#my answers aren't very interesting

[sleepis4theweak]

I just saw your post on Mikey doing angry stimms and had to ask for more /nf since this is the first time I've seen someone draw angry stimms for a character (it's not that common from my perspective)

Thank you- love your artstyle so much!!! :D

(P.s. I also get angry stimmys too sometimes)

Aww- thank you so much for this ask! I am really, really happy you liked it!! And yeah I feel like angry stims aren't talked about as much...

Anyways I was really super excited to draw more- still using stims that I have done, though these are a little more uh... aggressive? I wanted to preface this by saying that I do these gently, or they are stims that I've replaced with something else hehe :)

For my angry stims a lot of it is based on frustration so it's kinda a lot of flailing? Like aggressive shaking. The biting one isn't something I've done in a while- and is one that I would try to do gently (would not recommend that one lol), and the punching of the thigh is something I tend to do (gently) when I'm hella frustrated with homework :)

[son-of-avraham]

Something I love is how forward goyim can be when their jewdar goes off

[canisalbus]

I have a feeling it might be hounds... but do you have a favorite dog group (working, hound, sporting, etc.)? And do you have a favorite breed(s)? I'd kill to see a shepherd breed in your style 🥺❤️

Hounds is correct, sighthounds in particular! I like spitzes and primitive breeds, and some livestock guardians as well. Outside of these groups, I've always had a soft spot for dobermans.

[picatchu]

uploading characters on art fight is taking a while because i keep getting distracted by my OC's prognosis after surviving a zombie virus

[crescentfool]

What are your ryomina headcanons? I've loved these two since I played P3 FES, and I'm so excited to get back into the fandom^^

hi!! thank you so much for the ask, welcome back to the p3 fandom, it's always a delight to see new and old ryomina fans alike! 🥺💛💙

as for headcanons, here's a "few" i that i tend to come back to a lot! my interpretations of them are influenced from both the source material and other's fanworks, so i've linked to them as i saw fit! hcs in no particular order under the cut because oops this got long (900 word bullet point list, mentions of reload content up to 1/1)

minato's hair is dyed blue (hair originally brown, you can see it in his roots!) and he has a beauty mark on under his left eye. i like mirror imagery and there's definitely a few arts i've rb'd that portray them this way :) (e.g. this one by feliichu and this one by marasschino)

as far as i'm concerned the bathhouse scene from the manga where ryoji's hair down = similar shape to minato? that is canon to me. this art from xierru is a fun depiction of hair down ryoji :D

ryoji is homeless. everyone say thank you foxmulder_whereartthou for this awesome fic it's why i have the headcanon! but like seriously. we have no idea where ryoji lives and i could believe this.

minato dying at the end of the game is sad to an outsider's POV BUT!!! ryomina gets to be together in death for the rest of their lives (this illustration from mafuwara is a gorgeous representation of them as nyx avatar + the seal)!

speaking of the seal, they are like telepathically communicating to me in the great seal together. (mymp3 had a comic wip with this. give it a looksie :D)

ryoji likes cuddling with minato because he's warm :) (something something orpheus has fire affinity, minato is warm by extension and ryoji is cold because he's death)

ryoji's camera roll is filled with pictures of minato! ryoji... loves life, to me. and i feel that photography and journaling are perfect ways of expressing gratitude and capturing the moments in life that are most important to you :3

my other favorite activity for these two is stargazing- i feel like it's something they could appreciate either in life or death (looking at the stars from the great seal...)! they do a bit of this in the fic eurydice's vow by crescentmoontea (P5R spoilers, takes place in third sem it's a very fun fic concept).

between ryoji and minato i feel like ryoji was the one who fell in love first- and it doesn't really click in place for minato that he loves ryoji until december hits (appriser reveal + ryoji transforming into thanatos). its about the realization that ryoji was with him for his whole life and that he gets him like no one else does.

ryoji is like a sad and wet puppy who is so scared minato won't like him back. he is so scared of being rejected by minato to me like. this boy straight up deflates after he does his "i know i said i wanted us to be friends, but... i actually want to be something more." / "what about you?" on 12/1 ???

