whole 'evil future self' debacle got pinned on danny cheating on a test

can we talk about how danny came away from that genuinely believing that it was cheating on a test that had made him evil, as if it were any more than just. the reason they were all at the nasty burger that day

can we talk about how sam and tucker also seemed to think that and how we, the viewers, also were apparently supposed to believe it

because uhhhh

the whole idea is. ridiculous. and someone needs to gently tell danny so pleaseandthankyou

[itsabouttimex2]

Eclipse Kings

Part Three: Wild Dawn

(Part One: Mountain Monkeys) (Part Two: Barbed Dusk) (Part Three: You Are Here)

(Extra One)

For almost all his life, Sun Wukong had never really known “want”, not for more than the few moments it took to decide he was going to pursue some fleeting and new desire.

The land itself seemed to conspire to his favor- he was borne to a thriving mountain of surplus and luxury, sparkling stream racing down each hill, bountiful orchards with boughs so heavy they dipper near to the earth. Even the horizon was generous, spanning sunrises to color his every lavish breakfast and hosting a banner of glittering stars to lull him to sleep.

He wanted for nothing, because when the world would not bend to his whims, he simply bent it himself- to the end result of power, luxury, and adoration.

His life was fraught with the inevitable turning of blades, stuffed full of motion, conflict, and inevitable triumph. His troop grew by the year, Flower Fruit Mountain knew nothing of suffering, and his treasury was brimming with relics.

A demon crowned eternal king of a flourishing mountain, untouchable and immovable.

What more could a monkey want?

Company, as it turned out. The varied little simians scattered all through the trees and bushes of his mountain were wonderful, of course- he cherished them all like his own children, and doted on each and every one of the little menaces.

But he still wanted more.

—-——————————————————————

“That, little mortal, is when I joined my Sworn Brotherhood!”

The Great Sage Equal to Heaven smiles warmly at his recited memories, claws lightly sifting through a large collection of traditional clothing.

“We were going to lead a siege on that stuck-up realm of Celestials, but my darling moonbeam had an even better idea- why not start our own kingdoms? Instead of teaching those stuffy old fools how to respect us, we could just show them up and take all their little worshipping mortals away!”

You don’t say a word in turn, still bundled up in a fluffy towel, sitting on the nearest chair, idly watching through blank eyes. Since you hadn’t been willing to walk or respond, Wukong had scooped you up with a sigh and hurried off to his and Macaque’s shared changing room, given permission to pick out some old clothes of theirs to give you.

“Of course, all of the stuff that was supposed to be boring was, uh… a total mess. Y’know, like deciding on territories, drawing borders, figuring out taxes—ugh. Mortals do not like taxes. Sure like ‘em better than being eaten by demons, though.” He chuckles at his own words, shaking his head as if to dismiss the unpleasant memories of bureaucracy. Wukong pulls out a black ceremonial robe embroidered with purple thread and holds it up against you, squinting as if he’s considering how it might look.

“…no. My sweet moon wouldn’t like you wearing this.”

“…s’it “too nice” for me?”

“…you mortals really aren’t the best with self-esteem, are you? No, little villager- it’s because he wore something like this when we were married. After that, he started commissioning seamstresses to make him more clothes like that robe… the actual thing is framed in a glass box over our bed. I don’t understand why Mac wanted that, but I can’t ever say no to him…”

Wukong’s voice trails off, tone softening as his gaze drifted to the ceiling. A smile plays on his lips, barely restrained, as he’s replaying his dearest memory of Macaque on repeat. You shift uncomfortably, unsure how to respond, the weight of his affection for his moonlit partner pressing against the silence.

He breaks it himself, but only after walking across the room and popping open lacquered wood chest, breaking the preserving sigil printed across it .

“You know,” says the king, his claws tapping the gleaming pauldron of gold within, “I wore this when we got married.”

He turns to the side, catches the fact that you’ve perked up even a little, and continues.

“It was the nicest thing I owned at the time- most of my outfits were skinned animals and stolen rags. This is something my brothers had given me, so it was the nicest thing I had that wasn’t my staff.”

Wukong’s fingers linger on the golden armor, tone rich with an ancient nostalgia. “I wasn’t one for fancy clothes back then- still coming around to it now- but I was even worse with it back then. I wanted to go in my tiger skirt and my old boots! But my brothers? Oh, they insisted: “You’re getting married- you can’t just show up looking like a bandit on your wedding day!” So they gave me this, and a nice red robe with a ton of silly characters embroidered into it- it’s framed right next to my mate’s robe, now.”

Say something. You need to say something. You can’t just mumble and mutter if you want to stay in a king’s good graces, can you?

“…do you… remember your vows?”

He perks with a smile, intrigued by the random question, entirely missing how dangerously close you are to cracking.

“Well, if that’s want you want to know, how about I tell you about the whole ceremony? Here, I’ll lay out how it went…”

——————————————————————

Macaque shuffles in place for a moment, old meekness returning to him- his hands twitch, and the notes smoothly inked onto the sleeve of his silk robe catch in the light, drawing his aureate eyes downwards. The crowd all around is nervous mortals and drunk demons, dressed in red or black or gold, held at peace mostly by his eager “brothers”. On Azure’s lap and shoulders are several children, more interested in his blade and snout than the ceremony. He’s smiling, more at ease than any other here.

The others for the most part are doing alright. Peng is preoccupied with their drink, casually allowing themselves to be marveled at by a blacksmith and a jeweler- though neither are allowed to touch, both mortals are fervently etching the gilded designs into their paper scrolls. The avian flaps those glimmering wings on occasion, causing streaks of light to flash over the modest venue, catching across the polished tiles.

Yellowtusk sits on a carved stone chair, marking the attendants in a neat ledger, made oversized to fit his hands. Several troops of Long-Tailed and Crab-Eating Macaques play on his trunk and tusks, their little fingers deftly taking hold in the cracks of his thick skin to ascend it. They don’t ever distract him for more than a few seconds, even when the youngest cubs forget their manners and start chirping in his ears.

The largest of their Brotherhood stands at attention in the doorway, toying with the straps of his battle axe. His face is painted with a rarely seen apprehension, looking back and forth over the room on occasion. Sometimes his gaze stills on a veil-shrouded woman with painted lips, and then he smiles for a moment.

The Demon Bull King is not nearly as subtle of a man as he thinks.

Not that it matters- when, for all that (which is very much) his Sworn Brothers know he’s courting a Celestial Maiden, they’ve chosen to keep an oath of silence on the matter.

(“He’s our big guy,” as Wukong had put it during one meeting months ago. “And we want that goofball to be happy.”)

(All of them- even Peng- had toasted to that notion, in the general direction of the bull’s empty chair.)

The mortals are safe. His brothers are content. He can do this.

Once more the dried notes on his sleeve catch Macaque’s attention, snapping him from the venue and to his golden love.

One last time he goes over them, dedicating those practiced words to memory.

He takes a breath, and turns to the audience.

