#this whole situation is a mess

[illustratingari]

Chris, blink twice if you need help.

Press for Don’t Worry Darling | Buzzfeed News | Instagram

#chris pine #harry styles #florence pugh #olivia wilde #gemma chan #don’t worry darling #celeb drama #this whole situation is a mess #this whole entire movie production is a mess #i absolutely cannot stand Hollywood people anymore #somebody save him #he needs help #don’t worry darling drama #don’t worry darling movie

[brasiliangp]

all the 103 rbr academy drivers seeing a 34 year-old with over a decade of experience in the sport getting a seat in their junior team

#this is in no way shape or form shade to daniel because I rather see him take perez seat IN redbull #and have liam or something take nyck's AT THE END OF THE SEASON #this whole situation is a mess #shitposting

[joowee-feftynn]

one thing I'd never really get on Tumblr is the lonely but cozy feeling of a private account (like in twitter). I don't exactly feel that much freedom to ramble on and on about things that come into my mind, considering people other than my closer friends could see me ramble and that doesn't make me feel exactly safe.

Idk dude i just feel like I'd really miss Twitter once I'm obligated to leave it. It was so fun.

#this whole situation is a mess #i wish 2022 didn't end like this it was already such a tough year for me #vent

[viralarcadian]

apparently the sauce tastes like ranch w a bit of acidity to it, which. you don't need to pay twenty dollars for this

also she uh. lied about the ingredients? she uses mayo, not buttermilk, which means ppl w egg allergies are going to be in for a nasty surprise

#this whole situation is a mess

[lynxgriffin]

I think after the initial shock of it wears off, Kris would just find it really unfair that all their friends get to be cool giant horrors in another universe but they're still a human. Like come on, they just can't catch a break!

#ask lynx stuff #lynx art #eldritchrune #we won't talk about how 'inflatable' and 'indestructible' really do not work together #also unless Kris gets a pact with demon Ralsei they can't understand what they're saying #so really this whole situation is a mess

[flaticeball]

hey! as the first season of connor bedard gets underway i, your local indigenous hockey fan, have a request of you: please don't let this kid's sure to be marvellous and jaw-dropping rookie season make you complacent with the racism of the blackhawks as an organization. it is beyond heinous that they were able to secure the first overall pick this year for a number of reasons i'm sure we're all familiar with, but i am pleading with the hockey community not to let the racism of this org fall through the cracks.

they drafted connor bedard and handed him a jersey with a giant racist caricature on the front. their mascot is named tommy hawk. they continuously fail to curtail their fans' egregious displays of anti-indigenous racism at games.

i'm not going to ask anyone not to post about bedard. i know he's huge news and i'm bummed as all hell that i won't be able to enjoy the beginning of what is sure to be an incredible career myself. but i am asking, given that his presence on the team is likely to increase the prevalence of people making and reblogging posts about the blackhawks, that you please care, loudly and actively, about the racism of this organization and how much it hurts indigenous fans to see that go unquestioned so often.

consider mentioning it in posts. consider amplifying the voices of indigenous fans and community members about the issues of these types of sports organizations. consider reading up on the history of the person they claim to 'honour' with their hideous effigy of a logo. consider censoring the logo in your posts if you are able to (please do this if you are able to). consider tagging posts so that indigenous fans are at the very least able to blacklist that team and not have to see it.

above all, please just. don't forget about it. don't forget about us. we belong here too.

#gav gab #connor bedard #chicago blackhawks #i jsut. it makes me feel sick every time i see that thing. #this racist caricature of a native man's head on their jerseys on their ice in their locker room #a native man who had his body mutilated in death including having his head removed #it's fucking grotesque and it makes me literally sick #i was really looking forward to see what that little wizard boy could do! #and now it is wholly ruined for me #and i keep seeing people just. posting about it like this team is normal. like it's any other team #no ethical consumption under sports is true but some things ARE worse than others #and there is no justification or excuse for being a blackhawks fan in the year 2023. there just isn't. #and like..... it bums me the fuck out for bedard himself too #like he didn't choose this #he just got like. put into this situation #it sucks #he's a teenager and now he's in the middle of this whole mess he didn't create and isn't responsible for #and i can't expect him to do anything about it #but boy was i excited to see him play #and now it just..... yeah #well.

[little-pondhead]

Bruce was being watched. Again.