AND SPEAKING of wet puppy ryoji. ryoji is like. every animal in the world to me. he's a bird. he's a cat. etc. and also ryoji knows every language in the world ever and uses it to express his love for minato. see this fic from superheroics to see what i mean.

both of them are lactose intolerant. "this isn't lactose, it's milk!" i definitely think ryoji would make himself sick eating ice cream and milk he doesn't know what lactose is. (i made a silly poll about this once and the tags were very entertaining.)

i see minato as transmasc or nonbinary depending on the day (schrodinger's headcanons babey they're simultaneously true and not true at the same time!!). either way he's not cis to me and ryoji is like. His Gender. anyway go read this fic by nail_gun for t4t ryomina :D !

ryomina are WEIRD GUYS TO ME!!! they are so strange and they understand each other better than anyone else because of the circumstances of their relationship!!! if you asked them to do the "i wonder what i taste like" meme i think they'd start biting each other (affectionate) tbh but that's just me.

after ryoji gives minato the music box in 12/31 on reload, minato listens to the music box every night in january. this boy has insomnia and also chronic illness to me (things that housing death does to you). but i think he finds comfort in the melody and memories he made with ryoji.

in general, i think it's fun to imagine minato taking ryoji to places and show him things he's interested in! i feel that ryoji takes a lot of interest in minato's life, this isn't really a hc because in reload, minato DOES give ryoji a tour of the school (11/9) and possibly port island (11/12). but ITS CUTE OK! (tangentially related fanwork: this series of doodles from vinnigami: 1, 2, and 3)

not a hc but minato's kindness is like the backbone of their relationship and i think we would not have the ryomina we know and love today if minato wasn't such a kind soul. oh minato.... we can learn so much from you... like ryoji did!

anyway! that's all the hcs that i could think of, thank you for the ask! i had a lot of fun answering this, these two mean a lot to me 💛💙

i hope you don't mind the links to the fanart and fanfic as well, the fanwork people have made for ryomina have really made an imprint on me! if you want to see more of them, i definitely recommend looking through my tag for them because oh. i got a lot of them reblogged alright 😂 (<- SOOO NORMAL)

[not-poignant]

You get a lot of questions via tumblr. Are those ever a burden to you? Do you feel a lot of pressure to answer?

Yeah I currently have 104 unanswered asks on Tumblr to give you an idea of like, me not being able to get to them all.

Some of it is how AO3 has changed my ability to respond to comments has eaten into my ability to respond to asks. Some of it is that I get a lot of social anxiety around responding to certain kinds of asks. (I like those asks, so I'm not going to say what they are in case people stop sending them lmao).

Most of it is that I realised a few years ago that as fun as responding to asks is, that's not actually my job and because it takes time and often research to respond to some of them, it makes it harder for me to write the stories that folks enjoy in the first place, and that one is probably the biggest reason I no longer pressure myself to answer in the same way.

Some of the asks I reply to, especially the ones that require research that a reader could themselves do in the story (I get asked a few things that are actually often already answered in the story, and I answer them the same way a reader sometimes could: by using control + F with keywords in the story), can take 30-45 minutes to compose. Writing advice asks take a lot longer. Research asks can take a long time too.

I can write a chapter in 2 hours, though I'll be tired afterwards, so I can't do that 4 times a day (especially with editing etc.), but you can sort of see how very quickly, if I get fatigued from writing for 2 hours, sometimes I'm going to have to choose between asks, replying to comments, editing, or writing a chapter.

I love the asks I get, they're not a burden at all, but I do make choices re: prioritising what I have time for, and what I can spend spoons on. I've made myself very sick from overworking, so now I get to asks when I can, and queue them up (if you see an 'administrator gwyn wants this in the queue' then I've actually responded to a bunch at once and they'll come out slowly over time so I don't spam people in 10 minutes and then vanish for months lmao).

