#insane married behaviour here

[teatitty]

Really cute that in the My Hero Justice 2 game, if you pair up Mic and Aizawa they're equally excited at being a duo and ask if they can have an office cat. Goofballs

[imblocking-you]

This is kinda surprising, most other manhwas actually emphasize that despite the absolute power whoever is on the throne still bows to criticism and they lose power the more that the people do not trust their decision and that their power is still tied with the nobility and the state of high society that surrounds it.

[chixkencxrry]

crazy, crazy for loving you

Summary: Loss can make people go insane. (Yandere! Miguel O’hara x Yandere! Fem! Reader)

MINORS DNI

Warning: They’re both insane and a bit immoral. They are both very, very unstable people. This is a dark story of mutual obsession. (Mutual Non-Con Voyuerism, Mutual Masturbation, P in V, Swearwords, Mutual Stalking, Mutual Non-Con Spying, Oral (F receiving), Dark themes, Cockwarming) YOUR CONSUMPTION OF MEDIA IS ON YOU AND YOU ALONE!

When you see him, it's hard to keep your hands at your side and not run to him. It’s hard not to look at the man that wears your dead husband’s face and not weep like a baby. But you know it isn’t him. No, this man with the war in his eyes and fangs of a beast is not your Miguel.

But, God – God, did you wish it was. 

So, yes, you were quick to agree to be apart of his little operation. Quick clipping the gizmo onto your wrist. The Spiderman logo spread along your torso like some awful red target. He knew your name, but it was obvious that you didn’t exist in his world. If you had, you were sure they would have been together. No. The you of his world was dead, like the him of your world. It was darkly poetic. 

Lyla had taken a liking to you – his AI. She unintentionally helped you keep track of him; you didn’t stalk just keep track. 

Then it happened. The fine click that had truly sent your observing of Miguel corrupt into something else, something darker. 

Something had caused the collapse of your world. It was a war, much like the great Titan on EARTH-199999. Your world crumbled before you; you already didn’t have much left after the death of your Miguel but now you had nothing left. 

When the collapse of it came, you were not on the battlefield with the other Avengers. You had been in the cemetery, fingers clawing into Miguel’s grave – determined to bury yourself in there with him. The cold mud coated your hands and body, knee digging in. You were about two feet deep, mad with intent. 

“Y/N?”

The word stilled you. It was Miguel, you turned your head in a horrible hopefulness. Disappointment settled on your shoulders, in some half-mad frenzy, you’d thought it was your Miguel. But it wasn’t it was Miguel.

“Leave me alone.” you growled. “My world is dying.”

“You don’t have to.”

I died when you did.

“I’m right here, Y/N.”

“No.” you muttered, fingers in the dirt. “You’re below. I’m getting you out.”

A warm body dropped down, covering your back and pushing you forward. You wiggled and fought but felt a pinch at the side of your neck. Your mania subsided, a false peace overwhelming you. Before you knew it, you collapsed in the mud. 

It had taken weeks of manic behaviour. They had to sedate you to get you to calm down – barricade and and chain you to stop you from attacking. You’d gone mad. 

When Miguel came to visit you, you’d taken a turn for the better. 

“I heard you broke Spiderman 8077’s jaw.” Miguel doesn’t seem amused. He stands over you – through the fizzing cage that electrocutes you everytime you touch it. You can’t bring yourself to snarl or fight. You look at him – flesh, bone, hope. 

“He tried to make me forget.”

Miguel flinched. “He suggested something to help you sleep.”

“If I sleep, I forget him.”

“It doesn’t work like that.” Miguel’s tone was soft and low. You closed your eyes and imagined being home in your apartment, the record player on and rain falling. Miguel dancing with you, dipping you low and laughing on your skin. 

The daydream dissolves when you hear the click of your cell open. His voice of stone ordered; “Lay down.”

Instinct, really – the way you move to the cot and wiggle until your back hits the wall. The bed shakes as Miguel’s massive frame sets itself on the bed. He held you, pulling you close. He smelt like your Miguel. Felt like him too. But were all rugged edges compared to the softness of the man you were married to. Your fingers threaded in his hair, snagging a few by accident to bring them to your nose. You tucked some strands into your suit. For later.

For the first time in years, sleep came to you with ease. With that ease came the confirmation of what a gift reuniting with this different Miguel was. You had a second chance. Now, it was time to make use of it. Properly.

***

Miguel had started watching you when your world collapsed and you’d transition to his universe. Now, it wasn’t that he hadn’t been stalking – following – shit – observing you before. He’d just wanted you to get used to the Universe first. Ensuring you had a good identity, a day job and income. 

You’d been grateful. So, very grateful.

He imagined that gratitude as something baser, raw and trembling. But he knew not to test the hand of fate. Yet he hungered for you. The devotion you’d shown to your husband, a version of him, was indescribably delicious. He wanted that for himself. Wanted you, all tears, all love. Each aspect of you a memorising thing; greed flooded him at the thought of claiming you.

It seemed like fate to offer you the guest room of his apartment. He hadn’t used it in years, and it was a waste not to let you in. You’d jumped at the opportunity – a perfect gift. You didn’t know what you were doing to him. Yes. Having you in his house, showering, eating, naked, open – mierda!

 He took a deep breath to cool himself down. You were still at the dorm quarters of HQ, significantly more sane than you were a week ago when the two of you first slept together. Your scent still lingered in his mind. Lilies and cucumbers, fresh and vibrant. Thick and rich, god – he wanted more of that. More of the security of holding you. More of having you have him. The feel of your body curled into his, the softness of your silk skin breaking the delicate thread of his self-control. 

Miguel looked at the room he’d allotted to you. Climbing to a corner to screw in a non-reflective camera. Getting you here was the first step and he was a patient man. Miguel had to make sure the apartment looked lived in. Making sure that some floorboards creaked, chipped at some paint on the walls, and ensured there was a leaky faucet in the guest bath.

His watch dinged. Fifteen minutes away. 

Lyla flickered into existence. “Wow. This violates so many laws.”

“Didn’t ask.” he grumbled, wrenching open a panel of the wall to place a listening device.

“You get that for free.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Anamolly on Earth-7834, they need backup.”

“There are thousands of other Spiders to call.” He placed a nail between his teeth, hammering the panel back on.

“Yeah, well, Y’N asked for you.”

That made him pause. Swearing, he hurriedly put the panel back and suited up, tapping his gizmo and falling into a different dimension. 

***

You only felt a little bad for deceiving Lyla. 

Sure, Miguel would probably be pissed when he found out that you had lied and made his AI lie to him with some clever coding but it would be worth it in the end when the two of you were finally together. You just couldn’t get out of HQ unnoticed without some sort of distraction. So, you figured what could be better than calling in a favour with a friend you’d made while traversing Universes? Felicia was more than willing to play the part, ever wanton for chaos. 

She helped you cause a minor anomaly which sent off enough of the Spiders off and allowed you to sneak into Miguel’s apartment. You looked for the master – the only room with a photo in it, one of him and his passed daughter. It broke your heart to know the pain he’d experienced. But you knew you were here now and more than willing to provide comfort and a new child. You’d even let him name the first one. 

You weren’t here for that. You were here to plant a few presents. Sticking to his bedroom ceiling, you planted a camera in the corner, near his closet. In his bathroom, by his shower and mirror – you planted another one. 

Time was limited. You knew the false alarm would only give you a short time. Before you left, you went through his closet, nose dug into his clothing and inhaling his scent. Sandalwood and oud. God, the earthiness sent a shiver down your spine. Unable to control yourself, you snatched a T-shirt and left through the window. You have five minutes left until your proposed arrival. Five minutes until Miguel consensually lets you into his home. 

Foolish boy.

If only he knew what you had in store for him. 

***

Miguel hurriedly returned home. Frustration laced his sojourn, as he tried to figure out just how Lyla had mistaken you calling out the anomaly of you being there and requesting his help. It was probably some bug. A minor thing he would fix after he greeted you. 

One minute left.

He was cutting it close, climbing through his window and showering as fast as possible. He hadn’t even had time to dry himself off when the doorbell rang, pulling clothes on with wet skin. 

“She’s here!” chimed Lyla, a little too cheerfully.

Miguel rolled his eyes. “No soy sordo, Lyla.”

When he opened the door, you were standing there with just two bags and a smile on your full lips. Eyes fluttering up at him with thick lashes and a soft look; “Hey.”

“Come in,” he welcomed without preamble. Miguel purposefully kept the space for you to pass narrowly. You were shorter than him and plush as you passed, buttocks jamming him slightly as you turned your back to pass in. Your toes shoved behind your feet to slip out of your shoes without him asking, he forgot for a moment that you knew him, even if it was another version. There were parts of himself you probably knew better than anyone did.

That made him excited. 

“Your apartment is lovely.” You said earnestly. “Where do I put my bags?”

He moved to you, taking the bags and walking ahead to lead you to the guest room. It wasn’t bad. A queen-sized bed and all other necessities for a room. Miguel gestured to the opened door, “That’s the bathroom.Might give you some trouble but you’re welcome to use me – I mean mine anytime.”