He didn’t know where it was coming from, and that was a problem at the moment. He was hosting another gala, intent on putting on the “Bruice Wayne” mask for the public. None of his children were attending, unfortunately, but everything was going okay so far.

Then he kept feeling a cool breeze on the back of his neck. His hairs stood on end, and he shivered randomly. Someone mentioned that he looked cold. But Bruce wasn’t cold. He was Batman! Batman is never bothered by something stupid like the temperature. It just felt like there were multiple pairs of eyes staring at him from all directions.

Bruce tried to catch whoever it was, but when he looked, there was no one there. He even made extra laps around the room, easily slipping between socialites and chatting his way through the crowd. He scanned the tables, checked the stairs, peeked outside, and even snuck at glance at the chandeliers for fuck’s sake! There was nothing. No cameras, no lingering eyes, nothing.

Bruce could feel his heartbeat quicken. There was something in the room. Something dangerous.

Eventually, the source of his anxiety came to him. The gala was small, being in the middle of the off-season for social events. It was a relatively quiet gathering. Still, Bruce flinched when someone tapped his shoulder from behind when he was making another waltz around the room. He turned, and was faced with a boy no older than 16, but no younger than 14. It was hard to tell his age. He wore an ill-fitted navy suit and scuffed dress shoes. His tie was no where to be seen, and the boy had a platter of finger foods balanced in one hand. He hadn’t heard anyone approach at all.

What made Bruce freeze, however, was the fact that the boy looked exactly like the portraits of the young Thomas Wayne that were hanging innocently in the Wayne family home. His crystal blue eyes seemed to glow in the overhead lights as they bore into Bruce. It felt like the boy could see his soul. The air was more chilled than it had been all night, and everything in Bruce’s mind was screaming DANGER!

“Y’know…” Bruce’s breath caught in his throat as the boy spoke. His midwestern accent was heavy, and the boy took a slow moment to polish off a baked feta bite before continuing. “You look like the kinda guy to have a secret basement. The bloody kind. Nice party, though!” With that, the boy disappeared back into the crowd, taking the cold air with him.

Bruce never got out a word.

———

Danny sees all the wandering souls and shades attached to Bruce Wayne, and comes to the obvious conclusion that the billionaire is a serial killer.

#pondhead blurbs #no beta we die like danny #danny phantom #dp x dc #danny fenton #Bruce Wayne #bruce is very unsettled by this literal child #who looks like a carbon copy of his father when he was a kid #Bruce is stuck between fight or flight whenever danny is around #which makes him freeze up cause he doesn’t know what to do #he’s afraid of this child #danny thinks bruce wayne is a serial killer #and then he sees the other Waynes and is like #‘oh it’s all of them’ #‘well I should probably do something about this’ #so he accidentally becomes the newest villain because he’s trying to stop both the Batfam and the Waynes from Situations #he is not aware that Bruce is Batman #they’re both funky and the whole city is messing with his Vibes #he cant catch a break #but also he is an idiot #with no self preservation #like #what’s the etiquette for confronting a serial killer? #compliment his party #obviously #dpxdc

[hcdragonwrites]

Tangled Love

(A @semisolidmind Drabble)

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

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

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

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

She had to look the part of Queen.

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

To a point.

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

This time however she hadn’t been.

It was the first time in ten years.

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

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

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

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

Her husbands.

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

My sweet boys.

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

She had been wrong.

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

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

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

Taken away her decisions.

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

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

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

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

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

The knock on the door was not something typical.

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

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

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

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

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

A drunk.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She had been staring in those eyes when he died.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Your… your my…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His Peaches.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Look what this place did to bruise my sweet fruit.

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

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

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

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

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

“Hush love…”

“Please!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It was Never your fault Peaches.”

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

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

“He killed.”

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

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

A pretty price.

She snapped the box closed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Blood?

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

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

A vicious cycle.

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

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

Peaches shook her head.

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

“…. Myself.”

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

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

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

#hcwrites #writing stuff #twice as bad AU #semisolid #bad end wukong #ALRIGHT I DID IT. #yes I wrote this in a dayish between work and my other writing #I haven’t done this much work in a long time and I was so nervous I would get this pairing wrong #bad monkey boys #they made a whole tangled mess of this situation. #they sweet but stinky #sun wukong #sun wukong x reader #six eared macaque #I based this off a idea and answer Semi gave in one of their blog posts #was I lurking? yes. Because there stuff also has a vice grip on my mind #I Dont know much about LMK so getting this Macaque down right took a bit of work so I didn’t mess up the vibe. #i am so jelly of the nest pit pls I would dive into that like a child into a ball pit #jttw tag #lmk #it think I’m tagging that right ? #I have a weakness for big possessive grumps loving their sunshine wives #six eared macaque x reader #hcfanfics

[gogethelp123]

Genuinely curious what logic people have to claim that what mclaren did to Daniel is worse than what has just happened to nyck. Let me lay these events out for you.

