#your wife wants to know

[ephemeralsx]

so at one point in acosf cassian says that he hasn’t had sex in 2 years… but 2 years ago had to be shortly before the series started… WHO DID U FUCK CASSIAN?

[marzipanandminutiae]

thoughts on "tradwives" as a 19th-century social historian

It's great until it's not.

It's great until he develops an addiction and starts spending all the money on it.

It's great until you realize he's abusive and hid it long enough to get you totally in his power (happened to my great-great-aunt Irene).

It's great until he gets injured and can't work anymore.

It's great until he dies and your options are "learn a marketable skill fast" or "marry the first eligible man you can find."

It's great until he wants child #7 and your body just can't take another pregnancy, but you can't leave or risk desertion because he's your meal ticket.

It's great until he tries to make you run a brothel as a get-rich-quick scheme and deserts you when you refuse, leaving your sisters to desperately fundraise so your house doesn't get foreclosed on (happened to my great-great-aunt Mamie).

It's great until you want to leave but you can't. It's great until you want to do something else with your life but you can't. It's great. Until. It's. Not.

I won't lie to you and say nobody was ever happy that way. Plenty of women have been, and part of feminism is acknowledging that women have the right to choose that sort of life if they want to.

But flinging yourself into it wholeheartedly with no sort of safety net whatsoever, especially in a period where it's EXTREMELY easy for him to leave you- as it should be; no-fault divorce saves lives -is naive at best and dangerous at worst.

Have your own means of support. Keep your own bank account; we fought hard enough to be allowed them. Gods willing, you never need that safety net, but too many women have suffered because they needed it and it wasn't there.

[paperglader]

they really put alicent in bridgerton blue on the reunion and genuinely expected me to think that she didn’t in fact march all the way to dragonstone to get wifed up? bfr

[thesmokinpossum]

If My Body Could Speak, Blythe Baird | The Godfather, Mario Puzo | My Father's House, Sylvia Fraser | To The Daughter Who Secretly Longs For Her Mother’s Affection, Lynne Shako | Storms from Jupiter, Wanda Deglane | DO NOT REPLY, @filmnoirsbian

[rodolfoparras]

Pillow talk

Pairing: FTM! Peter B. Parker x Top Male Reader

Synopsis: In which Peter, a married man, gets off to the thought of being with someone other than his spouse

Content tags: 18+, MINORS DNI, emotional infidelity, cheating kink, pillow humping, masturbation, oral sex, Peter has a size kink, Peter being a bit of a pervert

A/n: as always pls excuse any mistakes I tried a new writing style here, also if you want you can listen to More Than Friends by Isabel LaRosa while reading this since it’s heavily inspired by it!

A tired sigh escapes Peter’s lips as his bones bleed into the sheets. The window’s cracked ajar, allowing cold autumn air to mingle with the smell of MJ’s perfume that’s lingering around in the room.

He’s stripped down to nothing but his tattered pink robe, searing skin exposed to the chilly sensation emitting from his wedding ring as it trails along the length of his body.

For the first time in a while Peter’s gotten some time alone.

MJ has taken Mayday for the day and left so that Peter could have the house to himself, claiming he’d been pent up for a while and supposedly needed a break.

Peter hadn’t argued against it but had instead taken the offer with grace since it’s true that he has been feeling pent up but not for the reason MJ thinks. Peter’s sure that if she knew the reason behind his recent behaviors she wouldn’t be so willing to help him.

For the last couple of weeks Peter’s been plagued with the realization that he didn’t hate his neighbor, not his next door neighbor because that man is a menace and Peter’s pretty sure the hate’s mutual.

Instead he’s come to the realization that he didn’t hate his neighbor on the floor below him, that neighbor being you.

At first he was sure that he hated you since you made his spider senses tingle, well at least that’s what he thought it was.

He’d first met you at a neighborhood block party. You had recently moved in or so he had heard and were more than eager to get acquainted with the neighbors for whatever reason.

You were lounging around in a lawn chair when he had first arrived with MJ and Mayday.