“My mate-to-be is… molten gold, kissed by the rising sun. Beautiful is a shallow word to describe him- he is a masterpiece, a divine work of art carved by the heavens themselves. His eyes hold the all the world’s fire within them, blazing with the brilliance of a thousand sunsets. His laughter is a hymn to freedom itself, a melody I pray to hear every day for the rest of my life. When I look at him, I don’t just see a king, but the very heart of my existence, the axis upon which my world turns. He is my sun, my storm, my sanctuary, my everything.”

Several of the softer mortals are touched by his speech, lifting their cotton sleeves to the very corners of their eyes. Others only lightly clap, still uncomfortable at being called to the union.

Macaque does not have time to look away from before Wukong’s ginger-furred paws clasp onto his shoulders, holding tight.

There are no notes, no hours of reciting, no time spent with helpful Sworn Brothers to listen and offer advice, no matter how snarky- Sun Wukong simply turns from the crowd and offers himself.

“Macaque… I love you. I want you to be my mate forever. Until the sun goes dark.” Wukong's tail flicks behind him, expression softening with a rare blush. "Because... you're part of my story, bud. You’ve always been a part of it. And I'm tired of pretending like I can write the rest of it without you. Be mine forever and let’s be mates.”

The world is blurry, at least to Macaque. Nine and a half seconds prior he had thought there’d be some disappointment to push through, delivered an insincere joke or a vow written by another’s hand.

But there was only been Sun Wukong, love of his life, smiling at him.

“I will be your mate,” he chokes out, “forever. Until the sun goes dark.”

——————————————————————

“We’ve never been apart since then,” he purrs, dragging one claw over a hanfu the color of a sky on a gentle morning, toying with the white sash to untie it. “Not even for a day.”

Before you have a chance to respond, he plucks up the garment and holds it out to you. The size difference between him and the outfit is comical, and you wonder why these two demon kings have it in the first place.

“This should fit you, bud! Here, let’s get that towel off-“

You scream.

It’s not particularly loud or long, or even desperate- but it’s a scream all the same.

Worse still for yourself, you take this hysteric moment to lay on some shaky remand.

“NO! No more! Just stop touching me! I don’t- I d-don’t like it! You’re- you’re twice my size and you keep- you and him are always getting in my face and- a-and putting your hands on me, and I- I’m am so, so sick of it! I am not an o-object! I am a person! I am a person! I-“

“Quiet. Now.”

Wukong’s golden eyes narrow as he stands there, the weight of his presence pressing down on the room like a thundercloud ready to burst. His tail flicks sharply, but his voice remains measured.

…there are tears rolling down your eyes now, lost in the fluffy expanse of the towel around your body, sopping uselessly away as the king takes two footsteps to your form, frowning.

Not that it does anything to settle the rapid beat of your heart, crushed by the newly oppressive atmosphere.

“…you’re scared. I understand that. And maybe my moonbeam and I, we’ve been a little too hands on. That’s on us. But this my pagoda, and I did not build it by hand so that a little guest could yell at me. You know that you’re not a prisoner here. The doors aren’t locked, and there aren’t guards stationed outside them… now. I’ll let you get dressed- alone- and then you can eat. And…

“And no more touching without your permission. Okay?”

“…m’sorry. F-for yelling.”

“…I’m not mad,” he lies, one hand shifting to condescendingly pat you on the head. “I forget- my brothers, and my mate, too- we yaoguai just aren’t the same as mortals. You little things are scared too easily, and break so quickly.”

Something about hearing that is humiliating, but you don’t dare argue with him. Instead, you hunch your shoulders and cling to the towel, sniveling down at the floor.

Wukong’s frown softens the longer he watches you cry, all the sharpest edges of his irritation melting away into something closer to pity.

“I’ll leave it here. Call if you get lost looking for the kitchen.”

His words are painfully curt, and then the king is gone, golden beads and silk robes swishing behind him with each step.

You were never close, and only ever tangentially in the “good graces” of these kings. It’s not like you’ve shattered some precious bond.

But you still feel bad.

You wouldn’t, not usually. But as you unwrap the towel and begin to dress yourself in the lovely hanfu left draped over the chair nearest to you, the aches and pains of yesterday’s chase down the mountain weigh on you, just as MK’s new identity and newer happiness strike a deep point of insecurity- that you simply weren’t good enough to take care of him.

You weren’t good enough to provide for him anymore.

You wanted to believe you were more than them- strong enough to survive on your own, to fight your way through the world with MK in tow. But the truth was harder to face: Sun Wukong and the Six-Eared Macaque were meteoric gods, and you were just a mortal caught in the tides of their myth.

And where MK was thriving in this ecliptic chaos, you instead were already cracking under pressure after only a day spent before the kings.

…there’s a lovely silk pouch, dyed the color of new lavender blooms, hanging from the hanfu- you only notice it after tying the sash into a decent bow. The soft texture grounds your tumultuous thoughts, and a powerful aroma steadily drifts from within.

You fiddle with the tie and open the sash, revealing a dried bundle of orange blossoms tightly tied together, each stem marked with a glittering mystic sigil- 提高.

Whatever scent they would’ve had already was amplified by the marking, causing a heavy flow of fresh floral scent to ooze from the little purse.

You lift it and take a deep breath from the bag, allowing the veil of citrus aroma to utterly cloud your mind, providing it a much needed fog to rest under.

The soothing haze is slow to fade, even after you’ve pulled away and sealed the bag, but eventually you are left with only your steadied thoughts in the ornate chamber, amongst fine silks and polished wood, treasures of centuries past hung casually about It’s beautiful—almost too much so.

A reminder that this world of theirs is not the same of yours.

But you would not stop trying to survive in it.

You couldn’t.

[valkyrieromanoff]

God bless your dad's genetics… Dilf! Anakin x son’s girlfriend!reader

synopsis: when your best friend Luke asks you to pose as his girlfriend during his parents' 25th wedding anniversary cruise, you reluctantly agree. After all, you're single, he's desperate, and who can say no to an all-expenses-paid getaway? But what starts as a simple favor spirals into a tangled web of awkward introductions, suspicious relatives, and one undeniable complication: your growing, utterly inappropriate crush on Luke’s father, Anakin. Surrounded by the charming and chaotic Skywalker family, you’re forced to navigate the tricky waters of pretense, loyalty, and a passion you never saw coming.

warning: age gap (Anakin is 44 years old and the reader is in her early 20s), cheating, alternate universe, that's it for now, I'll add more warnings when the next chapters come out.

words: 1.1k

a/n: I confess that I've had this idea marinating for a while, and now seeing the latest photos of Hayden at comic-con, he's so dad coded. So, I decided to take a chance and start a story, I don't know how many chapters there will be yet, but I'm excited to see where it will take us... Slightly inspired by Fuck your boyfriend('s dad) by forcemeanakin, I'm obsessed with her writing… Anyway, that's it, I hope you like it ;)

CHAPTER ONE: CRUISE

you were meant for me to find

it's out of my hands

there's nothing left to do but

cruise and just enjoy the ride

“Wait a second, let me get this straight…” you interrupted Luke, raising your hands to halt his rapid-fire explanation. He’d been talking non-stop for nearly five minutes, and you were still struggling to piece it all together. “You want me to pretend to be your girlfriend at your parents’ 25th wedding anniversary? Why on earth do you even need a fake girlfriend?” You adjusted yourself on the bed, pulling a pillow against your chest for comfort, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Luke let out a long, dramatic sigh, raking a hand through his messy blond hair. “You know how my parents are… always in my business. And now with Leia bringing her boyfriend, I just don’t want to be the only one showing up alone.” He looked at you with those pleading puppy-dog eyes, his voice softening. “Come on, just this once. Please? Didn’t you say you wanted to go on a cruise someday? Here’s your chance.”