You didn’t seem to catch him fumbling – ayúdame dios – walking around the room to get a better view. In the dim light, you looked fantastic, the neon of the outside shining on your skin and the expanse of your perfect skin exposed in those tiny shorts you wore. 

Jealously bloomed in his chest. Had you fucking worn those on your walk here? How many people saw you? How many men had seen you in this way? Feral rage gripped him. Miguel set your bags down in the doorway, stepping back before he did something violent. 

“You eat yet?” the question came out as a snappish growl which seemed to startle you. He cringed. He didn’t want you to fear him – he just wanted you to know your place as his. 

Your brows furrowed. “You good, Miguel?”

“I’m dandy, princesa.”

A delicious blush bloomed on your skin. The honey was not enough to stop it from beaming forward. He wanted to drag his tongue down – to see how far this blush went. “I-I haven’t eaten yet.”

He smiled a slow, easy grin. “I’ve got some food in the kitchen. Eat with me?”

“Sure.”

Dinner went by slowly. Not in an awkward manner but it was agonising all the same. Agonsing to watch you sit across from him, agonising not to touch you, agonising not bit into your flesh and claw into your pussy with his hard cock. 

His patience wore thin but he maintained. 

The two of you had drinks afterwards, sitting on the couch until it grew too late. You yawned, hands stretching to the ceiling and pointed breasts jotting out through the cotton of your tank top. Your hoodie was abandoned somewhere. He eyed the pleasant curves of your body, the grooves that came from you being Spider-Woman and the softness that came from your natural figure.

“I’m gonna take that shower.” You announced. “Thank you for letting me stay with you, Miguel…I really appreciate it.”

Could you appreciate it with your mouth around his cock? “Of course. Anything for you. Y/N.”

You smiled prettily scampering off into your room. Miguel wasted no time in heading to his own, pulling up a camera feed from your bathroom. He sighed, watching you undress. You were humming along to something, hips shaking and hands running down your body. 

He raised his hips, shoving his sweatpants down. His half-hard length plopping out. Fingers encircled the base, rubbing up and down as he watched you move. 

You stepped into the shower and he switched the cameras. You sodded your body up, perfect nipples hard and hand slipping between your thighs. You rubbed yourself frantically. Rolling your nipple under your palms as you humped your fingers. 

Miguel turned the volume up, his own cock coated in his special essence as he watched you. His hand became frenzied, tighter as it took him closer to an orgasm. His peak came as your voice sounded the last thing he expected to hear. 

His own name. 

“Meirda…Y/N…you want me too, baby?” He coated himself, groaning as you slumped on the video. You shook off your climax and finished showering, stepping out with a glow. He restarted the video, turning the volume louder – thankful for his soundproof room. 

The knowledge that this wasn’t one-sided set something off in him. He threw his head, stroking himself from top to bottom. Desire coiled in his belly, like a snake ready to pounce.

Who was he to deny your wants, princesa?

***

Your fingers rapped on Miguel’s door somewhere close to midnight. You’d timed it perfectly. Your fearless leader hardly slept anyway so you were sure you wouldn’t be intruding. After all, you were sick? Weren’t you? The pills weren’t working, you needed to sleep. You hadn’t slept properly since that night. Lies concocted to make it all work. You just had to maintain your facade of innocence. 

You smiled, thinking of Miguel’s little performance for you on your camera. You’d seen him stroke himself over and over at some random video feed. You saw his thick seed spurt out. Saw the girth of his length twitch to life. Fuck. You wanted that. 

“Y/N?” Miguel’s voice was hoarse with sleep. You softened your face and frowned. “Did I wake you up? I’m so sorry…I just couldn’t sleep and you’d helped me that night…”

Ever generous, he opened his door wider to let you in. He’d changed form his earlier sweatpants. No doubt it was covered in his own spunk. A shame, really. “Of course, come inside. I’ll get another blanket for you.”

“Oh no.” You showed him the lilac blanket you’d brought with you from HQ. “I have my own.”

“Hmm.” He led you to the bed and slipped behind you to spoon you as easily as he had that night. You hummed, wiggling against him. You made sure to throw your blanket on both of you. You heard Miguel groan behind you, his body shifting and arms holding you close.

The synthetic material was interwoven with your pheromones, wired to set Miguel off. That night he had slept with you, you had plucked hair enough to get his DNA to pattern it so that it made him rut like a beast in heat. It was a chance you were taking. It would only work if Miguel wanted you too – if only a little You grinned, smiling as your payment boiled up. Miguel would be yours, it was what was best. 

Even if he didn’t know it yet.

Hours passed. You laid awake listening to him torture himself. Your patience grew thin. Why didn’t the idiot just hold you down and fuck you yet? “Miguel?” You whispered. “Everything alright?”

He murmured in Spanish, nothing clear enough for you to even hear. His hand, large and spanning, set itself on your hip. 

You ground your ass into his crouch. “Miguel?”

“Cállate princesa,” he growled in a tone that made your toes curl. An excited smile spread across your face. “I need to take a walk.”

That made your smile drop. “Now? It’s so late.”

He didn’t say anything, his weight lifting from the bed as he went to hurriedly dress. His back turned to you as he tried to be modest. Your eyes dropped to his round ass. Was he really going to go out and fuck some bitch after you did all the work? Not on your watch. 

“Miguel,” you dropped your tone, low and purring. “Come back to bed.”

He turned his head, eyes red as they flickered over you. “I don’t think that’s wise.”

Was he afraid of losing control? How adorable. You sat up, letting the blanket fall from you, the muscle shirt that was three sizes too big fell off your arm exposing an entire breast to him. You were being desperate but you’d be damned if he wasn’t going to rearrange your guts tonight.

He paused, staring at you. You almost grinned. That seemed to do it. 

He dropped the t-shirt he held and crawled over to you, pressing his forward to your as he inhaled your scent. “Tell me this is real.”

Oh.

You desperate thing. How I will devour you, How I will keep you. “It's real. I need you, Mig. I want you.”

His lips slammed onto yours. Tongue piercing the seam of your lips to kiss you fully. His hands pawed at your body, grabbing and groping at everything. Your sleep shirt was ripped in half as he claimed total access to your body. Your hands touched him everywhere, settling on the hump of his buttocks, pulling it close to your hips. You rubbed your bare crouch against his sweat, humping him with blind need. 

Miguel pushed you back, your head hitting a pillow as you watched him take his cock out. The fat, beautiful thing you’d been dreaming about riding since you met him. There wasn’t anytime for preamble – you wouldn’t suck the beautiful thing just yet. 

He stroked himself for a moment, red eyes boring into you as he lowered his face between your legs. Miguel ate you sloppily. Lips smacking and tongue licking, he sucked your swollen clit, pressing his index in and out of your weeping pussy. 

You gripped his head, arching your back as your thrust your hips up, truth spilled from you: “Eat me so good, Miguel. Fuck, you don’t know how long I wanted this.”

He was too busy enjoying his meal to respond. The lewd noises making you tremble as much as the act. Miguel’s fangs brushed against your folds, before he fucked your pussy with his tongue, pressing his dampened fingers to rub your clit as he licked your insides. 

Clenching around his head, your mouth spewed all manner of dark desires, the height of your arousal squirting all along his face. Words failed you as he continued to worship your pussy with his mouth and fingers. 

He raised his head for a moment. His left hand cupped your tit for him to suck while his other fingered you to your second orgasm. Thumb rubbing your clit in precise circles as he bit and sucked your areola. Faster than the first, you mewled your orgasm out on his fingers. Miguel let your nipple fall, watching you as he sucked his fingers dry. He sat on his hunches, leaning back as you writhed, quivering pussy begging for more. Begging for his cock. 

“You look pretty like this princesa, pretty falling apart in my bed for me. You want me to fuck you now? Want me to spread this pussy wide? Want me to make you fucking bawl? Beg for it, baby.” His face read of cruelty while his lips purred to you. You watched helpless as Miguel looked down on you. One of his hands stretched forward to your wanting hole and slapped it. You whimpered. He grinned and slapped it again. 

“I want you to know something before I fuck you,” he whispered, leaning forward, mushroom tip brushing along the seam of your slit. “You’re mine, princesa. You’re my puta. My perra, zorra. Mi amor. Mi todo. And I’m greedy, so when I fuck you – know that it's all over. I become your world and you become mine.”

You bit your lip. The words fell like poetry in your haze: you were truly made for each other. Did he even know how perfect he was for you?

“Ye…s.” You croaked out. “Yes, Miguel.”

His hips snapped, bottoming out into you so hard you screamed against his laughter.

***

Was this heaven?

Miguel had long since thought he was banned from such a place. Long since thought salvation was removed from him. But right now, while he held your waist and fucked his cock into you – he knew he had found it. You looked divine. Your mouth agape and hands rubbing all over him. Your breasts, bounced and full as he made his mark in you. He wanted every groove of his cock known by your pussy. His cock was to be imprinted, moulded into you. You were to know no other but his by the time he was done fucking the common sense out of you.