I still really enjoy them though, and I'm really lucky to get them. :D

[sadlynotthevoid]

The queer relationships aside, why do you think wind breaker gets so much? " Mind breaker" " Tokyo revengers rip off " " cringe breaker"

I know nii sensei is Big fan of wakui , you can notice how suo and sugishita designs are influenced by izana and baji. But wbk story is totally different than Tokyo revengers...... Do you think wbk deserves the criticism?

That's the first time I hear that. I haven't seen Tokyo Revengers either so...

What I have seen is people complaining about Sakura's blush tendencies. Something about "it's not funny anymore". So I guess some people don't understand that his blush is not just a recurrent joke, but comes from genuine surprise to people being kind or seeing affection and feeling shy and embarrased because he's not used to this. That probably has to with Sakura being kind of tsundere and how tsunderes are often either girls (in which the trait is often meant to be cute or seen in that way) or boys being mean/tough. Sakura's pov tends to show all his bittersweet and warm feelings, so I guess they don't get it.

I think I saw people complain about the lack of romance between Kotoha and Sakura (not that kind of relationship at all, lol) so, lack of waifus? Not sure.

Again, I don't pay much attention to the general opinion about wind breaker, so I don't know how much or which kind of criticism it gets (oh, there's people who complain about Sakura's "lack of protagonism". I think they should go and take a look at those winx memes about Bloom, lol). People love to complain and no matter what you can't please everyone. Where some will complain about a series having too much fanservice, other will look at other series and complain there's not fanservice. Some people will complain about unrealistic happy endings, other will complain about unnecessary sad endings (yes, I'm calling myself out. I hate unnecessary sad endings). Some people will say SAO is overrated and others will love it. ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯ I do think most series get more negative criticism than they deserve.

If the criticism is about the aforementioned, then I don't think so. If it's about what you said, I don't know the context nor have I seen Tokyo Revengers (I've seen people compare them, but only saying that Wind Breaker was better. Tho I didn't bother watching those videos because the only comparation videos I watch are about food and dance anime scenes), so I don't really get it.

Btw, these questions remind me of when I had to prepare questionaries, polls and the sort for school. It kinda makes me feel like that time I went to the supermarket wearing a red t shirt and an old lady confused me with an employee.

[gingermintpepper]

Hi!! I don't know if you remember me, but I'm the person you explained the Castalia thing to a few days ago. I've been following you for a while now, but I just managed to go through your blog well and proper, and I'm here to express both my gratitude for the amount of info and links you've shared (I did NOT know about the hepatoscopy and haruspicy, and I'm about to go down a lengthy rabbit hole) and my horror at once again being given a new hyperfixation (I didn't imagine wanting to read about liver-divination help).

Also, also, are you the author of Exeunt Phoebus Apollo on AO3 because that was the fic that sent me on this greek mythology spree, and it's so good I got obsessed with Apollo, and he's everywhere around me now. Thank you for writing it!

AAAAAA THIS IS SO SWEET?? THANK YOU!! I do remember you and hey man, I'm always happy to help <33

I'm so glad to recruit someone else to my hepatoscopy group because it is a long and storied tradition with many many different types of study and schools of thought dating all the way back to the Sumerians! It's an extremely underrated bit of study when it comes to sketching portraits of divination and prophecy when it comes to adaptations of imaginings of greek myth works - similar to bird augury (which was such a widespread skill that most people had some level of understanding of the basics of what the omens of common birds meant the way people now can look at the clouds over head and know if it'll rain and when approximately that rain'll happen).

It's a great and common misunderstanding that things like prophecy and magic were these fantastic elements that had no tangible features to their practices and while there's nothing wrong with interpreting things as more fantastical for the sake of coolness or aesthetic, I personally think these elements are interesting enough to be worth looking into and portraying!

Also yes, I did write Exeunt 😳I'm very very honoured that you enjoyed my work so much and I'm even more grateful that it could let you see the Apollo in everything 💖 Thank you for reading it!!

[besidemethewholedamntime]

10 people I'd like to get to know better game!

I was tagged by @helenasbertram - thank you!