You arched an amused eyebrow. “So, what—you’re trying to bribe me now?”

Luke shifted uncomfortably, fiddling with a loose thread on his jacket. “Well, when you put it like that…” he muttered sheepishly. “Look, I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important. I—I trust you, okay? You’re the only person I can count on for this.”

His desperation was hard to ignore. You exhaled slowly, shaking your head. “Fine, I’ll do it,” you said, a reluctant smile tugging at your lips. “But only because of the all-inclusive package. Don’t think this means I approve of your ridiculous plan.”

A grin split across Luke’s face as he lunged forward to hug you. “Thank you! Seriously, you’re saving my life here.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you muttered, pushing him back playfully. “But if this backfires, you owe me big time.”

Luke hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. “Right, um… about that. I might have already put your name on the guest list.” 

Your eyes narrowed as you shoved his shoulder. “You what? Idiot.”

---

Now, a few days later, you found yourself standing on the pier, the midday sun beating down mercilessly. You checked your phone for the third time, scrolling through messages with a faint scowl. Still no word from Luke. If he left you waiting much longer, you were seriously going to kill him.

“Hey!” His voice cut through the buzz of the crowded dock. You turned to see him jogging toward you, a backpack slung casually over one shoulder. He looked a little too cheerful for someone who had left you baking in the sun.

“You’re late,” you called, crossing your arms as he approached. 

“Fashionably,” he quipped with a smirk, completely unbothered by your glare.

“thought you’d forgotten about me,” you teased, elbowing Luke lightly in the chest as he finally reached you.

Luke shrugged, offering a sheepish grin. “Blame my parents. They were running late because my dad accidentally packed the wrong suitcase for my mom. Total chaos—everyone was scrambling to fix it.”

You chuckled, imagining the scene. Though you hadn’t met Luke’s family yet, you’d heard plenty about them over the years. His parents were something of a legend in his stories: the perfect, if sometimes chaotic, couple who’d married young and raised twins.  

Padmé Amidala, Luke’s mother, was a force of nature. A federal deputy and professor of International Relations, she somehow juggled her demanding career with being a devoted wife and mother. Strong, brilliant, and endlessly busy, yet always managing to prioritize her family.

Anakin Skywalker, Luke’s father, was no less impressive. A retired army general, he’d left his military career after the twins were born to focus on raising them. Luke often spoke of how his dad spent hours tinkering in their garage, restoring vintage cars and building gadgets—a far cry from his days in uniform.

“Come on, let’s get moving,” Luke said, snapping you out of your thoughts. He grabbed the handle of his own suitcase and motioned toward the massive cruise ship docked ahead. 

You followed, letting him lead the way. The pier was packed with elegantly dressed guests, most of whom were likely Padmé’s colleagues—senators, representatives, and a mix of politicians from all corners. The line to board snaked back farther than you could see. 

“Do we really have to wait through all this?” you asked, eyeing the crowd and clutching the handle of your wheeled suitcase. 

Luke shot you a sly grin. “We don’t wait in lines.”

Before you could ask what he meant, he veered off toward the front of the queue, guiding you toward a set of stairs reserved for VIPs. You followed, struggling a little as your suitcase bumped against the steps. 

"Luke, get your girlfriend's suitcase," a strong, masculine voice called out from behind you, deep and commanding yet tinged with warmth. "Otherwise, she'll think I didn’t teach you how to be a gentleman."

Startled, you turned toward the source of the voice just as Luke, already at the top of the stairs, groaned in exasperation. He glanced back with a tired expression but made no move to help. 

“It’s okay, really, it’s not heavy,” you mumbled shyly, gripping the handle of your suitcase a little tighter. But as your eyes met the man addressing Luke, the words caught in your throat. 

Your lips parted slightly in disbelief. Gods… what a man. 

Standing before you was, without a doubt, the most stunning man you’d ever seen. Anakin Skywalker. His angular face was framed by sandy blond hair, slightly tousled with subtle waves that gave him a rugged charm. His piercing blue eyes—so vivid and expressive they seemed to pull you into a storm—were framed by faint lines that hinted at years of experience and a life well-lived. His presence was magnetic, his confident stance and the faint smirk on his lips radiating an almost effortless allure.  

“Come on, I insist,” Anakin said, his voice softening as he stepped closer. He reached out and gently took the suitcase from your hand before you could protest. His touch lingered just briefly, and the warmth of his hand sent a flicker of heat up your arm. “Not heavy, huh?” he teased with a wink, his tone laced with amusement.  

You managed a weak nod, your heart racing as you watched him carry your suitcase up the stairs with ease. Every movement was graceful, effortless, as though he hadn’t spent years off the battlefield but still carried himself like he could command a room—or a galaxy. 

Luke rolled his eyes at his father’s display, muttering under his breath. “Show off.”

Ignoring him, Anakin reached the top of the stairs and set your suitcase down carefully before glancing back at you with an easy smile. “Welcome aboard,” he said, his voice warm and inviting.  

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to keep your expression neutral, but your mind was racing. What the hell have you just gotten yourself into?

[creative1writings]

Chapter 2: In the Light of a New Day

Summary: You start to warm up to Gojo and he takes you shopping, Megumi joining, making the day one of bonding.

Color: Gojo, fem!reader, Megumi.

Warnings: none really, maybe illusion to death.

A/n: sorry this chapter is short and a little rushed. I hope you enjoy it!

Chapter I

You finally built up the courage to ask Gojo if you could decorate your room, not having spoken to him much, he took this as a big step in the right direction.

'Of course we can, I was the one to offer it like awhile ago.'

Gojo joked gently. He beams at you when you give him a sheepish smile.

'Yeah, I know but with everything.. it was hard, I guess'

Gojo felt the hope grow, you were opening up, even though small he didn't let that stop him from feeling like things were going to be different and for once not in a bad way.

'Well what would you like to get first?'

Gojo asked, eyes scanning your face as you scrunch it up slightly, in thought, he couldn't help but see a glimpse of his lost friend etched in there, heart growing warm.

'Maybe some new bed sheets and more pillows.. some stuffed animals'

The last part of that sentence was uttered out in a soft tone, embarrassed about wanting stuffed animals at your age, face going a soft shade of pink when Gojo chuckled, asking you to repeat that last part as he didn't catch it.

'.. stuffed animals'

You said louder, face deepening in color, gaze finding residence on the carpet below your feet, Gojo only smiled softly at you before responding.

'Of course, I know the perfect store for all things cozy.'

Gojo chuckled lightly, not to poke fun (for once), but in hopes to lighten the mood, to make you feel more comfortable. You nod gently, smiling, one that didn't reveal any teeth but one that showed how soft you really were. Megumi's face appeared from around the corner.