The poor thing threatened to give out under your weight but you paid it no mind as you entertained a conversation with a neighbor and nourished a beer in your hand.

When you rose to greet him, Peter noticed that you were a whole head taller than him so it was no wonder that you made his spider senses tingle.

He tried his best to ignore you but even when he couldn’t see you, he could smell you since you wore this stupid cologne that smelled stronger than anything MJ’s ever worn before and because of that he could always tell when you were lingering around.

If he thought that smelling and seeing you was bad then touching you was something else.

He’d purposely opted out of a handshake when you first greeted each other but that didn’t save his spider sense from going into overdrive after having your knees knock together while you were sat at the same table or having your elbows brush against each other while scooping up leftovers.

However even though you made his spider sense go off, Peter had quickly realized that you weren’t a threat, at least not a dangerous one.

You were friendly and always made sure to spark up a conversation with him, even when you'd be in a rush to something.

You’d go out your way to bring him any of his mail or packages that happened to be misplaced.

Hell you'd even baby sat Mayday a handful of times so it was safe to say you weren’t a threat. But for whatever reason Peter couldn’t seem to get you out of his head.

Especially after hearing your ever so polite voice protruding through his thin bedroom walls, your dirty words squeezing between his and Mj’s hushed conversations. Or seeing the way you basically engulfed whoever was in your arms but unlike the lawn chair they seemed to thrive from being in your embrace. And escaping the smell of your cologne turned out to be a hard feat since every other day someone would be prancing around in one of your shirts dozed in the smell of it.

He doesn’t even remember when he started making sure that he’d be the one to pick Mayday up from your house, just to see whatever lounge wear you’d be prancing around in that day and the bit of skin that always seemed to show through it.

He doesn’t remember when he started hoping that the mailman would misplace yet another letter or package just so that he could feel your calloused fingertips brushing against his as you handed him something.

He doesn’t even remember when he started biting his tongue just so he wouldn’t ask you who he had seen standing outside your door the previous night.

He shouldn’t be feeling like this. He has MJ and he has Mayday and as far as he knows he’s happy. He’s just pent up, like MJ had said.

It’s not like Peter and MJ don’t have sex. It’s just that she doesn’t do it for him, at least not anymore.

Every time they get intimate he’d have to fake an orgasm or jerk off after she’d gone to bed. Lately he’s even had to pretend to be asleep every time she tried to initiate something because he simply wasn’t up for it.

So he’d find other ways to entertain himself and one of the ways being with inappropriate thoughts of his neighbor.

And things kind of escalate from there not in the literal sense since you’re so fucking polite, wont even look at him twice, keeping a respectful distance to a man who has a kid and a wife.

But God Peter wishes that you did, so much so he imagines you pinning him to the bed, hip to hip, chest to chest, those strong arms and thighs caging him into the mattress

The tattered robe wrapped around his frame doesn’t compare to the way your body would feel on top of his. But he keeps it on anyway, closes his eyes and pretends that the hand leisurely dragging across his limbs is your body pushing down onto his.

He imagines the way your lips would slot together, hot breath washing over his cheek as you whisper dirty words to him.

A thumb finds his lips, teasingly tugging and taunting at the bottom lip. It feels nothing like your calloused fingertips but his tongue peaks past his lips, tasting the salty skin before sinking down on it.

He imagines how you’d tease and taunt him in that polite voice of yours that managed to whisper such dirty words, how you’d mock him for wanting to be fucked like a bitch in heat despite the wedding band digging into his skin, maybe you’d force him to say it just so that he hears it from his own lips or so that the whole neighborhood can hear how desperate he is.

He imagines you straddling his waist grinding into him while wearing nothing but your boxers, teasing him to point where he’s soaking through his own pair of underwear.

A hand slides down his chest, blunt nails dragging down his happy trail, only to stop at the fringe of curls atop of his cunt, tugging and taunting til he’s all worked up.

He imagines your long fingers thrusting into him , or making him finger himself while wearing his wedding band, prepping himself to be fucked by someone other than his spouse.