Last song: Loch Maree Islands by Peat and Diesel

Favourite colour: Navy blue! Or a lovely sunshine yellow

Last book: The Rachel Incident by Caroline O'Donoghue (4 stars - I recommend!)

Last Movie: Legally Blonde

Last TV show: Gavin & Stacey (but I am struggling for TV shows to watch so any recommendations would be appreciated)

Last thing I googled: Mare's Braids Waterfall (to try and find directions to it but in the end we had help from a very lovely farmer on a quadbike with two dogs on the back)

Looking forward to: June 26th after I've sat the MLA and can have 6 blissful weeks of holiday where I can pretend medical school does not exist and I can go a day without feeling guilty for not studying!!

Current obsession: Aw you know I don't even have one just now but I am very much looking forward to my next one!!

Tagging: @2minutes2midnight @romanticmum @rvchelking @agentmmayy @hemnalini and anybody else who fancies having a go

[etoiline]

Also 12, 15 and 25 for Aloy

For my tied-for-favorite ginger avenger, Aloy (I'm sorry, if you put me in a room with both Aloy and Cal Kestis I would a) faint and b) try to figure out how best to have everybody touching at the same time):

12. What's a headcanon you have for this character? Elisabet Sobeck picked out some hardiness and fast-healing genetic mods for her saved DNA and that's why Aloy is stronger and has more endurance than other folks around her.

15. What's your favorite ship for this character? (Doesn't matter if it's canon or not.) I really love Aloy and Seyka (of course I chose the heart option for them), and I wanted an option to get with Petra or Avad, but I think my favorite ship is Aloy/Kotallo. I love the way they interact, how their relationship went from being absolute zero to grudging admiration to loyal. Also they look fine together. Has nothing to do with the amazing performance by both voice actors, nope, nothing at all.

25. What was your first impression of this character? How about now? I'll admit when I first saw HZD stuff I wasn't sure what to make of Aloy. She seemed too perfect and a bit cultural-appropriate-y. But the idea of robot dinosaurs reeled me in (and the game was so pretty), and sure, there's a bit of OP to Aloy, but the game is fun to play and the story is so freaking detailed and interesting and thought provoking--and you get to take down giant dino-robots, which is so immensely satisfying. So yes, now I love Aloy fiercely. Aside: Hubs asked me recently which "ginger with Noshir Dalal-voiced companion would I most want to be" and I had to honestly say I couldn't choose. Between Jedi Survivor and Horizon Forbidden West I've logged over 500 hours of gameplay. Both games let me fall into their world and become something different. Don't make me choose.

[ubike-official]

date back on for sunday now. His friend is okay. thank god. And uhhh, yea now we're finally be fr about the "hey we met on a dating, lets be so fr about what our experience has been" uncharted territory besties. we're not at "so what are you looking for?" but i already essentially told him my approach is to just really try getting to know ppl i find interesting and letting a spark develop from there w/o pressure. kinda like in school where you consistently see people in casual settings. and he thought it was a good plan so uh. here we are.

[sillyfudgemonkeys]

Person on Avatar podcast: One fan wanted to know if Rangi or the events of RoK/SoK will be in Realms Collide. Me, watching the podcast: That's me. I was the fan. owo

[joshuamj]

in regards to last reblog (specifically my tags on it), very friendly reminder that i would love to receive asks, i promise u will not be bothering me. Just be prepared cuz depending on what u say i may ramble on and on.

[the-mehlwurm]

god was i average in school

[moyazaika]

housewife syndrome

yandere! rockstar x fem! reader

cw; possessive + obsessive behaviour, severe mental instability, paranoia, anxiety, violence, heavy nsfw themes, mdni 18+

genie's notes; commissioned piece by a very sweet anon ♡ thank you so much for trusting me with this absolutely stunning idea. i’ve always been a fan of domestic horror, especially of the spiralling housewife variety, so it was fun to explore a new dynamic and fresh writing style. <3

"welcome home, sweetheart!" the television runs on low volume in the background as you greet your husband with a knowing smile. you run through the motions as you always do, make sure to ask with the most innocence you can muster, "how was your day?"

feroze can make out the sound of gallant applause that indicates you'd been watching reruns of last night's award ceremony.