'Can I come?'

He asked coming into view placing him self next to you, shoulders knocking into each other gently, a small smile appearing on your face as you look up at him gently. Gojo watching the interaction couldn't help but smile only nodding in response to Megumi.

Once at the store Gojo led all of you to the area he thought you would like, his long legs naturally pulling him forward ahead of you two, as you and Megumi chatter about a movie that you guys should watch when you get back home. Gojo putting his input here and there, the conversation carries over to what you wanted to do to your room, giving them a list of things you had in mind, both men listening intently, soft smiles adorning both their faces as you ramble on about your vision for the room, happy to see you not so sad anymore, making their hearts feel full.

At the end of the trip, the cart was so full they almost had to get a second one. Both men had put things in the cart after they had an idea of what direction your room was going in, hoping their input would make you smile. Once everything was packed away into the car Gojo took you all to a restaurant you favored, as you sat and ate, jokes were exchanged across the table, light hearted conversation and random words were also a part of those exchanges, you and megumi deep in conspiracy now on the what the latest movie you two watched was really about. Gojo listening in gently watching the interaction, he was filled to the brim with hope, that everything for the first time in a long time was going to be okay.

[finchly-tintinnabulation]

- Scout's Honor - Part 4

Original Ultramarine (Aristaeus) x GN!Reader

<<Prev = Next>>

Tags: SMUT, fluff, cuddling, intercrural sex, reader being affected by bond nonsense, Aristaeus is a big virgin be nice to him

Thank you to @candyswirls for the cuddling headcanons, @cosmic-cryptid-from-beyond for reminding me why Aristaeus has big brown eyes like a baby cow, and @daily-shenanigans784 for the beta read WE FUCK 4 MACRAGGE

The Chorus: @thisuserislilsilly

- - -

Your hand flew to the side of your neck, the low ache of the mark stinging anew as your face grew hot. Were there details you had missed, or more likely were omitted for the sake of a professional documentation?

“Come on, you absolutely reek of him.” Diomedes teased, but there was a gentleness in his tone, especially with how alarmed you looked. It was clear enough that you and the Astartes had been given different levels of information about their unusual bodily processes. “I’m sure he’s absolutely dying for you to return the favor. At the very least I’ve heard it can help with a… temporary lack of proximity.”

You smelled stressed. Something clicked into place remembering Aristaeus’s concern. The Astartes had incredibly enhanced sensory capability, being able to track a scent like a bloodhound across a burning battlefield, and read emotions by the subtle cues of baseline hormones. Oddly enough it made sense that the intensely instinctual nature of a bond would be so tied to those primal senses.

“Chin up, Brother! We can show your little human how to make a proper nest, they’re going to be part of the squadron anyway.” Reaching across the table to where Aristaeus sat with his face in his hands, Pallas patted him on the shoulder. Hilariously his ears were flushed as pink as your face felt, and you bit your tongue before accidentally embarrassing him further.

-

Staying alert was a vicious fight that you were rapidly losing, the contentment of being enveloped by warm bodies irresistibly washing over you. The life of a serf was hard labor and strictly rationed rest, so you had little hope of resisting the lure of an afternoon nap. Once finishing lunch, Diomedes had wasted no time dragging Aristaeus off to your now shared room while Pallas went to fetch materials; an armful of well worn blankets and threadbare cushions all in the same Ultramarine blue. It wasn’t hard to imagine generations of neophytes being comforted by these simple amenities

Pulling out your little mattress, the two scouts cheerfully began constructing the nest, something they had been taught to comfort each other. Even without a bond, rut made the Astartes clingy, so they had been instructed to keep their squadmates close. Speaking of clingy, while Aristaeus had resigned himself to Pallas and Diomedes and their help, he sat on his cot and watched them work, keeping you cradled defensively in his lap.

That was where you stayed, even once all three Astartes had settled themself in their pile of soft things, with your head tucked under Aristaeus’s chin and his squadmates snuggled up against either side of him. There was absolutely no hope of escaping with an assortment of enormous arms and legs wrapped around you, but what was the point when it was so very comfortable. All three scouts let out low rumbling vocalizations, something you now recognized as analogous to purring, turning your nerves and thoughts to white noise.

Eyelids heavy, a drowsy sense of curiosity had you shifting slightly, burying your face in the sinewy crook of Aristaeus’s neck. You had nowhere near the senses of an Astartes, but the hind-brained thought of your mate’s scent had you breathing him in. The chemical smell of his enhanced physiology hit your nose like ozone, but it was only for a moment before being superseded by something more warm and sweet, spices and musk and smoke. Somehow you didn’t mind the odd metallic aftertaste of it, knowing it was him.

Is this what he had marked you with? Besides the physical bites, of course. Some signal that you were his, and… you wanted others to know Aristaeus was yours, as well. You hummed, nuzzling against where you could feel the thrum of his hearts pulsing through his carotid artery, his purr trilling as you pressed your lips to it.

Marking him. Without a second thought you sank your teeth into his skin, sucking at his flesh to taste the honeyed tang of his pheromones. Warm and blissful, your mouth tingling as a whine slipped from Aristaeus’s throat, faintly feeling something pressed against your backside. 

“Get out. Both of you, out.” Aristaeus muttered hoarsely, his voice a pleasant buzz to your ears. It took a moment once the enveloping warmth subsided that you seemed to properly rouse, realizing that Pallas and Diomedes were standing and Aristaeus’s purr had become a growl. Had you fallen asleep? It certainly felt like you were awakening from a nap.

“We were getting comfortable, what’s—”

“I said out.” Oh dear.

There was no more arguing as the two scouts hurriedly took their leave, shutting the door behind them, and you finally registered the feeling of embarrassment. You’d seriously just bitten him. Were you about to be punished?

“Sorry…” Aristaeus whined in your ear, and suddenly his bid for privacy took on a much different meaning. What had been pressing against your rear was now rubbing, the marine’s hips twitching as if trying and failing to keep still.

“Uh. What for?” You replied dumbly as the hands that had been wrapped around your torso slid down to grip your hips. You may have had an inkling of what he was apologizing for, and you turned to try and get a better view of his face.

“...I need—” His words were bitten off by a whine as he forcibly tried to loosen his hold on you, face flushed and eyes squeezed shut. “You are so small, I was warned of… harming you. I can’t do it, I’m bigger than you, I don’t know how to—” Never in your life did you think you’d hear a space marine sound scared, but Aristaeus was downright afraid, his deep voice so unsure.

“Oh, Ari.” What sort of sex ed did they give the Adeptus Astartes? Whatever crash course Aristaeus had been absorbed clearly hadn’t prepared him for the act of intercourse, and that was even more disastrous when the poor scout was so immediately needy. Internal damage was also not on your schedule for today, so you tried to think quickly. “...You know you don’t have to go inside, right?”

“I don’t?” Right, so that’s a no. Gently you brushed his hands off your hips, to which he hesitantly obliged, hooking your thumbs into the waistband of your trousers and shimmying them down, trying to ignore the choking whimper Aristaeus let out at the sight.

