#I just found about this show and I'm obsessed

[wisecura]

Sheets

megumi fushiguro x fem-reader

p.1  ( ⸝⸝꩜ ᯅ ꩜⸝⸝;) p.2

AN: this is still being edited and I'm not entirely sure if it'll be everyone's cup of tea. it'll be a slow burn, and a long fic but I have an idea laid out! each chapter will be around 3k just to keep things spaced and easy. Thank you for reading!

warnings: i'm putting these here for future chapters too, and ill sprinkle some in as I go. I want to make it clear, there is no underage sex, but later on there will be some more raunchy shit. this is somewhat non-canon compliant-make it up as I go

-ok for the real warnings: yandere, obsessive behavior, possessiveness, mommy kinks, mommy issues, arranged marriages, forced marriages, angst, eventual smut, clan politics, age gap (5 years from meg, and a little over 10 with toji), toji aint the best dad, mentions of child abuse, slowww build. I'm already 20,000 words into this shit so if your ready lets ride.

Short summary: Your arranged marriage to Toji Fushiguro had been sudden and unexpected, but now you found yourself living under his roof alongside his moody stepson. Your only directive from your clan head before moving in was clear: keep a close eye on Toji, the notorious Sorcerer Killer, and his son, a potential sorcerer prodigy.

Lets Begin

Your arranged marriage with Toji Fushiguro had been quick and unexpected.

The black sheep of the Zenin clan wasn’t exactly known for his well-rounded reputation, teetering on the edge of severing all ties to his family. He hadn’t been in contact with them for years, and financial support from their end was nonexistent. He was constantly broke, especially after Megumi was born. He assumed it was retaliation for marrying outside the clan—without their approval. But when his late wife passed, he had already taken on her surname, somewhat severing himself from the dingy clan he had once called "family."

After her death, he picked up side gigs, earning just enough to provide for the two of them. Megumi was older now, around thirteen, which made it easier to leave him alone for longer periods. Toji often took days-long "business" trips. He’ll admit he wasn’t a great father, but he had kept his promise of keeping Megumi away from the Zenin clan and that sorcerer bullshit.

That was until he received an official notification from the Zenin clan head.

He hadn’t heard from the bastard in years, only to be met with a request—a demand—for his compliance in an arranged marriage. Initially, he planned to refuse. He wasn’t interested in an arranged marriage, wanted nothing to do with the sorcerer world, and even less to do with the Zenin clan. Hell, the only reason he bothered showing up at the clan house that day was to set that fucker straight.

Then he saw you—a pretty little thing. You couldn’t have been more than ten years younger than him, likely just turning seventeen, maybe eighteen. He couldn’t say for sure. But you were just too young for this shit—he knew that much.

They’d already brought you along for the proposal, as if they knew it would change his mind when he saw you. And, fuck, if they weren’t right.

You were beautiful. Polished and respectable, speaking in low tones like the proper little housewife he was sure they’d trained you to be. He could see the endgame here—the reason they were pushing this arrangement on him. It wasn’t subtle.

The higher-ups likely wanted a presence in his home—someone to keep tabs on him and Megumi, no doubt. They hadn’t explicitly stated as much, but Toji had caught whispers through the grapevine about their interest in his son’s cursed technique. And with his own tendency to remain elusive, it wasn’t surprising that they’d want to keep a closer watch on him, too.

The thought of them using someone barely older than Megumi to achieve their goals left a bitter taste in his mouth. The arrangement reeked of manipulation—a calculated ploy to plant a spy in his home, someone to funnel information back to your clan, his clan, and the higher-ups that were still keeping tabs on him.

Toji didn’t give a damn about his reputation, but it was clear they were fishing for confirmation, likely hoping to uncover whether some of the rumors about him were true. No matter how much he tried to brush it off, the whole setup just didn’t sit right with him.

But then he caught the way your eyes stayed steady, resolute. You looked indifferent to the situation, but he could tell this wasn’t what you wanted. It couldn’t be. You were really just a child. And yet, that unwavering expression of yours sealed his decision.

He accepted.

Another mouth to feed, another brat to deal with, no doubt. But maybe, just maybe, you’d be able to help keep Megumi in line while he was out working. Better that than leaving you to the wolves. He understood the clan system all too well—how they saw their women, how they treated them.

He’d seen how young brides were shuffled like pawns, paired with whichever man could best serve the clan’s interests. The thought of you being handed off to some pathetic bastard made his stomach churn. At least here, under his roof, you wouldn’t have to endure that.

Call it generosity if you wanted. But if he were honest, it wasn’t that. You reminded him of his late wife—the fearlessness bordering on defiance in your eyes, the sheer willpower it must’ve taken to show up in the first place. Most girls in your situation would have cried or begged, pleading not to marry some old geezer, especially one infamous in the community as a Sorcerer Killer.

But you didn’t beg. Didn’t cry. You just stood there, composed, unshaken. Bored. 

He could respect that.

And like that, the black sheep of the Zenin clan would become your husband. Your family. And your sole protector. 

He remembers the quiet way you stepped into his apartment for the first time, your gaze sweeping the room with a calm, measured air. There was no hesitation, no unease—just a quiet assessment of the space, as though you were cataloging everything in that sharp mind of yours. The look on your face didn’t suit someone your age. You carried the weight of forced maturity, a burden that stirred an old, painful memory he immediately shoved back down.

He could tell you were judging, though you didn’t say a word. It was in the faint crease of your brow, the almost imperceptible way your lips tightened. It sparked a flicker of irritation in him, the kind he couldn’t entirely shake. If you didn’t like it, you didn’t have to stay, yeah? 