"such a fucking drag." your husband pulls you into his arms, buries his head into the crook of your neck with a long, satisfied sigh and takes his sweet, sweet time to breathe you in. "couldn't fucking wait to come home to you, meri jaan."

his answer remains the same as it is every other day, and you can't help but smile against his lips when he pulls you in to steal a little kiss; you sigh into his mouth, and feroze is so fucking overwhelmed by gratitude for the familiarity and comfort of this little routine the two of you have seemed to settle down into so well.

"i love when you call me that," you confess; my life.

you know just as well as him that, well—it wasn't always this easy.

"yeah," feroze hums. "i know you do, baby."

you weren't always so lovely for him, were you?

-

you're quiet.

though the two of you are sitting across from each other at the dining table, your attention is clearly elsewhere. conversation is slow, if not stagnant. it's a far cry from how talkative you usually are; and though he would never fucking admit it, least of all to you, he worries, for a fraction of a second, that things are slipping.

"meri jaan?" he sets down his fork very carefully, reaches for your hands over the table.

you blink, pulled away from wherever you'd been lost in your mind and back down to this moment that stretches on before you.

"oh, sorry, my love. what was that?"

feroze watches your eyes quietly track the movement of his fingers, sliding over your wrists, lingering, momentarily, on your pulse—nice and steady—before they intertwine with your own.

your gaze lands on him, then, expectant. he drags his thumb over your knuckles, glad to find they're soft; unmarred by any labour. he loves having you here, tucked away within the walls of this home he built just for you, away from the rest of the rotten world.

such a darling girl like you deserves to have everything taken care of for you. as far as he's concerned, the only thing on your mind should be him.

which is why the silence is beginning to irritate him, now. he's not really upset with you, doesn't have a reason to be, just yet—he's just wondering what it is you're so focused on. where do you keep going back to in that head of yours, and why aren't you here with him?

is this where it all falls apart?

—again?

"rosy?" you try. "is everything alright?"

"yeah," feroze's hazel eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiles, endearingly patient. "i just wanted to know how your day was."

"ugh, don't remind me." you stick your tongue out. "it was so boring. i woke up so late today and didn't really do anything interesting."

"shit, i'm sorry to hear that, baby."

your husband nods towards the television, still playing from inside the living room across the hall; the screen's bright colours reflect against the glass windows that take up half the wall. though the program is muted, he can still hear the echoes from the cacophony of applause ringing loud and true.

the four hour program's been running on loop on some of the smaller channels, and you really seem to enjoy tuning in, he's noticed.

it would be more difficult not to notice this new habit of yours, really. because if he's been counting right, this is the seventh time you've seen the whole thing through to the end.

"seems like you were at least watching the music thing again."

"well, when my stunning husband won half of the awards," you shrug coyly. "how could i not?"

"flattery won't get you anywhere," feroze deigns, though neither of you mention the involuntary curl to his lips as they lift into a small, self-satisfied smile.

"huh, that's strange," you frown, pull your hands away from his own and make a show of examining the elaborately stacked engagement ring and marital band wrapped around your finger. "if i seem to remember correctly, flattery is exactly what got me this ring."

"oh," he laughs. "is that so?"

"uhuh," you nod, still admiring the rings. they're big and they're flashy and there's no fucking chance anyone could ever miss the sight of them; make the mistake of misunderstanding what they mean. you're so obviously his, and fuck, it suits you so perfectly to belong to him.

i love you, he thinks fiercely. i fucking love you.

"you've got an ego, rosy." your knowing gaze flickers back to him, accompanied by a teasing smile. "bit of a praise kink, too."

"and yet, darling wife," he'll never tire of calling you that; never really overcome the thrill that overwhelms him when he sees you adorned in the markers of his devotion and tucked away all safe and sound. "you're the only person whose words mean anything to me."