And God he’s already so wet, fingers easily coating in his arousal as he trails them up his cunt, and in that very moment he can't help but think how MJ never gets him like this.

But his fingers are not enough- this little fantasy of his is not enough but you’re too good to do anything about it so he rolls onto his stomach before propping the pillow between his legs, pretending it’s your face.

He imagines the bed creaking under your shared weight, and the way the smell of your cologne would engulf his senses. He imagines the way your calloused fingertips would sink into the supple skin of his thighs and the way your ever so polite voice would sound as you command him to properly sit down.

He starts moving slowly, rolling his hips cautiously, imagining the way your tongue would experimentally delve through his folds.

The pillow slides in between his folds, coarse fabric creating a steady pressure onto his engorged numb, not enough to overwhelm his senses but enough to send jolts of pleasure coursing through his body every time he moves his hips.

He imagines you wanting to take your time with him wanting to taste him, tongue licking a strip along his cunt up to his puffy clit where you’d continue to tease him until he’s begging and urging you to hurry before someone can find the two of you like this.

But you wouldn’t listen to him, wouldn’t care if anyone were to find you like this, hand slapping his ass in warning before you continued to do as you pleased.

His hand cups the globe of his cheek, much like the way you’d do it if you were with him, except his fingers feel nothing like yours. But the cold sensation from his ring as it slaps his searing skin sends sparks of pleasure coursing through his entire body and for one second it almost feels like you’re actually there with him.

The coarse fabric of the pillow case reminds him so much of your stubble and it’s so wrong but feels so right - the thought of being fucked by someone other than his wife as huffs and pants escape his lips, hips moving faster as he wanders back to his fantasy.

He imagines you having him so worked up to the point where Peter’s long forgotten about the fact that someone can just walk in on you two because the bed’s creaking and he’s loudly begging and pleading for you to stop teasing.

Eventually you'd take pity on him, showing him mercy by properly latching onto his puffy clit, eagerly suckling on it before tonguing his hole.

He adjusts his hips, and the angle in which the pillow hits his clit changes slightly, and intensifies the sensation along with it.

“Oh- oh fuck!” He squeals out, toes curling as he throws his head back.

He imagines the way you’d easily have him teetering on the edge of his release with Peter begging and pleading for you to let him finish.

He can almost taste it, can hear the Squelching sounds mingling with the sound of needy noises escaping his lips. He can even smell his arousal: strong and heady, knowing he’s probably stained the pillow under him and will need to wash it before MJ comes back but for now he can’t find it in himself to care.

He’s so close, needs just a bit more -and that’s when he picks up on the sound of your footsteps walking up the stairs, smells the scent of your cologne bleeding into the air.

You must be on your way to his apartment to bring yet another misplaced package.

And Peter knows it’s wrong but it feels so right, feels himself tip over the edge as you read what’s written on the parcel, out loud

“To Peter B. Parker, please handle with care”

[moeblob]

I love Chris so much you guys.

[codyanskaya]

Thank you to @dailyarturiartfgo for this great commission of me and Koyanskaya in her FGO Fes outfit!

She said it looked perfect for a beach date and I heartily agree. Here’s to 9 years of Fate Grand Order!

[wellijustfinnihedoneofthebooks]

I understand why everyones so mad about five x lila (i dont like it either) BUT i do think the setup of it (lost in time with no one else to rely on, protecting eachother, ect) would probably make five fall in love with just about anyone. Just like, this is kind of what he always imagined having with deloras. So i dont fully agree with the wide consensus that its out of character for him to fuck his brothers wife (in this specific scenario)

That being said, he absolutely wouldnt give up on his family over it.

[cloudydoesstuff]

yall I just had a dream that’s the perfect crack fic. Basically, Vader gets teleported into the clone wars where the 501st and the 212th are fighting. Once Vader gets there all comms go down so they’re essentially stuck on the planet. Anakin meets Vader, bickering ensues

One particular scene I had in mind:

Anakin and Vader: *walking in silence*

Anakin: Could you stop kriffing breathing like that? It’s getting on my nerves

Vader: No.