Daniel got a contract buyout, that couldn’t have happened unless he agreed to it. He got a say in his departure and a rumoured 18 million. He’d done two years in that car and all but one race was shockingly mediocre for a driver of his experience level. They signed oscar before the summer break, they could’ve replaced him mid season. They didn’t. Daniel got to announce his own departure, f1 made posts about it, people were sad and outraged to see him go. Mclaren waited weeks to announce Oscar as his replacement despite already signing him. Daniel got his time before he was replaced by a younger, more exciting talent who would cost far less and get potentially better results.

Let’s look at Nyck. He’s done a grand total of 11 races, 10 in the alphatauri that his teammate has only hauled into the points twice. We get no actual announcement that he is leaving, only one that he is replaced by a much older driver before even the summer break. No one acknowledges his departure, they’re too excited for daniel to come in. Reports say neither Nyck or his family knew of the announcement, he was totally blindsided. And I’m sorry to say this, but if Daniel was any other driver with his results from the past two years no team would take a second look at him.

I’m not here to tell you all to forget about daniel and mclaren and that it was all fine, it was handled poorly and they should have put an exit clause in the contract for that exact scenario. However, don’t claim red bull have treated nyck better. Red bull demoted drivers from the top team yes, they don’t usually drop alpha drivers mid season. They’ve screwed nyck over and no one will even give him the basic respect of a ‘nyck de vries to leave alpha tauri’ post.

#this whole situation is so messed up. #honestly sucks for everyone involved. #both of them deserved better #but don’t diminish what just happened to nyck because your fave is replacing him #daniel ricciardo #nyck de vries #f1blr #f1 #formula 1 #red bull

[dykealloy]

the main problem with the law luffy alliance is that law unfortunately hasn't learnt the art of setting the straw hats on an island like a rabid invasive species or perhaps deadly incurable virus and then taking a step back for a couple weeks to go. idk harvest some organs or something. get back on coke like he was in sabaody. maybe come back intermittently to check if anyone's in imminent threat of dying.

#'the straw hats always make trouble for me' yes. that's their whole thing. you brought them here. you should know this #if you don't want to be in situations you shouldn't be swinging with the situation makers #not to say i dont enjoy law constantly finding himself in some sort of bloody mess even though he's supposed to be the rational thinker #one piece #op #CJ's op watch-through #lawlu #trafalgar law #op meta

[ghostlydeanbailiffcloud]

I have stopped interacting with qsmp for a while now but I continued looking at ccs tweets on the topic, I found that a lot of people were being hypocritical (hate to all ccs that reconnect unless they said 'sorry🥺')

And here is Pierre's answer to a tweet "calling him out" and he gave an answer that I really like so here:

Pierre is the only cc to have helped and kept constant contact with quack, the first to know and try to help, to contact the admins and everyone threw that out because he didn't say sorry?.....

#aypierre #qsmp #qsmp aypierre #oh and french ccs boycotting just fell at a convenient time with etoiles break and baghera show none even streamed #only antoine technically boycotted #in my opinion bross #this whole situation has been a mess fueled by people refusing to inform themselves

[ryllen]

" ... as soft as talking to a new born, the voice you dream your children would hear during their bed time stories ... "

#the developer knows we will spend a lot of time with this guy; his voice is soothing; his laboratory background music sounds like a lullaby #the way he asked what else do you want to know and said astronomy ... and that whole last sentence at the end #my time at sandrock #mtas #mtas qi #mtas builder #fanart #he is dangerous because i actually like his appearance the most #and owen also looks very charming and he is very polite #but i also like how unsuur sounds when he explained about his rocks #i literally replayed that part 4 or 5 times fhsfsdh for re-choice-ing reason #my favorite part is when i licked the rock and #FHDDHSfhshdhsdsh /////// #hngh i'm so done............ #wait until fang starts talking #maybe he sounds charming too when he speaks in a long sentence #even tho it was a mess of a voiceover project; i like portia voice casts #i think they were picked from random people who auditioned for the character; but it what makes them sound so colorful #i think sandrock uses studio's? the voices for sandrock feels too well-situated #but i'm adjusting to accept it all overtime #also if u didn't get what i meant by 'the voice you dream your children would hear during their bed time stories ' #it means u want him to be the father of your children #but he would literally refuse to tell stupid fantasy story to his children and only pick the space related ones #but the children would sleep well anyway even tho they don't understand anything because of his soothing voice