“My pretty cock dumb, princesa.”

You hummed, heels digging to his ass as his hips snapped. You squeezed him tight but he knew he was leaving marks on your body as he fucked you into his mattress. “Gonna keep you on my cock every day. You'd like that wouldn’t you, perra?”

“Love t-that.” Nails scrapped his back. “G-Gonna cum.”

He could feel that in the tightening of your pretty cunt. The slimy stickiness of your desire echoed in the room, he pinched your nipple making you cry out. “I know, princesa. Do that for me. Cum on my cock.”

Miguel felt your climax, wet and whimpering. You cried beneath him, overstimulated as he fucked you. He fondled your breast once more, hand going between the two of you. He rubbed your sensitive clitoris, smirking as you moaned from the ache. “Good girl. So pretty crying like that. Think you can go again?”

You shock your head, tears forming in your eyes. He felt his balls grow tight but kept at your clit. You shuddered at another shockwave. Finally, he thought leaning forward to cover you until your breasts smashed against his chest. His own release came, loosening the taut feeling that had centred his whole body. Miguel’s hips jerked, making sure his seed took its rightful place in you. 

When he tried to roll off, you kept him on. He looked at you questioning.“Don’t want any to drip out just yet.”

“No chance of that,” he muttered, kissing your neck. His hips jerked, as he found himself in a slow rhythm. “I’m not nearly done with this pussy yet.”

***

“I don’t think I’ve ever visited this universe.” you pointed out at one of the monitors. It was an Earth without a Spider-persona filled with cannibals. 

 Miguel looked to your side and grimaced. “Fuck no.”

You rolled your eyes. “What’s the sense of me being here if not to go to unknown places?”

Miguel huffed, hand sneaking under the skirt of your dress. “Princesa, you came here because you saw me talking to a female Spider-persona and then insisted on warming my cock for the rest of the afternoon.”

“So?” You waved your hand. He was lucky you didn’t her to that universe. Perky little bitch was looking a little too googly-eyed at him. “Maybe I was bored. You ever thought of that?”

“You can always go back out on the field.” He suggested.

You snorted, rolling your hips to make him hiss. His cock twitched, surrounded by your leaking cunt. “The last time I went on a mission I thought you were going to kill my poor partner.”

“He was being a little too friendly.” 

“Honey,” Miguel’s hand slipped inside the front of your dress, popping out your full breasts as he slowly rocked up into you. “Peter from Earth-997845 is very much engaged to Johnny Storm.” You wouldn’t mind going out again but you were so comfortable living simply with Miguel and helping him manage HQ. Who was he even talking to? He hadn’t gone on a mission for the months you two had started seeing each other either.

“You’re a hyp–” he stood up, making you bend over the desk, your breasts hitting the cool metal, he pressed the side of your face down as he slowly plunged in and out of you. “–ocrite.”

“Me?” He grunted, hands going up and down your sides as he took his time dragging his cock. “You’re the one who assaulted me in my office just so you could fill it up with your scent. You don’t think I know your tricks, zorra?”

You grinned, working your hips to meet him. “You better make me squirt a few times – just to make sure the scent takes then.”

Miguel chuckled above you, his talons ripping open your dress as he made good on your challenge. 

MASTERLIST

I'll probably make this a reoccurring thing. Hope you guys liked part 1. Reblogs and comments are nice.

[sleepingdeath-light]

yandere househusband hcs ; wally

requested by ; anonymous (09/05/23)

fandom(s) ; welcome home

fandom masterlist(s) ; here

character(s) ; wally darling

outline ; “maybe yandere househusband wally who wants to tend to everything but hates when y/n is away ? they get tired of it though and end up leaving regardless”

warning(s) ; references to panicked behaviour, possessive mentality, jealous character, stalking, thoughts of imprisonment, thoughts of career sabotage, thoughts of drugging/making reader ill

the day you got married was the happiest day of his life — if he were able to, wally knew that he’d have been practically sobbing from joy

he rewatches your wedding tape pretty much daily and his breath always catches in his throat and his heart skips a beat when the camera pans to you when you start walking down the aisle towards him

call him sentimental, but you’re the centre of his world and he’s not afraid to act like it

he thinks he’s the luckiest person alive because you chose him — believes that you’re far and away out of his league and he dreads the day that you realise it too

you’re perfect, you’re everything to him, and he’s just… him

this mentality means that he’s fucking terrified of losing you and will break down and panic whenever you’re out of his sight for even a moment

being in a different room in home is difficult enough, but you going out to work every week is as close to hell as he’d ever like to be

every morning that he wakes up in your arms is pure bliss — an excuse to shower you in affection and bask in every morsel of love that you provide him with — and he could happily spend hours in bed with you

laughing, whispering, cuddling, kissing, being together away from the world

but then your alarm goes off and the illusion is shattered and he’s met once again with the reality that you need to go to work today

he goes through the same stages every single day, like clockwork, hoping for you to change your mind and give in just once

(isn’t that the definition of insanity?)

he starts off by reasoning with you, calm as he can pretend to be, cooking you your hearty breakfast (he’d even learned to cook for you) as he tries to rationalise you staying with him today

you just went to work yesterday

you haven’t had a day off in so long

you’re looking a little off-colour, maybe you should sit today out

one day off wouldn’t hurt your colleagues

and so on until he plates up your food and sits at the table with you, chowing down on some apples whilst you eat and diligently debunk every argument he made

then his arguments will start to get a bit more desperate, more frenzied as he runs his hands through his messy hair (not having bothered to put it up yet)

you don’t need to work, he can provide for you through home

poppy will bring you food so there’s no need for the paycheque

everyone misses you whilst you’re away so why would you want to upset them

but, of course, these don’t work on you and you just smile and shake your head and get up to change into your uniform

wally follows you, still arguing — almost yelling — as he slowly devolves into begging you to stay

he can feel his chest tightening and his vision is fading in and out and his hands are trembling as he collapses in front of you and grabs onto the edges of your blazer

no longer arguing

no longer shouting

just begging in a broken whisper that’s as close as he can get with his permanent grin to sobbing

begging you not to leave him

please don’t walk out the door

what if you don’t come home

he can’t live without you, please

please, please, please

he’ll do anything you want

just don’t walk out of that door

exasperated, you sigh, and kiss the top of his head and gently pry his hands away from you as you reassure him that you’re only going to be gone for a few hours

that you’ll be back before he knows it — and he shouldn’t be so silly about the whole thing since you’ve never not come back to him

and he whispers that maybe this time you won’t

and you very firmly promise that you will before hurrying out of the door so you’re not late to work

leaving your husband dejected and silent, kneeling on your bedroom floor and just staring emptily at the carpet

you’d gone. again.

you’d fucking left him. again.

because he was such a failure that he couldn���t keep you home and now he was going to lose you

he’d seen what your coworkers looked like, how they acted and sounded, he’d followed you to work plenty of times — and he saw how some of them looked at you

they looked at you like he did and he wanted to kill them for it — and he would if he knew it wouldn’t upset you

because the last thing he wanted was to drive you away

but still: you were his spouse, his darling, his muse — and he couldn’t believe the unneighbourly gall those people had to look at you that way, to even think of you that way

you were his

so rather than take a life, wally channelled his anger into the moment and wreaked havoc throughout home

tearing up canvases, tossing tables and generally destroying whatever he could

even home didn’t dare try and intervene

not until he’d gotten his rage out enough and he was back to being his calm and (semi-)rational self

when he’d calmly stand and walk through the chaos he’d created, up to your bathroom where he’d get dressed and do his hair up — humming a merry tune as he went

then he’d pick up a dustpan and broom and get to work on cleaning up his mess so you’d come back to a clean house

you only deserved the best, after all

and he couldn’t have you knowing about how he could get

it’s when he’s cleaning up home that he starts contemplating new ways to make you stay home — to stay with him, away from those nasty prying eyes

maybe howdy will have some sleeping pills that he can crush up into your food — or something even nastier — so that you’d get sick enough to stay home for a few days

wally certainly wouldn’t mind playing nurse

or perhaps he can have home lock all of the doors and windows and prevent you from getting out — you’d have no reason to leave and you’d have all the time in the world to see why you shouldn’t

home loved you too, after all, and he was sure they’d be up for it with a little convincing

then again he could always call up your place of work (it was easy enough to snag their contact information the first time he followed you in) and just lie

maybe your service was poor or maybe you were secretly a criminal stealing company assets… he could just take a few files from your folder, you’re trusting enough to not check before you leave

it would be easy enough, all of it, to pull off — but more planning would be needed, and he really didn’t want to hurt you

he loved you, after all, that was why he was doing all of this

why he chose to stay at home, why he learned to cook, why he became the best househusband he could be

and why he knew that he needed to do something to keep you with him

but, then again, there was always the chance that he could convince you on his own — no drugged food or spiked drinks or sabotage required — to stay at home

he just needed more time — and he’d give you all the time you needed because that’s what good husbands do

[missingexaltation]

AU Fic Idea:

In 2022 famous frontman and guitarist Eddie is accused of inappropriate behaviour back in the 90's, at the beginning of his rise to fame (though the allegations are obviously false and easily proven to be false).