“Between my thighs should provide enough friction. Since you seem to… like them?” You chuckled shyly recalling your first meeting, kicking off your pants and undergarments in one go and shifting off his lap. “Let’s… lay on your side, please.”

“Emperor forgive me.” Aristaeus’s voice was small and harsh, but again he did as he was told, shifting down in the nest and waiting as patiently as he physically could for your next move. Carefully you lay in front of him, not quite slotting yourself against him yet but feeling his body heat radiating against your bare backside.

“...Pull your pants down.” Your voice cracked, feeling him move before you finished your sentence and subsequently punctuating it with something hot and hard slapping against the small of your back. Hands shaking, you tugged the hem of your tunic up and out of the way, lifting your knee by way of invitation for him to… arrange himself.

Hot and heavy, Aristaeus slid himself between your thighs, hovering there for an unbearable moment before pressing you to his body. He was already leaking, dripping thick clear precum onto your skin, the tip flushed so red it seemed to glow with heat. His cock pulsed and he shuddered, as if overwhelmed by the mere touch of your skin, moaning as he pressed his face into your hair.

“Nnh… oh, by the Light…”

Neither of you needed any more encouragement as you squeezed your legs around his shaft, shifting your hips to grind against it, your own arousal growing rapidly. Aristaeus mirrored your movements, small and slow and a bit nervous, following your lead. Back and forth, gauging a rhythm as his leaking tip began to make the space between your thighs slick, gliding like silk. He thrusted forward as you pushed back, your breaths growing heavy in tandem.

That wetness combined with a briefly found tempo finally bore fruit, as the lewd smack of skin on skin met your ears, and Aristaeus was pushed past his anxiety to pure unadulterated need. Gasping, his arms tightened around you like a vice as his hips slammed forward, relentlessly pistoning as a torrent of cries and broken prayers spilled from his throat.

His lips found the junction of your neck again, but instead of his teeth the touch was his soft heated mouth, sloppy ministrations hardly silencing his pleas. The slapping of his hips to yours was growing almost deafening, thrusting so hard it practically knocked the breath from your lungs, struggling to get enough air between that and the fierce hold he had around your chest. The force and friction made your head spin, relentlessly humping up against your groin.

Drooling against your nape, Aristaeus’s words dissolved into a cacophony of pants and groans, his pace lost in favor of desperation. Breathless and dizzy, you barely had time to recognize how close he was, subsequently realizing the mess you were both about to make. You clumsily grabbed a blanket, attempting to cover your crotch just as Aristaeus tipped over the edge with shuddering wail.

Flushed and with your hands covered in spend, you felt struck dumb as stillness suddenly fell over you, the only sound being the shared ragged breathing of you and your mate. Warm, listening to the faint buzz of the machinery tucked into the fortress-monastery’s walls, just breathing.

A large hand gently gripped your shoulder, turning you gently to see Aristaeus looking at you with those big concerned brown eyes. Then, cupping your face, he kissed you. Soft and thankful.

[rebelliousstories]

Shark Week

Relationship: Remy LeBeau/Gambit x Reader

Fandom: X-Men

Request: Yes by Anon

Warnings: Fluff, Mentions of Insecurities

Word Count: 1,015

Main Masterlist: Here

X-Men Masterlist: Here

Summary: It is the start of shark week for her. No, not like that.

It was the most wonderful time of the year. No, it was not Christmas. Far from it actually. It was the middle of July, but it was the best time of year according to a certain someone. That certain someone that dragged Remy into her shenanigans no matter how sharky they got.

Yes, it was finally time. It was shark week. The entire school knew what the next seven days entailed. She was not leaving her room for anything other than necessities, and she would be making her boyfriend watch it with her. But Remy did not complain. In fact, he liked that she was so passionate about these creatures. They had their own rituals and routines for these days that had become second nature after all these years. In the beginning however, things were not so smooth. But, like most things, with time and practice, they became better and easier.

During the day on Sunday before the programming started at eight, the couple made their way to the aquarium, where they spent all the time they had in the shark and whale exhibit. While they were there, she would be spouting off random facts about the animals while the Cajun listened intently.

“Did you know that while their actual name is Zambezi, they’re commonly called Bull sharks because of their noses being so squared off and rounded as opposed to pointed like most other sharks? They also get bull from the amount of testosterone in their bodies, making them one of the most aggressive animals on the planet.”

“Beluga whales are known as the canaries of the sea because of the chirping sounds they make. They sound like the little songbirds when they talk.”

All the while, Gambit was smiling and nodding along with the new information being supplied to him. He would follow after her, never pushing her to go faster, with a hand on the small of her back. He enjoyed being able to watch her like this. In her element. She watched the animals move in the water with awe and admiration. With a couple of hours left till the coverage started, they began to make their way back to the mansion so that she could get all cozy and ready for her week to start.

Shark blankets and whale pillows littered their bed. She wore a whale shark onesie so that she could have the best of both worlds and did not pick a side. On their walls were framed pictures from famous photographers of her beloved creatures. Her lover was just returning with snacks and beverages when they got to the ten minute mark on the timer.

“Perfect timing, beau. Got a few minutes to spare. I’m so excited for this year’s shows. They all look super cool. At least they aren’t doing those mocumentaries anymore. Those ruined their years.” She rambled, setting up her tray with everything that she was going to indulge in for the evening. He just chuckled as he helped her set up her sharky little nest.

Chips and dips were in matching, attached bowls to make for easier handling. Bags of regular chips and candies were disposed of in favor of adding them to a few party trays that they had for this specific reason. Their mini fridge housed their favorite drinks so that nether would have to go too far away in order to collect them. All of the dishes, the cups, even some of the food was shark and whale themed. And everyone in the mansion knew; never touch the items unless they wanted to deal with a grumpy girl and her defensive boyfriend.

“All for you, chere. Now, le’s hope dat da X-Men don’ need us dis week. Gambit could use a week off, ya know?” Once they were done, he laid down in the bed with her to enjoy their time together. He was dressed in normal clothing, although he had been convinced to wear a cut off T-shirt that had a shark on it. Although, the shirt did have a Mardi Gras theme, so he was alright with obliging his lover.

“Ooo! It’s starting!” She exclaimed gleefully, shaking in her spot just a bit. He laughed once more at how excited she got, and then they turned to the programming.

It was a healthy obsession, one that did not hurt anyone. And it was a give and take. She got this week to dictate what they did in their free time, and he got a week of his choosing during the rest of the year to do the same. A fair bargain that worked for them. As he relaxed further into the mass of themed pillows on their bed, she snuggled into his side, placing the food on top of their legs.

“Thank you, Remy,” came her whisper.

“Whatcha thankin’ Gambit for, chere?”

“For doing this with me. I know I tend to take over when it comes to these animals, so I appreciate you indulging me with this.” Her words were slightly muffled as she hurried herself further into his side.

“Chere,” Remy pressed a kiss to her head through the hood that was up, “ain’t no problem to let you have your thing. I love seeing you like this, so if dat means lettin’ you take over for a week? So be it. Everyone has their thing.”