"ohh, is that so?" you taunt, "whatever happened to 'flattery won't get you anywhere?'"

feroze takes in the sight of you. you're dressed casual, donned in a baggy old shirt and a pair of his softest sweats hanging low off your hips. comfortable in your own home, as you should fucking feel, you have no makeup on, and your hair is unkempt; overdue for a shower; but fuck if he cares.

feroze decides, within a moment, that he needs you—

now.

"come here, meri jaan. i'll show you."

"you greedy, greedy man," you chastise lightly, rising from your seat. "i've just fed you dinner and you're still salivating at my table."

feroze watches you make the small effort of pushing your chair in, before turning on your heel. you pause in the doorway for a second, spare him a knowing glance over your shoulder; "well? aren't you hungry, darling husband?"

he knows that none of it evades you; the nervous bob of his adam's apple as he swallows. the way his fingers are digging into the edge of the table to keep from sinking inside of you right here. his heart is racing; his pants are tight. though you're so willing to be his now, he remembers it wasn't always this easy.

"my love." feroze grits out, "i'm fucking starving."

you disappear into the hallway, mellifluous laughter like the loveliest song, echoing off the walls—inside of his head, for fuck's sake—as your husband follows faithfully behind you when you lead him into the bedroom.

dinner goes cold on the table. you never touched your plate.

upstairs, minutes later, your husband bottoms out inside of the welcoming warmth of your sweet cunt, just as your fingers brush against the butcher's knife tucked right underneath your pillow.

-

feroze gets you to come twice before he decides he has his fill. he's rummaging through your nightstand for the contraceptives he knows you keep in there. it's got less to do with what he wants and more to do with what he believes is best for the two of you.

it's not that he doesn't want children; he dreams of them often. a little baby swaddled in the softest fabrics, wrapping its entire hand around just one of his fingers. the sound of a second pair of footsteps excitedly running down the hall every time he comes home from the studio, from tour. something more to take care of. to keep you busy.

but your husband knows you.

and though he's always been selfish, he can't risk kids until—well, until he knows you won't try to kill them.

it's taken you years to accept him. he won't undo that.

feroze, so caught up in his thoughts, only really registers the blade until it's slicing into his skin, the sharp edge of it pressing against the side of his neck with just enough pressure to draw blood.

he is disappointed, though by no means surprised, to find you on the other end wielding the knife.

he turns to face you, abandoning his search. you're holding onto the hilt of your makeshift weapon with trembling hands, and though he's suddenly overcome by exhaustion—because, baby, how many more times are you going to pull this—an involuntary shiver runs down his spine at the sight nonetheless.

"jaan," he tries to reason with you in hushed tones; oh, love. "what are you doing?"

you dig the knife in just a little deeper, and he winces; "i hate you, feroze." the words sting, though the relative lack of conviction they’re laced with serves as a promising sign of reconciliation.

"i know, baby. can you please just put the knife down so we can talk like adults?"

he glimpses the almost imperceptible change immediately.

the lines of hesitation on your face; a flicker of uncertainty in your eyes. when your hold on the weapon looses just the tiniest fraction of an inch, he wastes no time in gently but firmly prying the knife from out of your trembling hands; tosses it underneath the bed where it lands out of your reach.

he’s getting better at this. gets through to you so much sooner than he used to.

you’re listening, now, aren’t you?

the thought of it makes him oddly proud.

"there we go," feroze says. you're still shaking, and though he wants so fucking desperately to pull you closer and console you—he's learnt to tread the waters carefully in times like these. you're evidently scared. obviously upset with him. he can give you a little room to breathe. “now do you want to use your words and talk to me properly?”

“i keep rewatching the awards show. every other winner had someone there with them. some girlfriend or wife they kissed before they went on stage. you’re the only one who—” you swallow, voice wavering. “i’m the only one who wasn’t there. i’m the only one who’s kept hidden away.”

“you don’t want to show me off.” the tears fall almost immediately. “you’re ashamed of me.”

there are millions of words in the english language, and millions more in his own. he’s put into words every fleeting feeling you’ve made him feel; spun both the most magnificent and mundane of emotions into beautiful songs and compelling lyrics and composed entire albums from nothing—and yet, somehow, in this moment all of it evades him.