However...things get weird for his fans pretty quickly as other stuff about his (usually quite private) life is discovered.

He responds to the allegations on Twitter with just one word. 'Lol'. The internet goes insane, thinking Eddie is just being blasé about what he did, to the point where after a day or so he gives an actual official press release.

'I'm deeply sorry for my initial response to these allegations, however I can confirm said allegations are completely and grossly false. I have been happily married since 1991 and have at no time cheated or behaved in a way that could be seen as cheating, especially with someone underage. I was not in the same country (or continent!) at the time these events were supposed to have taken place (lots of proof available online). Apologies again for being so flippant, but I didn't think anyone actually believed I was capable of doing something so awful.'

His fans immediately are confused because...Eddie's...married? And has been for over 30 years? Social media runs wild because the only proof of marriage they can find is from 2016, and here's the kicker, it's to a guy called 'Steve' of all things.

The only thing they can find from 1991 is a request to change his name, but he's been Eddie Harrington for as long as anyone can remember, certainly as long as he's been famous. Then SOMEHOW the entire 1986 saga gets brought to light, and 'Eddie Munson' and his 'husband' are discovered to have been 'attempted victims of a serial killer', but survived. Hence the scars on his stomach and neck, the internet realises. What the fuck.

This all happens over the space of a week or so, and Eddie's social media is silent (not unusual for the old man, but still... people want answers). The internet is very confused and his music is suddenly being played everywhere, a complete resurgence in his early, very popular rock albums with his band (who have also remained silent).

Eddie eventually goes live on social media and answers a bunch of questions from the chat.

Yes he's married. Yes in 1991 but it wasn't legal, but he still counts it, because fuck the government, that's why.

Yes they got legally married in 2016, on their 25th wedding anniversary.

Yes it's to Steve, yes Steve was prom king at school and really popular, and a 'hot piece of ass' (and still is).

No Eddie wasn't popular, he was a nerdy piece of trailer trash like he's always claimed.

Yes he nearly died, but that was ages ago. Steve saved his life and they've been tragically in love since then.

Eddie (and Steve by proxy) somehow become the internet's favourite queer dads, despite neither of them really being active on their social media or doing anything to promote themselves. Eddie eventually gets a tiktok where he puts up dumb clips of his family and friends, and lots of random clips from the past when he was on tour/recording. Steve's in almost all of them, mostly in the background.

#WheresSteve becomes popular whenever Eddie posts something new, and if he's on live then he has to drag his long suffering hubby on camera so chat will be quiet (they just post lots of heart emojis, which confuses Steve so much because what has he done??).

[franzkafkagf]

I noticed that Aegon's fans are divided into two teams - the first one sees him as a completely heartless, almost psychopath, the other one like in this analysis.

https://www.tumblr.com/very-straight-blog/750648583572881408/it-really-tires-me-how-some-fans-try-to-make-aegon?source=share

What do you think about it and how do you see him?

Basically I've written a few things on him already; here, here and here as well as the many web weavings i have on him hihi <3

I see him as a super nuanced character; he is deeply (and I mean deeply) broken. That's why I love him, there's so much there in terms of characterization, even with the little screentime he had.

He is so desperate to be loved but destined to be hated by everyone around him (thank you tgc for this quote, lives rent-free in my mind forever)

Rhaenyra sees him as a threat (she has this fear that her father will replace her with him, someday)

Alicent deeply loves him but is too hard on him (she genuinely thinks all her sons will die if she doesn't make him king; he needs to be strong. strong for them, strong for her.

Aemond is resentful towards him. Resentful of his weakness. He has everything Aemond ever wanted. Why isn't he happy? He would be happy and grateful (he wouldn't).

Viserys wanted Baelon. He is not Baelon.

Forced to marry his sister, he never wanted this for them (in canon,,,, I'll live in my little helaegon delulu land)

He is the kicked dog of the family. He is the only one we see being physically reprimanded. It happens time and time again, this was a deliberate choice by the writers. All of Alicent's fears and grudges and love (ugly, desperate love, but still love) towards Rhaenyra are loaded onto him -> I wished we saw them interact, they are so alike :(

What does a kicked dog do? He runs back, tail between his legs. He tries so hard but somehow it doesn't work. He feels like a failure, he runs off, avoids the pain. He doesn't want to face his reality. He drinks, he indulges in anything that will make him forget

I did not ask for this. I've done everything you've asked me to, and I try so... I try so hard, but it will never be enough for you or father.

He acts out, engages in super self-destructive behaviour -> remember when the brothel madam said that Aegon doesn't go to nice places? It's like he is punishing himself.

I'll also have to speak about his assault; kind of a baffling writing choice to introduce him as a r*pist but it is in line with his characterization. He is a prince, of course he can take anything he wants, right? It was just harmless fun, right?

This behaviour doesn't stem from cruelty (like it did with Ramsay or Joffrey) it comes from the entitlement he feels. He might be the scapegoat of the family, but he is still a spoiled prince -> I actually love this about his character too. Purely good/purely victimized characters are BORING! He is interesting, there's both evil and good in him, he is so extremely complex I want to SCREAM.

I can see him going on an arc, not repent, but change. Grow into the man who can sway the people of Dragonstone to his side, grow into the role of king. Become the type of man who would rather live in pain than dull his senses with milk of the poppy. HIS ARC WILL BE INSANE!!!!!

I know a lot of fans want him to be less whiny, less pathetic, less grey… but honestly? He is perfect the way he is in the show. I genuinely love how he is written (I would've wished to see some interaction with his kiddos and Rhaenyra, that is all lmao) and I know he will be amazing in season 2.

[cursedvibes]

jjk having queer-coded villains seems to be an intentional choice. what are your thoughts on this

Honestly, I think the queer themes and characters we've gotten in jjk are pretty great. Yes, some of them are villains and that is a common harmful trope, but first of all it is not just the villains and second you have to look at how their queerness is portrayed and implemented into their characters.

We have characters like Kirara and Hakari and I think you can count Tengen too, who are queer(-coded) and not villains. Their queerness is pretty explicit in case of Kirara and Tengen with Kirara having clearly transitioned and being some flavour of trans and Tengen also openly stating she's lost interest in gender and is if anything a gnc woman. Queerness is also not their entire character, just one minor aspect of it that is honestly not that important. Tengen being responsible for the creation of jujutsu society and Kirara rebelling against the school and then choosing to aid the kids in the Culling Game is much more significant than their gender. Tengen corrects Yuki about being a man and then we move on, it is not actually a big deal. Yuki is more concerned with Tengen's actions than her gender.

The comment from Panda insisting that Kirara is a guy was weird, but it isn't brought up again, everyone just doesn't gender Kirara when seeing them without making a big deal about how "weird" it is for a presumed guy to have boobs like you might've expected in other pieces of media. The implication here I think is just that Panda hasn't seen Kirara in a while nor knows them very well. The comment was unnecessary in my opinion, you could've shown in a better way that Kirara transitioned, but the way it is treated afterwards makes it better. I think it especially helps that we see Hakari so accepting of Kirara, it is something normal and their relationship is loving. Kirara's gender or presumed sex is no issue at all between them and the other characters just roll with it too.

Same could be said for things like Geto and Gojo's relationship for example, the most prominent example of queer-coding in jjk as is also heavily displayed in marketing for season 2 of the anime. Obvious choice, they are by for the most popular ship and tapping into shipping sells. Their the sasunaru of jjk. I don't think you could call it queerbaiting though because contrary to sasunaru you don't have this "jk they both ended up marrying some random women like the heterosexual men they are" and there are literally no confirmed relationships in jjk anywhere except for the people who are married (and those usually don't love each other). stsg have as much ground to stand on as Kirara/Hakari or Muta/Miwa. They are milking that money cow, but with the way it is handled in canon, it doesn't bother me much ignoring their fanbase.

Another aspect we see in stsg that also applies to how we see queerness in some of the villains is that their relationship (of whatever nature that might be) is there to humanize both Gojo and Geto. There is actually some meaning to it, not just shipper bait or an insane villain being gay and that being included as another aspect of him being reproachful like you see with many Disney villains. Geto's bond with Gojo (and his family) is portrayed as the last bits of sanity left in him and also any criticism you'd leverage against that could apply to Gojo as well, a main character.

Similar with the queerness of the other villains. It is either an unimportant detail of their identity or it is actively used to humanize them. Uraume's gender is purposefully unconfirmed, nobody even makes any assumptions and that fact is about as important as their hair colour. It's just part of their identity, nothing more. It is not portrayed as predatory or used for any "trap" jokes. At least not in canon, the fandom is its own beast and I think their behaviour comes from what they are used to seeing in other media not due to anything done in jjk.