[saelrum]

Don't deal with the Devil

#sonic fandom #sonic franchise #sonic the hedghog fanart #silver the hedgehog #mephiles the dark #you know... in my mind shadow is silver's parent #so this whole situation with mephiles is even more messed up

[tswwwit]

i’m sooo curious on bill meeting dipper’s parents. i think i remember you mentioning at one point they kinda sucked and treated dip especially bad. i’m sure that’s caused a lot of his long term mental health/self esteem issues and i can’t help but think his husband wouldn’t be too thrilled about that. also they don’t even know he’s married so that’s a whole other thing lol

In the Familiar AU, Dipper's parents shipped him and Mabel off to Grunkle Stan back when they were twelve, actually!

This was initially excused as the twins 'needing to get used to having magic'. Which makes sense! Magical puberty is a heck of a thing, and getting some training's useful to cut down on random magic surges.

But by the end of the summer, they hadn't made any plans for picking the kids up. This when Stan twigged to the real situation.

And by the end of that year, Dipper knew his 'paranoid' assumption was absolutely correct.

So the twins grew up in Gravity Falls, with only very occasional visits back 'home'. Contact's been sporadic, and Mabel's been the one who's clung more to their parent's attention. Dipper hasn't spoken to them unless forced to in years.

So yeah! Bill's not exactly thrilled with the parents - but lucky for them, they haven't met him yet! And they definitely don't know about the marriage. Much less anything else.

#answers #In summary: The twins' parents found out their kids were magical and decided they Just Couldn't Deal with that #They're not magical themselves and giving your kids some Magic Training is a good idea #But at some point you need to actually *take them back* #Which they just. Didn't #Dipper abso-friggin-lutely has a whole mess of issues from that #Abandonment's a big one. Being worth something and good at something? Yep that's an issue right there #Not the least of which is that Mabel as a more Talented and Powerful magic user got more attention when they were still there #Then continued to get more attention via phone call when they weren't #Mabel's got some REALLY rose-colored glasses on about the situation #Dipper sees it for the 'well my kids are freaks but at least one of them is a Cool Freak' it is #That's a fact he's been stewing on for *ages*. A fact bomb that he could theoretically drop on his sister but never did #Needless to say he got the brunt of the Issues™ but Mabel's got her own in turn #I'm also betting there's more than a dash of homophobia in their parents considering their reaction just to Magic #So the parents aren't going to be very thrilled about either of their partners #In my head I picture the parents wanting a Totally Picturesque Family #And creating the visual of one is easier if you only have Pictures of the kids instead of them being there and being themselves #In summary: Yeah The Parents Suck #I started a fic for this once and I still intend to write one but that's a later type of project #I gotta have the right start for it to flow well

[sevensugars]

watching people losing it over the skipped 'I love you' in 2024 makes me feel like an old wise oak tree... like yes... feel through the pain... tis an old ache for me... barely feel it in my old weak bones... it shall mature you in ways you did not foresee... make you bitter forever... etc

#spn #destiel #deancas #.blah #tumblr was such a mess when it first surfaced. worse than the whole mishapocalypse situation

[lunar-years]

omg your last tag made me realize higgins is like the cassandra of tl. saying jane wasn't good for beard! suggesting it might be time to let ted go! he was the only one who voted to bring jamie back! him calling out rebecca in s1! if everyone would just listen to higgins, everyones life would have been so much better

Higgins is so underrated I love that man with my whole soul. and add to the list his advice to Keeley that made her feel confident enough to leave Richmond <3 he's always speaking facts!!

#i think he really took his wrongs in the rupert & rebecca situation to heart #and said to himself 'i'm never going to be like that again. i'm never going to be too cowardly to speak up.' #and then he kept that promise to himself the rest of the series!!! #i respect and love him so much for that #he really speaks to messing up and then deciding to do better and be better and actively following through #which is the whole beauty of the show isn't it? #leslie higgins #ted lasso #im a higgins appreciation blog for real #asks