Anakin: *sighs*

It’s at times like these I wish I could be a creative writer but alas I must stay unintentionally dreaming crackfics

[devastatinglygreen]

when the wife guy of your heart is an actual wife guy, i now know peace. rip to alfredo penguin but colin bridgerton is different

[moongothic]

Seen a few people too many discuss the concept of Dragodile Baby 2 and my hot take is that there's no way in hell Crocodile would ever detransition just to go through nine months of horrible dysphoria again, let alone go through pregnancy ever again (or allow Ivankov to even touch him, what if they died and weren't able to trans Croc's gender again afterwards? Hell naw, ain't worth the risk)

But this leaves an opportunity for a Funnier Option:

Dragon wants another baby? Sure, but it's his turn to carry it >:)

[silverspleen]

STUPID SHIP MEME DRAWINGS.

I just think they should kiss maybe?

Obsessed (positive??) with the dynamic of guy who betrays his country so he can run off with the militia he's been working with because he gets a case of loyalty feelings so bad he goes and blows himself up X morally upstanding traumatic backstory woman having the worst fucking time of her life (again) who really just needs someone to be as fanatically loyal as possible to her, as a person who is really into the inherent eroticism of the hierarchical military power dynamic focus on loyalty and the use of "yes ma'am" as I love you.

Obsessed (negative) with the propaganda implications that we seem to have ignored of the fact that the three most important people in an arabic woman's life are 2 (two) white guys and her brother, who betrays her and becomes a villain in the later games, and the fucking insidious-ass narrative choice of placing one of said white guys in said militia as like, the tacit fact that this organization is ok only because the western white guys are cool with it. Stop introducing more ULF people just to kill them!!! I SEE YOU WRITERS!!! YOU CAN'T HIDE FROM ME!!!!!!

because, once again, the character dynamic? I am sick for it. He dropped a building on himself for her and then came back???? He came back???? He could have gone anywhere but he came back to her???? I'm unwell. I think I have covid. I need to go lie down.

Anyway my city now my characters now smashing them together like barbies watching that .gif of them staring at each other eighty times reading all the fanfiction goodbye

you shouldn't blow yourself up in the furnace I want to blow myself up in the furnace for you as my own personal choice and you should order me to do it because you're such a good leader what is wrong with youuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrgh *gnaws on furniture*

WE DON'T EVEN GET TO SEE HIM COME BACK TO HER. THANK YOU FIC WRITERS YOU KNOW THAT REUNION MUST BE SO ANGST THE COMPLEX DYNAMIC OF SACRIFICING YOURSELF FOR SOMEONE AND MAKING IT OUT AND BACK TO THEM AGAIN!!!!!!! THE GUILT! THE YEARNING! THE LOYALTY! I AM GOING TO EXPLODE.

[petrovna-zamo]

[outism-had-a-purpose]

PENELOPE???? PENELOPE CRUMB AT THIS VERY EVENT???!!?!?!

[miekasa]

the second you get back from your honeymoon, satoru is so quick to pay for a service that will expedite the process of changing your last name. he’ll pay them triple if they can get it done by next week. in his head, you’ve been a gojo since the moment he asked you out, but now that it’s finally, truly official, he needs everyone to know.

it’s, surprisingly, less of a possessive thing (tho that’s definitely a factor), and more of a…. look, i’m actually married; i actually have someone who’s choosing to stick by my side through thick and thin and better or worse and so many people thought i’d never find someone to put up with me but i did so fuck you. the ring on your finger says that too, but something about you bearing his last name makes it loud and clear for him, and satoru needs the message to be on blast for others too. it’s the last stamp to proving to himself that you really have him, that you really want him forever—that you’re gonna take his last name as keepsake and everyone will know that satoru gojo found someone who’s vowed to keep him near and dear to them.

[miyeosin]

"i clean your room it's so Tinky-Winky, want me your wife but she is, po Po po" - Dipsy, probably

[ cr. lovememore. ]