Kashimo falls into the same category of unconfirmed gender. Fans and some fantranslators assume Kashimo is a man based on what they looked like in the past, but it is actually never confirmed in the manga. Neither Hakari or anyone else ever genders Kashimo. There being no assumptions made or their possible gender or androgynous appearance discussed. People just roll with it and it isn't made to stand out in the story. I don't think you can even call Kashimo a villain, more like an antagonist similar to Higuruma was one with selfish morality. Their gender or appearance doesn't play into that at all.

With Kenjaku I guess you could see them taking over Kaori as predatory towards Jin, but it is played different than the common tropes. For one, Jin is as it seems aware of the change, just chooses to ignore it. It isn't played as a "man tricked other man into sex" or "man disguised as a woman", in fact the story goes quite out of its way to state that Kenjaku isn't (cis) male actually. Both Wasuke and Jin address Kenjaku as a women, even when they have suspicions. Kaori stays in some form with Kenjaku, she isn't just a cheap disguise and pregnancy overall is an important topic for Kenjaku both in good and bad ways. When Kenjaku says "thank you for getting along with my son" it is the first big step towards giving Kenjaku more depth than just them being a big bad mastermind. Kenjaku cares in some way for their child and doesn't just see him as a test subject. So the time in Kaori's body clearly had value to them as well beyond just getting a vessel for Sukuna. Same goes for their meeting with Takaba for example, which is the biggest example we got so far of Kenjaku being proven to care about other people and gaining depth through it. Their relationship with Tengen could count as well.

So the queer aspects we got of Kenjaku are there, but they aren't shown in canon to be something strange, quite the opposite usually. I think you see it best when you compare Kenjaku to Orochimaru, who clearly, as stated by Gege too, is a big influence for the character. Orochimaru has the body of a woman in the first part of the series, takes over the bodies of children and shows interest in Sasuke that is often seen as gay. Orochimaru is portrayed as predatory particularly towards children/boys, a persistent stereotype of gay and/or effeminate men as well as trans people. When Orochimaru reveals in the fight against Hiruzen that he inhabits the body of a woman, the characters around are disgusted and not only because this means another person's body was violated, the uncertainty of Orochimaru's gender unsettles them. You see the same thing in Boruto. Multiple characters make mean or disgusted comments about Orochimaru because they can't tell their gender and the whole "are you a man or a woman, a father or a mother" gets pushed a lot, often used as a joke. Mitsuki is being supportive and corrects people, but that doesn't stop Orochimaru's gender being brought up almost every time they feature in the series. "omg I can't tell this person's gender this is so weird and creepy" don't you have more pressing concerns like the fetuses swimming in those tanks or the human cloning?

Compared to that, Kenjaku is handled much better. There is no weird fixation on children, they have only taken over adults from what we've seen so far (due to the size of their brain and it being a real organ I think that is even a necessity) and the bodies are also mainly there for practical needs, Kenjaku isn't shown lusting after them no matter the person's gender. Choso goes from assuming Kenjaku is Yuuji's father to calling them a parent. It isn't commented on, we just assume Tengen informed him. Kenjaku being revealed to be Yuuji's mother isn't shocking because "wtf that's a man in a woman's body", it is more so about the implications of them being related. It is also used to show that Kenjaku is actually not a cis man (everyone at that time even doubting Wasuke uses she/her naturally with Kenjaku not objecting to it despite not really pretending to be Kaori) and by being his mother they have a closer personal connection to Yuuji. The fandom usually puts more harmful tropes into this moment than there actually are in the manga. I'm pretty sure Yuuji was more concerned about Kenjaku actually being related to him than Kenjaku being his mother aka exhibiting a gender he might not have expected. The "my father is your mother that's so mind-boggling and weird" is something that only exists in fandom. I don't see a reason why Choso or Yuuji would care and everyone else even less.

Takaba putting Kenjaku in a nurse outfit is also only portrayed as another fun part of their shenanigans, being neither overly sexualized nor seen as off-putting or weird. I think it was actually put there because Gege wanted to emphasize once more that having a female body doesn't unsettle Kenjaku, they see it as normal. It is part of their identity, but that itself isn't the thing being made fun of, it's a joke about sexy nurses that's detrimental to Takaba if anything.

In the same way, Kenjaku being pregnant with Tengen isn't made a big deal either beyond what it means for the Culling Game or the merger. It isn't a strange pregnant man, just another instance of pregnancy symbolism in this manga where cursed wombs are quite a common thing. And Kenjaku's whole deal is motherhood, birth and pregnancy down to the choice of their name, which is derived from an ambiguously gendered or Virgin Mary-adjacent bodhisattva. These pregnancy themes are shown as both a good thing and a bad thing depending on the context and not on principle as disgusting or bad. Kenjaku's gender fluidity has thematic relevance, but it isn't mocked or portrayed as bad by itself.

Beyond Uraume, Kenjaku and maybe Geto depending on how you look at it, I don't think there are any other queer-coded villains? Mahito was a high school girl for a juju sanpo, but that episode was more wholesome if anything and I think it was just there to show his fluidity in sex and gender. Once again not mocked or brought up as a reason for why he's evil (she isn't even that evil in that high school AU).

So yeah, I don't see a problem here, I actually wish more mangas or animes would portray queer characters this way. Make sure villains aren't the only queer characters, don't make queerness their entire character trait and treat the characters with respect.

[dearmantis]

A lost embrace

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/The Darkling x wife!Reader

Summary: You're not sure how long you can continue living like this. How long you can pretend that everything is alright. Like you can't feel your soul rotting in your chest.

Warnings: infidelity (?), betrayal, some Darkling slander (he deserves it), a hint of gaslighting, toxic relationship, mentioned smut (it's only 4 words, I can't write smut I'm so sorry), a tiny hint of suicidal thoughts, wishing for someone's death

Word Count: 1.2k

Authors' Note: There was a different ending to this that made it a bit darker and made him more possessive (and also made him a bit more of a romantic in a fucked up way?), but I didn't think anyone would really care for that, so I left it out. Also I'm not a native English speaker and this isnt edited.

Masterlist

You love your husband. You love him more than the moon, the stars and the saints, but you do not trust him.

You can't. Not since the sun summoner appeared in the Little Palace and Aleksander pushed you away like a simple inconvenience to make space for her.

She's a young girl who doesn't know any better. Someone who sees a husband betray his wife for her and sees it as something good, a compliment from him towards her. From her perspective you're an obstacle standing between her and the man who has been so welcoming and wonderful to her. She doesn't understand that you're not her enemy, that she fell for a trap designed specifically for her.

You see through it though. You see through it all.

You can't stop seeing.

The first time you mention the game the Shadow Summoner is playing with Alina he comforts and reassures you, his voice soft and familiar like freshly washed wool. He takes you in his arms, pressing your body close to his as he lists every reason why he married you. You fall asleep with your head on his chest that night, listening to his calm and steady heartbeat while his fingers draw patterns on your back.

Just to wake up all alone the next morning, finding out through Ivan that he went out to ride horses with the sun summoner, your heart dropping to the heart of the world.

The second time you bring his behaviour up, he's harsh and clearly annoyed by the fact that you haven't forgotten, that you're not giving up on his repeated behaviour despite how sweet he can be sometimes.

"You don't trust me? After two centuries of marriage, you can't trust me? I hunted down the very amplifiers keeping you alive, and now you believe I'm trying to replace you? You're insane."

The third time he's even harsher, voice awfully calm and cold has he speaks down to you. He reminds you so much of his own mother in that moment that you have to wonder if it's just time making him bitter and cruel, or if this part of him has always been there, slumbering in his chest like a bear in hibernation.

"You're too old for this childish jealousy."

But you can be just as cruel when you want to be.

"And you're too old and too married to chase the skirt of a scared little girl in front of all of Ravka, but here we are."

He sleeps in the war room after that night, the shadows that fill the room at his silent anger crawling through the space under the door into the bedroom, but you pay them no mind.

Every night you hope the darkness he unconsciously summons in his sleep scares him to death when he wakes up and frees you from this torment. Maybe he will be so scared he accidentally kills you too.

When Alina finally runs away, horrified by the truth of who and what Aleksander truly is, you don't even bother to act like you don't think he deserves this, like you don't pray that the young sun summoner disappears from the face of the world and never returns, leaving him to live through eternity alone.

No, you just stare at your husband, expression blank like freshly fallen snow, the words resting on your tongue stinging like acid when you finally speak.

"Your true equal wouldn't have left after finding out who you are. Your equal would've stayed to help with your plans, or done their best to kill you before you find out that they know your biggest secret."

Your words are a reminder of what happened when you found out about his true identity. You had discovered one of his diaries one day, reading it while he was out, scouting the area around the Little Palace because of a few recent Drüskelle sightings, and when he returned to your quarters and saw the open notebook on his desk, he thought you had fled.

Then he heard your quiet sobs and slowly stepped over to your shared bedroom, opening the door to reveal your shaking body on the bed, wrapped tightly in a blanket and hugging a pillow to your chest.