After that, there were no more words as the science began playing out across their screen. But her heart felt so full as she processed her boyfriend’s words. Her love for oceanic creatures was something that she had since she was a girl, but sometimes it scared people away when they realized how much she loved them. But not Remy. He stuck through every aquarium date, every factoid, and every shark week. Even if she got insecure about her obsession from time to time, he would remind her that it was okay. Everyone teased her for it, but Remy was always right there to reassure her.

She had nothing to be sorry for. This she now knew, and believed, wholeheartedly.

[burningcheese-merchant]

What are pepper jack and mater paneer favorite foods?

Favorite stuff to do in their own time?

And what were their first words as babies?

One more ask for today, feat. Silly Trivia Questions posed by a mermaid made of cheesecake 🔥

Jack's favorite thing to eat in all the world is modak (an Indian sweet dumpling filled with coconut and cane sugar). He's a straight up fiendish gremlin for those things. Matar Paneer likes to eat a lot of things, it's tough to say what she favors... but she sure loves pouring cheese fondue onto everything if there's any around lol

Jack likes to read. If there's really nothing at all he needs to be doing, then he'll probably flutter off to the library and linger there for a while, looking for books he hasn't read before. He loves to learn new things and is very curious. Paneer just likes to run around outside, really. Climb up buildings and jump from roof to roof. Go bother random people on the streets or who are working lol. She's adventurous; she likes to explore and look at things. She'll challenge herself to get to and from somewhere in a certain amount of time, or play "Where's Waldo" with people and things. Playing games and going on little adventures.

First thing Jack ever said was "fly". Golden often cooed over his wings and told him how he'd learn to fly just like her someday. He learned to associate her words (and her showing him her own wings) with "fly", so "fly" became the first truly concrete word/concept in his mind. Paneer's first word was just "papa" lol. Spice was holding her and she was being wiggly and silly, and... she managed to call him papa. Spice was so giddy lol. He bragged about her first word being "papa" for ages. (She still calls him that. He will always be Papa to her.)

[messymindofmine]

Fandoms and Marginalized Communities

Before I say anything, I want to make it known that everything I say, I am saying as Muslim WOC. I am also saying it as someone with a best friend who is the reason I got into Lone Star to begin with. This best friend is a gay, Jewish man who is also a recovering addict. One of the first things he said to me about the show was that it felt like TK Strand was written especially for him. However, my friend (who was in the fandom since the beginning) left a while back because he finally decided he was sick of feeling unsafe in the fandom. This was a feeling he had since the beginning that had gotten progressively worse.

As disappointing as it has been since s4 to see the way people turned on Carlos, I do appreciate how many people are calling it out. Even though I don't come from the same background as Carlos, I do know what it is like to come from a culture that pushes you into a heteronormative role and so I can empathize with Carlos on his reasoning for marrying Iris and then keeping it a secret even if I wish he had told TK sooner. But then of course he felt like he couldn't because when you have spent your whole life feeling like you could be rejected for revealing something about yourself, it's extremely hard to move beyond it.

That said, I do think it is important as a fandom to talk about reactions we have to characters and why we need to check our own biases. I'm not saying that people have to agree and love every single thing that Carlos does but we can and should give grace to him and consider why he is doing something. It is deeply problematic to assume that he is going to be a bad, neglectful husband the way people were prior to 5X05. Same with how people reacted towards him in s4. You can be upset about a character's decisions while also being compassionate about why they are behaving that way. To go "well they suck and are bad" and interpret every single thing they do with the worst-faith interpretation is deeply problematic when discussing a character of color.

I have been having conversations with the friend I mentioned before about all this stuff and one thing that he said to me that has stuck with me is how one big reason why he left the fandom was because he kept seeing people bring up the ableism TK has gotten since the start of the show in conversations about Carlos and racism and to him it felt deeply insulting because it felt like those people were just using ableism as a way to deflect from the conversation about Carlos and not because they actually care about the issue. Especially since so many of them are the same ones that never had anything to say about the ableism in the past and even indulged in it before s4 when they turned on Carlos. @paperstorm and I have also talked about this and how it's so frustrating that when a conversation is being had about racism, people who have never cared about ableism before will bring it up as a weapon. I do feel like it is extremely important to have conversations about ableism in the fandom because just like racism, misogyny and homophobia, it has been an issue in every fandom I have ever been a part of but bringing it up in the context of a conversation about racism towards Carlos is not the right time and only serves to diminish the seriousness of ableism as an issue. It is not a weapon to be used to deflect and silence people who are hurt by how Carlos has been treated since s4.

That said, I do want to acknowledge the frustration and hurt that I know a lot of people are feeling when it seems like conversations about Carlos are being had in a way that conversations about TK have never really been had. There are people who have talked about TK and ableism but those conversations have been on a pretty small scale. I get the hurt because I feel it too seeing big blogs talking about Carlos and racism and even unintentionally making it seem as though TK has always been favored by the fandom because he is white. I know that it can be hurtful to see people say that Carlos is only getting hate because he is no longer perfect for TK as though TK wasn't the one on the receiving end of hate since 1x02. It is important to acknowledge that Carlos was put on a pedestal right up until s4 and defense of him was done at the expense of TK. When 3x13 aired, people were outright accusing TK of cheating with Cooper and just generally hating on him because they felt he made Carlos sad by excluding him. This was actually deeply triggering for my friend because he is in recovery himself. Let me tell you, it was painful for me to see how much it hurt him seeing the way TK was called selfish and all kind of other things because it is something he has to live with on a daily basis in his own life. There have been so many times since the show first started that people have said things about how Carlos deserves better and how TK just doesn't love Carlos as much as Carlos loves him. How TK gets all the care and attention and he never does anything for Carlos. How TK gets special treatment from the fandom. All of these things and so much more. And then in s4, when these same people turned on Carlos and started using TK as a weapon, it became too much for my friend and he left the fandom. I know he is not the only one who did so for the same reason.

I just wish that people would understand that conversations about TK and Carlos can both be had and we can even talk about how bigotry towards different groups are ultimately the same in the way they are perpetuated. That is to say, it's not always they obvious ways of using slurs but in the way of microaggressions. I also think it is important when defending Carlos to not ignore the hate TK has gotten. I'm not saying we have to bring it up in detail in every conversation but simply just not making it seem like TK gets favored. There was a double standard against TK right from 1x02 and it's not fair to ignore that. Actually, even the way people weaponize TK is a big microaggression. To act like somehow he has no agency in his own marriage and that he is going to fall apart if he doesn't have Carlos' attention is a big microaggression because it leans into this idea of addicts being selfish and weak. The TK that exists in the show is the opposite of both these things and it is just as offensive to speak about him as though he is those things as it is to make Carlos out to be a terrible, neglectful husband.