"i spend all day stuck here w-waiting for you to come home, and when you do—i keep thinking about all those ceremonies and galas and parties you go to, rooms i can never follow you into—and i hate you. i hate you for how much you hate me—”

“i’m sorry,” feroze’s hands run up your spine, to lightly curl his fingers around the back of your neck. he tilts your head up so that you’re meeting his gaze; leaves you nowhere to look away, “meri jaan.”

his touch is so soft and so, so cold against your skin. you've always run warmer than him; but he thinks you might be burning up right now. maybe you've got a fever; or maybe you're just this delirious even without one. it doesn't fucking matter, doesn't change anything.

“i’m sorry for ever leaving you alone long enough to even think that. let me make it up to you. let me show you how much i adore you. let me build you back up again.”

“you can’t fix this,” you whisper.

he smiles, but it’s strange; doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “so you said the last time.”

-

hours later, you’re less of a sobbing wreck when he’s got you perched in his lap, and all curled up under his chin. “okay… then…” you sniff. your words are somewhat muffled as you bury your face into your husband’s chest. “i’m sorry, too. i didn’t mean to hurt you, rosy. i was just scared, i-i promise.”

"i know.” his knuckles wipe away the tears drying on your cheeks. “give me a kiss, please.”

and ever the sweet wife, you do; but your lips are trembling.

fuck, that’s—

shit.

—not going to work, is it?

with a gentle but firm hand, he pushes you down onto the bed and watches you land on your back amidst the dozens of pillows that decorate the bed. even then, the softest thing here is you. he forgets that, sometimes. let this be a lesson, he thinks to himself, to keep your fragility in mind. this is only further proof that you need him more than he'd even realised.

but you picked the right man, didn’t you? because none of that scares him.

the two of you have faced far more difficult times together; this is just a little hiccup in your life as a married couple. some story you’ll look back on and laugh about, when you’re all better.

so when you look up at him with wide, wet eyes and ask, "its just—can you promise me you still love me one more time?”

feroze regards you closely. you’re so beautiful. so fucking perfect that it overwhelms him. sometimes, he wishes you could see yourself the way that he sees you. though he’s always believed that may just scare you; knowing how deep his devotion really runs. things are fine as they are now.

well, mostly.

he has decided that he will retire from music completely, but the two of you can broach that topic when you’re in a better headspace for it. it’s been a long time coming. work keeps the money coming in, and he wants to spoil you but—he wants you to be happy, above all. you don’t really know what you’re asking for right now, but he has every intention of giving you exactly what it is you wished for.

he can’t give in when you beg to come along with him—but he can come and hide away next to you in this little pocket of the world that solely belongs to the two of you.

"you drive me to madness, my love. nothing about this life means anything if i can’t keep you happy.”

the two of you never had a white wedding; because he wanted to honour your union the right way and celebrate you as his culture deigned. so, yes, he never got to read you any vows, but he'd like to think you've come to know him well enough to understand he doesn't necessarily need to say something so sacred out loud for it to hold true.

"do you understand? i love you," he lowers his forehead against yours. “till death does us apart.”

you put your heart in his hands one more time, looking so small, so vulnerable beneath him. "you promise?"

"i promise," he closes his eyes and revels in the soft, sweeping feeling of your lashes fluttering against his own. "always and forever, meri jaan."

feroze loves you, of this he's certain.

he also knows that you fucking terrify him.

it's a small price to pay, if it means keeping you—

besides, he thinks, reaching once more for the contraceptive pills on the nightstand.

—marriage is all about compromise, is it not?

[bogkeep]

oops it is starting to reach the Annoyance Threshold... how many times can i handle getting recommended the books i literally wrote the post about and mentioned in the tags and comments multiple times.........

oh my god it's so nice to have a text post getting Fun and Good tags for once... yes Do tell me more about your feelings and favourite examples of the royalty trope/genre.......