You were whimpering and crying like a wounded animal, and when he asked what happened you stared at him for a few seconds before loudly wailing, hysterically blabbering something about leaving him all alone after your death and how lonely and scared he must've been for most of his life. It was a pathetic sight to behold. A sight that he claims proved to him that he wants to spend the rest of eternity with you, or at least as long as you will let him stay at your side.

You're starting to doubt that now, obviously.

But when he returns to the Little Palace, almost on deaths doorstep, his body covered in wounds the healers have trouble healing, he turns into the soft, familiar Aleksander again. Your husband.

He's quiet, sweet, kind, and polite. He thanks you for putting up with him, for being his wife even after everything he has done. For accepting him for who he is. For staying.

He wakes up screaming occasionally, tears running down his face while he anxiously looks around and slowly realises that he's no longer dreaming.

He begs you to let him sleep next to you in your shared bed again, his eyes wet and filled with worry as if he's scared of being alone in the darkness of the night, and you give in, wrapping your arms around him as he presses his ear against your chest, waiting for the sound of your heartbeat to lull him to sleep.

Everything is like it was before Alina for a few weeks. You're glued together at the hips, spending every hour you can at each others sides. He kisses you, finishes inside of you, holds you while you sleep and helps you wash your hair, and you kiss every single one of his scars, your soft lips carefully touching the ink black lines covering his body, paying extra attention and love to those in his face.

It's the bare minimum, but after months of not receiving any of his affections you relish in his love the way the trees enjoy the first warm and bright day of spring after a brutal winter.

But despite all of that love there's a dark corner in your heart where a piece of your withering soul waits for the other shoe to drop, and when it finally does you can feel how the rest of your heart fills with rot and decay.

That kefta – that stupid, horrible piece of wasted fabric and stitching – is the reason. The reason for the tiny bit of darkness now sitting between your ribs.

You're already laying in bed, fluffing up the pillows and getting in position to cuddle with your husband, when Aleksander steps in, the golden treads on the clothing item shimmering in the light of the candle on your bedside table.

Jaw clenching slightly, you watch as he undresses, carefully hanging the kefta up in his wardrobe as if it is his most prized possession.

You don't know if it's an accident, or perhaps a sign from the universe, but he hangs it right in front of the kefta he married you in, covering the beautiful ink black fabric and it's intricate and complicated decorative stitching almost entirely from view. There's acid rising in your throat at the sight of it and it's many implications.

When he turns back to you, now in his pajamas, he seems to finally realise that something is wrong, his eyebrows furrowing as he looks at you. "Are you alright, milaya?"

You nod stiffly, laying down and pulling the blanket up to your chin. He doesn't question your behaviour further. He probably doesn't care, to be completely honest.

The Darkling joins you a few seconds later, bending over you to blow out your candle before dropping a single, short kiss onto your forehead.

That night he sleeps with his back turned to you for the first time since he returned from his near death encounter in the fold.

You don't mind it much, unable to sleep anyways as you stare at the back of his head and remember all the times he has rejected the idea of adding some of your grisha colour to his kefta.

"But I have black on my kefta. Why would it be so bad if you wore some of my colour as well?"

"That's different. The black protects you. It shows people not to touch you. If I wear your colour people are going to accuse me of favouring your grisha order over the others. I just want you to be save. I can do that by showing that you're mine."

You never want to see the colour black again.

Part 2: There's no love like our love

[apricotg0rl]

Wedding dresses and funerals 🕰️🪦📜

Tommy x reader

Genre: angst?

Word count: 540

Warnings: guns mentioned and blood as-well as a considerable age gap -forced marriage

(If there was a warning or something triggering I forgot to mention please message me so I can correct my mistake)

Side note: my small oneshot was inspired by this painting ‘signing the register’ 1920 by Edmond Blair Leighton as I feel it’s fitting once again towards the atmosphere of Tommys character and taking into the account of Mr Gold’s daughter and how arranged marriages have been a major topic of history and marriage was more a business arrangement than something to do with love.

So yeah if I got anything wrong tell me because I normally tend to not reread my writing out of embarrassment hence why the multiple incorrect grammar in the last post.

“And as I write this I scramble to find a drop of sincerity in this marriage and hope that I will find love within its contract that bind us together but deep within I mourn. Mourn for my innocence, mourn for the young girl who was promised jewels made from cut stone but here I stand with a ring stained with blood and the lives he took just to slip it on my raw fingers. “

After pondering at the scraps of paper Y/N carved into she looked around to see the presence of the monotonous man she was wedded off to.

“Will I just be another trophy for you to show off?” She asks with distain in her voice while dropping her head to the floor as she drowns in shame. “Or will I have a somewhat value to you other than being paraded around?” She knew her youth was a beneficial gain for him but the taboo circumstances circulating it left it to be unsaid leaving a lingering tension between the two and the spectators that had witnessed the ceremony. It was obvious that very little of his family agreed with the sickening idea as spiteful whispers lurked the halls of the house while she stayed locked up in her room suffocating in a ridiculous wedding dress.

“Can you just behave and come downstairs” tommy demanded while staring down the gaunt girl drowning in the white fabric that had her desperate for air as it clung tightly onto her skin.

“How can I possibly behave when I’ve been married off to a monster?!” She spat at him whilst attempting to soak up her translucent tears. Once her words reached his ears he wrinkled his nose in disgust “monster?!” He remarked at her tensed up expression and he took a glance at her following with an intense gaze at her heaving chest which resulted with a sharp pang of guilt.

“I am not to blame..it was your father who proposed the idea” he replied shaking his head in disbelief at the girls outlandish behaviour yet still acting like a child himself playing the silly game of who did it first.

Y/N’s jaw went slack at the idea of the very man who promised her own safety since her first breath selling her off to the next man who could “tame” her.

“I tried to take the responsibility but I can’t have my wife hating my very own existence and cursing the day I was born”

Y/N retched at his use of words and stood from her chair in pure disbelief that was now intertwined with venom. The assertive man stood within her eyeline and palmed the gun from his pocket and slammed it on the table infront of her looking for something other than contempt in her eyes. “If you want to take out your anger he’s downstairs with the rest of the family” he exclaimed, almost tempting her like the snake from the genesis story that had fooled Eve, as the choice of life and death rattled around her mind like a marble in a wheel.

“But if you decide to become vengeful you can no longer live on that pedestal that you look down on me from when blood is spilt on your hands” he spat as he roughly grabbed onto her shoulders trying to shake the insanity out of her that dwindled like a flickering candle flame.

“Is that what it takes to become a Shelby?”

[sansxfuckyou]

top 5 etho ships ? bonus points for any explanation

my personal top five in no particular order, and like, ya gotta understand im still new here (hermitcraft/life series) so my opinions are poised to change, but the current standings are:

Bdubs/Etho/Cleo, i'll be honest, i haven't written or read any clethubs, but i saw some art of them that made my brain shortcircuit. they are femdom, himbo, and twink. i just think that Etho should have two people who are stronger than he is on either side of him at all times, bonus points if you let Cleo be the tallest. Bdubs being super clingy, Etho reluctantly tagging along, and Cleo making sure they don't fucking die because yeah they are god damn idiots sometimes, but they're her idiots. and she loves them. and probably gives them noogies and headlocks them.

Cleo/Etho, their marriage in limlife is so much fucking fun, especially when read under an aro4allo lens. Etho whose been happily married for over a decade watching his friends enter relationships and realizing that he loves differently, he doesn't even love remotely close to how they love, love isn't even the right word. hes scared so he leaves, hes not doing it right and his wife must be upset about it, that must be why everythings crumbling. and Cleo, not giving two shits, because that's her husband and by god they're gonna make it work if he can realize that being absent is whats breaking up their marriage, not showing affection and intimacy differently.

Gem/Etho, as a canadian i am legally obligated to ship this, as a lesbian i love it when men have chaotic gremlin girlfriends who put them in their place. see that one episode of hermicraft wherein Gem beats his ass on repeat and he keeps coming back for more. its like, like theres an unspoken solidarity, 'hey we're the same even though we're not' and they stick with each other. predator/prey dynamic if you go with deer Gem and fox Etho, you also get it with sea monster Gem and fox Etho, except he's the prey and she has the biological advantage instead. also, when paired with the transfemme Etho headcanon we get some yuri which im always down for.

Grian/Etho, this one came to via an Ao3 commenter and i have seen two pieces of fanart for it and like, seven fics. but i still think the dynamic of bird and fox would be fun to work with in writing depending on the bird Grian is hybridized with, especially if Grian is the smaller one. also in limlife??? hello?? Etho, swearing loyalty and promising to be someones sword is not heterosexual behaviour. what they had in limlife, even if brief, had me shaking i'll be real. also, for their hermitcraft dynamic, it'd be hot if i threw Scar into the mix, for flavour.