Overall, we all need to be more careful about how we speak and write about characters. And even if our only intention for wanting a character to make a mistake is to maximize angst, we need to be careful about how we project our desire for angst. Wanting Carlos to mess up because the angst potential of it is exciting is still a microaggression both because it villainizes him unfairly and because it takes agency away from TK. The same applies the other way round too. Wanting TK to mess up for the sake of angst (as has happened) is also a microaggression because it villainizes him unfairly and it takes agency away from Carlos. When we talk about characters that represent marginalized communities of any kind, we need to take these things into consideration. We also need to listen to others when these issues are called out. If your response to someone pointing out something that is offensive is anger and deflection, that is on you. As someone who has been in this fandom since the beginning and has seen people leave because they feel unsafe for any reason, I don't want that to happen to anyone else. We can have fun and escape real life in fandom while also calling things out. We can also call out one issues without ignoring or minimizing others. I know it can be a hard thing to balance sometimes but the best thing for us to do when it comes to situations like this is to be open-minded and willing to learn and grow ourselves rather than lashing out at others for speaking up about something that hurts them.

[martialartslover7]

Right off the bat, thanks for the positive response.

And about that bit with Shikamaru, sure, you can say that this might potentially contradict all the lessons he learned, while avenging Asuma's passing, but I will say, after all this, even he may start asking a lot of questions about the legitimacy of ANYTHING he was being told from the ground up. Because, knowing that Hiruzen was such a useless piece of garbage for a human being, who practically enabled war crimes on the regular, never asking questions, and just letting Danzo have his way, all that "Will of Fire" nonsense may no longer bear any weight, because it's all build on lies, further spoonfed to people with no guiding principles of their own. All carefully constructed, so that, in the end, it only favors those, that are in-power, and not the ones a few levels lower. It's glorified dictatorship, with just a lot of make up on, to hide the ugly mug beneath it.

Like, something tells me, he always knew that in a way, he was always a lazy bum, but it leaves you asking, WHY that is. He might have been the first to see right through Hiruzen's bullshit, realizing, there is no pointing in risking your life for a state, that doesn't even know you exist, or care to know. Risking your life for your comrades, that's a different story, but by this point in time, after Pain's attack on the Leaf village, the ugly truth of who they were all following was slowly creeping its way to the surface.

Honestly, after learning this, I was half-expecting Naruto himself to develop in a more negative, but understandable direction, after the war, specifically during the Blank Period, because... You cannot tell me, the war didn't affect him in a negative way, there is just no way. Grasping more and more, how it must have felt for Sasuke to know, the most important people in his life, sacrificed themselves, only to be met with scorn and spite, having the village essentially piss on their families' grave. Especially bearing the knowledge that, a piece of trash like Danzo, essentially rendered the sacrifices of both his parents, and the deaths of all those, who were affected by his actions, the Uchiha clan included, completely meaningless. Making it seem as if their sacrifices meant nothing in the end. This HAS to break Naruto in a way, in a similar vein to what Sasuke had to go through, after Madara spilled the beans to him. Knowing that, these loving individuals, who would have continued to give their otherwise bleak, lonely world, more light, bit the dust, for freaking nothing.

If Naruto was actually peak, let's be real, the Blank Period should be renamed the "Revolution Period", where Naruto and Sakura band together, along with the Konoha 12, to publically pardon and relieve the Uchiha clan, working to get a memorial stone set up, with all the names of the Uchiha, down to the last freaking INFANT that was born and slain that fateful night, to be carved on there, along with a memorial statue of Itachi Uchiha. An everlasting reminder that: This should never happen again.

Only then. ONLY THEN. Will Sasuke be able to come home, and TRULY feel like, he came home. To give him the feeling that, this village, in spite of all its faults, is willing to show humility, especially under Kakashi's guidance. That, his clan, is finally being acknowledged. Along with the sacrifice of his brother. Naruto would openly welcome his brother-in-arms back, and all this, would be the ULTIMATE form of a love declaration on behalf of Sakura. It can also be seen as an apology letter from both Kakashi and Sakura, for not having trusted him at first (sorry, I am a SasuSaku loyalist, but don't worry, I more than sympathize with the hesitation to accept it, I have been there).

Happy End.

...unless, the Konoha elders don't plan on soiling the memorial stones.

Weird Wednesday Headcanon: Outside of Team 7, Neji, Shikamaru and Kiba sympathize the most with Sasuke's fall from grace after the Five Kage Summit.

Alright, this is another headcanon of mine that can be written off as "mental", but hear me out, this has so much potential.

I'd like to think that, outside of Team 7, Sasuke wasn't just closely acquainted with Naruto, Sakura or Kakashi, but also:

Neji (whom we even got a small teaser hint of a rivalry between him and Sasuke for, which sadly, never came to be, because Byakugan VS Sharingan is a question in the community, that truly needs answering)

Shikamaru (shogi rivals, nuff' said, the only guy, that managed to corner Shikamaru at his own game, I mean, Sasuke is meant to be a genius too, so, why not?)

Kiba (just being around him, Sasuke's IQ just automatically decreases, but in a fun way, like Renji and Uryu from Bleach, considering, Kiba had lived most of his life, surrounded by moody, dominating women, and he might be Sasuke's "stay-in wingman", when it comes to Sakura, or they would just talk about how tiring women can be, but they do manage to get best results out of you with their motivation, and he would be way easier to handle for Sasuke, because unlike Naruto, Kiba ain't braindead)

These are the three main players, but if you want, you can also put Choji and Rock Lee into the mix, considering that, later down the road, Sasuke's and Choji's daughter would end up becoming besties, and if Might Guy wouldn't survive the war, he and Lee can become the new Kakashi and Might Guy, the next generation, if you will. And this is ironic, because...

...just by coincidence, who else was sent to get Sasuke back, to prevent him from defecting to Orochimaru? Ah yes.

But now, I get to the meat and bones of this thread. And that being, the reason why I believe personally, it was a wasted opportunity to not give Sasuke more personal allies that sympathize with his actions, after he joined the Akatsuki.

Like, NO ONE can tell me, that the Uchiha weren't the only ones, who were under close observation within Konoha borders, by the elders. Sure, they were the biggest target, but it leaves you asking, especially in regards to those clans, who are either the strategist faction, or possess sensory type abilities: What about them? Wouldn't they suspect that something was going horribly wrong over there, at the Uchiha compound? Did absolutely NO ONE hear the screams, or blood splatters? I am just not sold on the idea that EVERYONE in Konoha blindly agreed to Tobirama's discriminatory policies, some had to know better than most. The select few, who weren't exactly fans of just distancing themselves from another clan, all because some frankly racist piece of garbage for a Hokage said so, along with the useless shitstains, that are the Konoha elders, especially Danzo.

And now, three people come to mind, where I truly felt like, they could have been there that night, when the Uchiha clan was being slaughtered, and they were either too late to stop it, or Itachi had knocked them out with his Genjutsu (which purposely contradicts Madara's propaganda about "no one in the village cared about the Uchiha, and only saw them as tools"). And ironically, they are probably the very select few of the adult shinobi, who weren't complete sub-human trash.

Hizashi Hyuga.

Shikaku Nara.

Tsume Inuzuka.

Just picture these three adults being the only ones, who caught on to what was happening, through not just the screams of terror, the smell of blood, or seeing through the walls with the Byakugan from Hizashi. But sadly, by the time they arrive, most of the Uchiha were already slaughtered. And right before they could even act to evacuate those, who may have survived, Itachi arrives, and knocks them clean out with his Tsukuyomi, not killing them, as their passing would just cause an uproar throughout the village, the following day.