Pearl/Etho/Tango, consensual workplace relationships make me absolutely insane, it could tear apart their business or bring it further together. they have the kind of dynamic that makes my head absolutely fucking empty, one of those 'i just think theyre neat' kind of ships. the culture clash between each of their species and their own personal tastes, Tango's a blaze and they mate for life, Pearl's a siren and they don't do much for romance, Etho's a fox and they come and go- but they make it happen in spite of that. im working on getting them a canonized Ao3 tag right now, they have such a fun dynamic. also, they fucked in that post office when no one was looking.

tbh these are all really closely tied, and i also have a soft spot for tangtho and the team ties poly. they're all really fun ships, i just really enjoy polyships to be real with ya'll. and the life series and hermitcraft are full of so many possible polyships that its just making me foam at the fucking mouth. sorry boat boys enjoyers, the vision has not yet engulfed me, but hey im a multishipper it might be yet to happen.

[beautifulpersonpeach]

Hello BPP,

I've been a BTS addict for more than a year now, and I'm trying to find the reason why me (a happily married and a mother of a wonderful teenage boy) became so obsessed with a boy group. Before my encounter with these young korean lads, I only bought albums from 5 artists: Enya (all of her albums, I 💖 her since 1995), Michael Jackson (some), Backstreet boys (sue me those were my teenage years), ABBA & QUEEN greatest hits. That's not much isn'it? But since 2023, I try to buy at least one BTS album every 6 months, and that in itself is HUGE for me. Why do I do that ? What do they do, more than others, to make me want to spend money on them?

I've never been interested in fan voting before and now, I try to vote everytime I can. Even I find myself insane, but I can't help it. I want to support them all the way... 🤯

At first my husband thought my obsession was temporary, but after a year, despite of making fun of me, he's trying to find BTS albums or else for me (what a sweetheart 🥰). He supports me but doesn't understand it either.

So a simple question : what make BTS so addictive?

Their stage presence, charisma, uniqueness, talent ?

For a few weeks I tried to come up with a clear answer but I can't formulate it... daeng...

According to you, what distinguesh them from others groups or artists ?

Bisous et heureuse de vous lire!

***

You have no idea how happy it made me to read you love Enya as well. That woman is a timeless treasure. And yeah she's one of the few artists aside from BTS whose music I've invested time and money into collecting.

Part of what you're asking is: what makes us spend money, time, resources, emotional labour, and more, on seven men halfway (maybe?) across the ocean from us?

"Even I find myself insane, but I can't help it. I want to support them all the way..."

Maybe we are insane. What's so wrong with that? Maybe we're kinda nuts to be so taken by these seven guys. So what?

Or maybe we're just suckers for good marketing. I know I am. Of course, other things matter as well but good marketing is something that BTS has down pat. It's kinda easy for them too because the guys are as authentic as they come around these parts. They're solid. There's no other group that could withstand the kind of scrutiny they're under without bucking. Not one. And incidentally BTS' musical talent is peerless.

So, yeah, the marketing. :)

Or maybe it's the fandom... That's the thing about fandoms - the reason fandoms exist is not for the idol, but for other fans. 90% of what people do here is discuss what other fans are doing. Not the music, not the performance, not even the idol themselves, but other fans doing fuck all. I'm not saying this to indict you. My point is that there is constant covert persuasion within the fandom to act like the rest of the group a.k.a. ARMYs. I keep saying fandom is a pressure cooker environment, and one way that shows up is covertly forming behaviours in people within the shared space/group, and if you haven't experienced being in big fandoms before it will be overwhelming. If you constantly see people who express their love for BTS by buying albums routinely, then it's easy to see how you might want to try it for yourself.

Because you do love BTS. At the end of the day, that's what it comes down to. I don't care to try to explain why. At least not for me. It might be their "stage presence, charisma, uniqueness, talent" as you said, or maybe they're just worth the love by being themselves and giving us the music and experiences they have so far.

I still get fever dreams remembering Agust D on tour last year, you know. I still remember what it felt like to hear his music live and see him perform. He was a beast. Buying his music sounds like a no brainer lol. And he's just one of seven similarly talented men together in one group. Their music is worthy of every award it ever gets. And their performances...

(There isn't a single group active today that has surpassed this video)

I've said before I followed BTS for years before calling myself an ARMY. Sometimes when I think about it, I'd been buying their albums regularly since 2015 - three years before I started calling myself a fan of BTS. Their music was just so good I couldn't ignore it. And this is when for most groups I'm so picky with buying albums.

I have to commend you for critically assessing (sort of) your desire to spend on BTS though. If we're indeed insane as we said above, it's better to be self-aware of the fact. So again, kudos for attempting to dissect what's really happening here. But, not to be preachy, I think it's important to also just let yourself enjoy things. If spending on BTS is coming ahead of meeting your basic needs and responsibilities, then listen to your gut and pull back. Go cold turkey if you need to and spend on nothing at all. But if that's not your experience, (and I don't think it is), then just let yourself enjoy loving them. In that case, it's enough to know BTS are phenomenal artists and good people who make us happy, and some of us have the desire, means and time to support them, and that's okay.

Isn't it enough that you enjoy BTS for whatever reason and want to sustain this thing you enjoy by investing into it? So long as you're prudent and resourceful? Or maybe... not? Nobody else's opinion matters anyway. It's your money and your time and you know best how to use it.

[mrs-monaghan]

Can you give me the difference of supporter and a shipper?

Does the supporter means they will support whatever they decide and move on? Do the supporters think there is something that's in jkk romantically? Or just their bond?

Shippers are very surface like. They don't truly believe that Jikook is real. Jikook is their favourite duo and they enjoy their moments and maybe some have managed to imagine Jikook are indeed a couple. But not really. It takes very little to change their minds about Jikook.

Shippers are just there to ship but they operate like Jikook are in a fanfic. They never treat them like real people. Some shippers are super Y/N too. U will find they are the ones who draw Jimin with a pu$$y instead of a dick like the man that he is. That way it assists in their fantasy of fucking JK.

They don't care much that Jikook are in the closet so they're the ones commenting Jeon Jimin under JK's lives. They're the ones tagging him under Jikook edits 😬😬😬 and they're the ones always spreading the halago photo despite how incriminating that photo is. I honestly think they think Jikook are just another ship from a Kdrama or some shit.

As for supporters most of us are in relationships or have ever been in rlships. Or at least have witnessed healthy relationships. It's why we stan Jikook to begin with. Because we saw the couple behaviour and we immediately knew something was sus.

Thats why I'm a bit concerned when some married tkkrs call themselves supporters and yet what they consider to be normal is JK ignoring V. It tracks with how u hear some of them complaining their husband has forgotten their anniversary for the 4th time in a row. Being cheated on is what these people know so they can accept how JK acts with Jimin infront of V coz they're getting that at home. It's quite sad when u think about it 🤔

Anyway anon, Jikook supporters most importantly understand what's at stake here. That's why it doesn't matter what incriminating thing they have on Jikook, it will never see the light of day. I suspect if Jikook ever stop hiding, these kisses and hand holds or cuddles will start popping up but until then people really be walking around acting like they don't have gold in their galleries. Damn. Mad respect to y'all thou.

A supporter understands that sometimes partners don't pick up their phones. So during this

When Jimin said he gets obsessive when JK doesn't answer his calls, while shippers latched onto the fact that JK sometimes doesn't pick up and started saying they were broken up, Supporters we latched onto the fact that Jimin gets obsessive with JK. 🥺🥺 It's cute as hell.

This year when there was no sign of Jikook together shippers were already dropping like flies. Meanwhile supporters we knew that didn't mean dick. In fact its insane to think that just because we don't see them 2gether that means they're not a couple anymore. I wanna use the R word but someone will prolly come for me if I do but that's how stupid I think that kind of reasoning is.

Anon, there is no way to answer this question in one sentence, so I hope you're getting my drift here. Supporters don't need to see to believe. All of us are walking around with the knowledge that Jikook were definitely together for JK's birthday. Shippers still think it didn't happen until proven otherwise.

I hope I answered your question. This is why we don't like being called shippers because they take Jikook way too lightly for our liking.

[that-gay-jedi]

im doubling down on shipping obikin after my friends called me gross. that is NOT a strictly father-son relationship it is the most confusing mix of feelings ever did we WATCH the same movies lmfao

Yeah there are some... western-centric elements to people automatically writing off master-padawan ships and shoehorning a religious order into westernized nuclear family roles is one of them. Only one of them I might add.

There's a really good post that goes around (I'm sure I reblogged it like... aeons ago) compiling a Twitter thread about how and why the master-apprentice bond turning sexual or romantic when they become equals is an established thing in some of the Asian cultures GL uhhh "borrowed" large parts of the Jedi from and specifically why obikin is not inherently deviant.

Although if writers want to select interpretations or source material wherein Anakin would have a complex, possessive, is-he-my-father-or-my-daddy relationship I'm not opposed (I have a post somewhere on the importance of defending deviancy, and how I could've easily been a self-hating anti if not for the exposure to various obikin voices, but as a mobile only tumblr it's unfindable lmao).

Ultimately (imho) the one common thread between all obikinville, regardless of individual preference for happy, tragic, codependent, wholesome, fluff, porn, kinky, vanilla, 1k word meta posts about their dynamic, fix it or break it more, etc etc etc, is that we're here for how insane they are about each other.

And there are a lot of ways those two are insane about each other, many of which are delicious in either a literary or a sexual fantasy sense (or both).

But back to your point yes the million trillion times when Anakin is NOT looking respectfully at Obi-Wan AT ALL, he spends more time undressing Obi-Wan with his eyes than he does Padme. That is noooot son behaviour. They can barely stop psychically fucking each other's brain-bussy long enough to fight this war.

And the 928768872796489282831 ways canon is like "THEY WERE SOULMATES!"

And yes they could platonically look at each other like the sole source of all that is good and bright in this universe (Force knows that's how I see my friends) and move in such perfect unison it's like they're one body and bicker like an old married couple but hey. They could also do that romantically. Sexually even. Queerplatonically. All the above.

[fairysluna]

The Conqueror's Crown | Masterlist.

GENERAL MASTERLIST > Here

ㅤ

STATUS: Complete.

PAIRING: Aegon II Targaryen x Fem!OC (Velaryon/Strong).

SUMMARY: After many years of secrecy, Aegon and Visaella's relationship was discovered just a few days prior the beginning of the Dance of the Dragons, unleashing the chaos and uncontrollable feelings that will do more harm than good. 

Part 1 — Old Valyrian Traditions

Tags/TW: angst, blood, smut (blood kink if u squint, p in v), aegon suffers a lot, cursing, incest (niece/uncle), cheating (aegon is married to helaena), toxic behaviour, daemon being a manipulator.

Part 2 — The Usurper

Tags/TW: angst, violence, blood mentions, sexual references, cursing, incest (niece/uncle), cheating (aegon is married to helaena), toxic behaviour, daemon and alicent being manipulators.

Part 3 — Shattered

Tags/TW: angst (like seriously a lot), murder (with fire), blood mentions, death of multiple characters, violence, birth, daemon being manipulative, incest (niece/uncle), toxic behaviour, grief.

Part 4 — Queen of the Ashes.

Tags/TW: death of multiple characters, blood mention, murder, angst, sexual content (nothing too explicit), death threats, grief, mentions of forced marriage, typical sexism of the time, visaella lost her mind, insanity (?), violence, cursing, aegon is emotially attached to the oc.

[bearfully]

A non-exhaustive list of moments in the Apothecary Diaries light novels that have made me lose my mind.

Spoilers up to volume 6 under the cut. For reference, the anime is on volume 2, and the manga is on volume 4.

Jinshi biting the fuck out Maomao's neck for no good reason??? Possessive dog behaviour.

Jinshi making a big deal about how he's disgusted by the thought of eating grasshoppers, and then eating some in the very same chapter just because Maomao spoonfed them to him (as a joke that she didn't expect to pay off). All in full-view of multiple witnesses.

Maomao betting herself in a drinking contest for 300 silver and Jinshi leaning over to whisper in her ear that she's a good deal (and Maomao's subsequent internal monologue about how Jinshi needs to learn how to haggle because she isn't worth that much). Sir, you've already bought her once.

Maomao's cousin/step-brother asking her if she'd ask Jinshi to impregnate her

This entire passage:

“Do you know why the Emperor’s younger brother specifically chose to bring you here?”

“I assume because I’m so useful.”

Rikuson placed one of his hands on Maomao’s hip and held her hand with the other—she saw that this was the western style, but it would have been unthinkable in the capital. Strange that it felt so ordinary here. Funny, what the right time and place could do. “True enough. But I think you could stand to have a slightly clearer sense of your own value,” Rikuson said, carefully maintaining his polite mode of speech. “It demonstrates the power of the La name at court.”

“I’m a base apothecary born in the pleasure district,” Maomao said bluntly. She didn’t know how much Rikuson knew, and she didn’t care. As far as she was concerned, this was the truth.

“That’s well and good. Just one thing, though.” Rikuson smiled again and glanced to the side, in the direction of the crowd. The beautiful man at the center of it was looking directly at them. “Please remember that you aren’t a disinterested third party. Never forget the import of what you wear on your head.”

Does he mean the hair stick? she thought, but Rikuson was already taking her hand; he brought her fingers slowly to his lips and kissed them.

Jinshi STRANGLING Maomao before telling her he wants to marry her. Freak4freak.

Also Maomao's panic response to this entire situation apparently being to kiss the man and run

Jinshi bribing and tickling Maomao to get her to marry him??? I wasn't expecting the light novels to touch on marriage (or romance at all aside from Jinshi's massive crush) so that fact that he just comes out and begs Maomao to marry him is insane. Ultimate sad little meow meow of a man.

[shewhotellsstories]

It’s crazy ironic how you go on and on about how “Penelope stans call Eloise a white feminist/criticise her/etc to bring up their fav (Penelope)” when literally all u do is criticise Penelope as a half baked attempt at defending Eloise.

Let me be clear - I am not a Penelope fan. I do not like her, and I fully agree with your criticisms of her. That said, it’s ridiculous how pretty much ur only method of responding to Eloise crit is by bringing up things Penelope has done. Like, they are two different people. Penelope’s bad behaviour does not in fact have any bearing on how Eloise should be examined.

And all this while constantly complaining about the same damn thing u urself are doing ??? Insane levels of hypocrisy honestly

You know, I went a good chunk of the summer without getting any obnoxious anon messages. But all good things must come to an end, and of course, the peace would end over Regency Era Perez Hilton. So let's get into this anon.

If you've read my blog you'll see that my issues with Penelope Featherington pre-date her falling out with Eloise. I've said I think she punches down quite a lot. I've said I find it wildly unethical that her stans call what she does "reporting" because reporters have ethics, editors, a responsibility to fact-check, and ways of being held accountable if/when we get something wrong. When you're hiding behind a pseudonym and printing whispers and rumors as fact, with no way of verifying if it's truth that's just not happening. Additionally, at the end of season one after the reveal I posted that I didn't think Penelope's hurt feelings over an unrequited crush were as serious as the threat facing Marina as an unmarried pregnant girl (google fallen women, they tend not to live long). I don't think that Colin deserved to be tricked, but given the alternatives of a lifetime of poverty or being married off to a creep twice your age who approaches an engagement the same way a person purchases a horse, I understand why the desperate 17-year-old pursued the boy her own age who she knew would at least treat her well. Not only that, but I said I found it gross that she was smiling in Marina's face while having exposed her secret in the cruelest way possible.

Here's another Eloise-free critique of Penelope, she's the worst kind of mean girl, the kind with a victim complex who wants to do nasty things while still being seen as an angel who can do no wrong. Do you want another criticism of Penelope that has nothing to do with Eloise? I think it's icky that she mocked Kate for being a spinster and called one of the few Indian women on this show a beast. I heard that was in the books too, but fun fact, Black and brown people being compared to or flat-out called animals has a racist history and present. Despite the "Penelope woman of the working class people" song and dance, I pointed out that she's trying to stay in Madame Delacroix’s good graces because she can blow the whistle on her.

I've said, it annoys me that people behave as if Penelope's crush being unrequited is a terrible hardship that justifies all her misdeeds, when Colin has never been cruel to her about romantic feelings he doesn't know are there. Contrary to Penelope stans version of history he hasn't tried to lead her on or hurt her, he treats her like a friend and nothing more. In Queen Charlotte, I said it was a dick move to needle the Queen about her lack of heirs during her granddaughter's funeral.

Now, you're saying that I only use Eloise to criticize Penelope, but not only is that untrue it's devoid of context. I only started comparing Eloise and Penelope because after their falling out Penelope's stans started saying that Eloise was a privileged white feminist as a reason that Penelope's actions weren't wrong and why she had no right to feel betrayed. Eloise's feminism is flawed, there's a lot she hasn't considered because she's been sheltered. ICYMI, I pointed out that she failed to understand that due to their class differences, Theo was in more danger than she was because he didn't have a rich family nor the protection that comes with her surname. I even agreed with Theo getting frustrated with her because due to class he is vulnerable in a way she is not. Furthermore, when Penelope stans say Eloise is an entitled white feminist it's not really about what Eloise has done, it's said in service of absolving Penelope of any wrongdoing. I've pointed out that it's said as if in comparison Penelope is Audre Lorde and hasn't been almost as privileged as Eloise up until her father died.

I've said it before and I'll say it again. Who acts like more of an entitled white feminist. The girl who is ignorant or the girl slut shaming other women and notably hurting women of color for her own selfish gain? Elizabeth Cady Stanton and Susan B. Anthony would be proud. Sure, it's despicable that they used racism to gain support for women's suffrage and threw Fredrick Douglas under the bus, still wanting voting rights is less selfish than wanting the high and financial gain that comes with running an anonymous burn book.

Call me a hypocrite if you want but I've got the receipts to show I started criticizing Penelope way before she fell out with Eloise. And frankly, it's hypocritical of you not to realize that my Eloise and Penelope comparisons are a response to the "Eloise crit" that are just thinly layered Penelope apologism and revisionist history.

Have the day you deserve anon.