And once Danzo learns, that three non-Uchiha, Leaf shinobi, were actually present that night, and they may or may not have caught a glimpse of who else was there that night, Hizashi, Shikaku and Tsume were forced to stay silent on the matter, as Danzo threatened them, through the lense of the ROOT Anbu:

"Dare to let a single word about last night's events slip, then your clans will be receiving severe repurcussions."

I mean, sure, it's kind of silly to try and silence three unrelated Leaf ninja into keeping silent, but considering how paranoid the elderly can be, especially Danzo, I wouldn't put it past him to actually go there.

And how convenient, because as the story progressed, two of these adults would wind up deceased. Shikaku died in the 4th Great Ninja war. One piece of the puzzle, gone.

Hizashi would actually be the first one to die, before all two of them, because the Hyuga clan was trying to mend their security blunder that one fateful night, when someone from Kumogakure tried to kidnap Hinata. But keeping in mind everything I just said, it just adds another layer to how corrupt this shinobi system truly is. Who is to say, Danzo basically bribed the Hyuga elders to sacrifice Hizashi, in place of Hiashi, because he couldn't possibly risk that one defiant Hyuga showing lip to the Hokage? Something to think about. Even if Hiruzen remains a useless piece of shit. You can never be TOO careful, right?

Tsume would probably be the only adult to keep on living, to tell the tale, and through her, does Kiba learn, how deep the rabbit hole with Danzo actually goes, and how Sasuke's hatred for the village MIGHT be """mildly""" justified. Especially if Neji and Shikamaru were to approach him about their own clan blunders, involving Danzo, right after his passing at the hands of Sasuke.

But especially Neji, man... If everything I said gets applied in practice, it would mean, outside of Naruto, he might also be considered worthy of facing Sasuke in battle, after the Five Kage Summit. Because, not only does he more than understand how it truly feels to lose family and loved ones, but also, how this entire shinobi system is essentially screwing over those, who were unfortunate enough to be born into families, that get treated like dirt by the government, that is supposed to protect them. Just imagine their exchange, while Kiba faces off against Jugo, and Shikamaru holds Suigetsu at bay.

"A slave to your own family... I really don't need another moral lecture from a man, who willingly decided to stick to his own kin, despite them viewing you as nothing short of cannonfodder. And yet, despite it all, you still side with them... Run, Neji. Run and hide with your insignificant existence weighing you down, before I tear you to pieces." --Sasuke

"No, Sasuke. You're wrong. If it's any consolation, I am more than able to sympathize with your current state of mind. As of recently, I had to learn the hard way, that you and I, at the end of the day, are not so different. Believe me, you're not the only one, who was royally screwed over by the same village that you once swore to protect. The only reason, why I am not defecting, is because I still have family left to protect... Which is something I cannot say on your behalf, as much as it saddens me to say this. You have every right to hate us. Especially considering, we believed the rumors first, leaving no room for you to speak up and defend yourself. I didn't come to lecture you. And I won't run... because I am going to make you listen." --Neji

Pretty epic, isn't it? I am sorry, Neji is just the GOAT to me, and anything to make him and Sasuke spiritual broskies, I am here for that. Just visualize how adrenaline-driven their encounter would end up being, if you add the Bankakyo Byakugan into the mix. This is how Neji's Bankakyo would look like (source by Aleister Brown):

And for context on what this eye gives Neji for busted abilities, which make him a more or less equal match to Sasuke, after he got Itachi's eyes implanted:

Left eye: Foresight (he can look 10 seconds into the future, to predict Sasuke's moves, before he could even pull them off)

Right eye: Timeskip (improves his Taijutsu, by basically freezing time all around himself, and teleporting, at anything his eyes can see for time)

And, to make it even, with the Bankakyo, you can even summon a chakra avatar, similar to the Susano'o called, Sarutakahiko, take a look:

And because it's me, this is the music that plays in my mind, every time I am trying to visualize their fight, with these conditions being met:

...and to end this thread on a more comical note, when I said, Sasuke's IQ lowers around Kiba, and I compared the two to Renji and Uryu, here is why. It's even more ironic when you consider, Uryu and Sasuke have the same seiyuu! Noriaki Sugiyama! Check it:

OK, OK, enough with that. Have a nice day.

Peace.

[dutybcrne]

If one were to find flowers or even apples having mysteriously appeared in one’s pockets or bags, chances are Venti was behind it

[fayevalcntine]

Positioning Louis as the "Edwardian wife who becomes trapped by her husband" in a literal sense does no justice to analyzing his actual place and role as a Black man in his society and in his relationship with Lestat. Any interpretation or analysis you do of him when it comes to their relationship cannot be stripped of the racial aspect because it's constantly there. Texts analyzing Edwardian wives (and particularly ones this fandom loves to bring up) typically were white and the dissection of their place in societal rules are always viewed from the aspect of gender that is within these texts only allowed to white women, but never to Black men or even Black women. And gender and race become inseparable when you discuss the latter, no matter how people may view it.

This is why I can't take this approach to analyzing Louis' story seriously because if you don't consider the racial aspect in his relationship even to himself and his sexuality, what's the point? You're still centering the standards that were more placed upon white male/female couples than you're willing to look into the unique structure of Black families, religion, their view of homosexuality and how that sooner heavily influences Louis than the family's "need" for him to be sold off to an Edwardian husband. Even in Louis' own story, him and Claudia being Black is more centered on than any demeaning "housewife" comment he tries to go against from Claudia's perspective. She makes that comment once, whereas we have at least two episodes from Louis' perspective that have very blatant hints and showings of the racism he still suffers from under the Jim Crow era and how it affects his self-worth as well as his relationship with Lestat who doesn't seem to take into consideration how any of the blatant racial aggressions and objections still affect Louis and what he considers to be important to achieve in his own life.

Then there's also the pointed topic of Louis' position as a Black man who is a pimp to the Black women he has as sex workers, as well as how his position as a Black father affects Claudia, another Black girl. If you insist on Louis being centered as this "Edwardian white wife" who is confined by his implicit gender in his marriage, where does that leave Claudia and the blatant misogyny and disrespect she gets from both him and Lestat? Lestat who is her white father abuses her. Positioning Louis within the strict confines of "being her mother" doesn't do her any favors because he didn't hesitate to choke her when he was deeply emotionally distressed, nor does it make him look any better when he's fine with chopping up her diaries and then delivering them on a silver platter so that Daniel, another white man, can read and dissect. Even if he does this under the sole pretense of "doing right by her", how does it in any way help when he also can't face up to his failures towards her?

[cosmic-walkers]

stephen, wolsey and thomas being in proximity to one another is always interesting because they all essentially started from nothing and made something of themselves. like i just realized they were all co-workers and were dealt bad hands in life, but still, they all essentially ran the country at a point.

[beeribas]

Learning more about how elections actually work and how Trump won 2016 has gotten me thinking. All I can think is how satisfying, how poetic, how karmic it would be if Trump were to loose 2024 as he won 2016; thanks to the popular vote.

[suga-kookiemonster]

just watched the halftime show, and i really hope some of you realize just how massively stupid you sounded when you were talking crazy out the side of your neck about THEE usher raymond iv 🥴