But Toji was surprised when you didn’t say a word. Finding your way to his bedroom, You set your things down without complaint or hesitation. Then, as if you’d been living there for years, you got straight to work. No requests, no questions—just quiet purpose.

It was like you’d already claimed your space, like you’d accepted the role handed to you without a second thought. Color him impressed. He wasn't necessarily gonna ask you to do all that, but hell he wasn't going to complain. 

Your former clan must’ve trained you well. He could see it in the efficiency of your movements, the way you moved through the apartment as though it were second nature. No hesitation, no asking for instructions, no unnecessary chatter. Just straight down to business.

Toji didn’t linger.

He slipped out quietly, already lost in his thoughts about the job he had to handle. He’d be gone for two days—maybe one, if he played his cards right. Not that he needed to tell you. You didn’t need to know the details. You were here to stay put, to take care of things while he was gone. Simple as that.

As he rounded the corner outside the apartment, that nagging feeling crept in—a vague itch at the back of his mind, like he was forgetting something. He paused mid-step, frowning as he patted his pockets. Wallet? Keys? No, he had those. His smirk faltered for a moment, but he quickly shrugged it off, muttering under his breath.

"Can't be that important."

Megumi had taken the long way home today.

Several boys in his class had been pissing him off to no end, and he’d been itching for a fight. He needed a distraction—something to cool him off. He really couldn’t afford to get into another school fight. The pitying looks his teachers gave him felt degrading, especially when Toji never bothered to show and pick him up.

The long way home was scenic, at least. Trees and plants lined the path, offering some peace as he trudged along. He wasn’t sure whether Toji would even be home when he arrived. He never really knew for certain. And honestly, Megumi wasn’t in the mood to hear his dad’s loud TV shows or his obnoxious phone calls. If he wasn’t, then the apartment would just be empty, cold, and silent.

Either way, it didn’t matter.

What Megumi really cared about was dinner.

The fridge had been empty for weeks, and his deadbeat dad hadn’t bothered to restock it. Megumi had been scraping by, finding ways to earn enough cash for food. Sometimes he’d deliver things for the neighbors or help them with spring cleaning. Those odd jobs usually kept him going, but lately, there hadn’t been any requests. The lack of work only adding to his frustration.

He didn’t interact with Toji much. Their relationship walked a thin line between hatred and indifference.  Most of the time, Megumi ignored his father, much as Toji seemed to ignore him. On the rare occasions Toji remembered Megumi existed, it always ended in chaos���loud arguments, dismissive grunts, or worse, painfully awkward attempts to act like a parent.

It had been that way ever since Megumi turned eleven. And today, more than anything, he was just hungry. Too hungry to fight with his absentee father, even if he was home. Too tired to care.

Walking up the stairs to his apartment, something caught his eye. The kitchen window was open. That stopped him in his tracks.

Toji wasn’t the kind of guy to leave windows open, even in decent weather—a weird thing to notice, but Megumi was always acutely aware of his surroundings, always attuned to his father’s patterns.

Megumi made his way inside, creeping slowly and so, so quietly. Peeking around the corner, he froze. Someone was in the kitchen—a girl. No, a woman? Your back was to him as you worked at the counter, slicing onions with quick, precise movements. He blinked, his sharp eyes narrowing. You were young—maybe just a few years older than him.

Younger than Toji’s usual type, that was for sure. You didn’t fit. Toji wasn’t a stranger to bringing women around the apartment, but they never looked like you. And they never lingered. Most were gone by breakfast, hurrying out with an awkward smile and a strained “bye” when they spotted Megumi at the table.

He watched you chop onions, noticing the glint of a ring on your finger. So, you were married—

“You can come out from there, y’know.”

Megumi flinched slightly, caught off guard. For a brief moment, he felt the sting of embarrassment—spying and getting caught wasn’t a good look—but he quickly reminded himself this was his home. He had no reason to feel embarrassed. Straightening his posture, he stepped out from behind the doorway, his sharp eyes fixed on you as you casually wiped your hands on a towel.

You turned to face him, a soft smile playing on your lips. The first thing he noticed was how pretty you were. Tall and poised, you stood at least a head above him, dressed in modest, traditional clothing that seemed entirely out of place in this shabby apartment. There was something elegant about you, a kind of refinement that felt worlds away from the usual chaos of his father’s one-night stands.

“Who are you? Why’re you here?” His tone came out sharper than he intended, huffy and childish, and it made him bristle. He hated how it sounded.

You studied him for a moment, his scowl almost endearing, before introducing yourself and explaining, simply, that this was now your house.

Megumi’s brow furrowed, and he crossed his arms, his voice defiant. “You don’t live here. Leave.”

The attempt at a threat would’ve been more intimidating if his stomach hadn’t chosen that moment to growl, breaking the tension. You bit back a laugh, quickly covering your mouth, but it was hard not to find the situation entertaining.

The way he stood there, furrowed brow and stubborn glare, reminded you of a fussy kitten—all bristling fur and misplaced bravado. It was clear he wasn’t used to strangers lingering in his space, and his defensiveness only made him seem more adorable. Still, he was serious—you really shouldn’t laugh.

He looked so much like Toji—same sharp features, same brooding energy—minus the flat hair and scar. You’d heard about him before coming here, mentioned briefly by your clan head, but the reality of meeting him was different. He was much cuter than you’d expected, truly embodying the “fussy kitty” vibe, and you had to resist the urge to tease him outright.

“Ah,” you said lightly, your tone soothing, “but I’m in the middle of cooking. Why don’t we eat first, and then we can talk?”

Your tone was gentle, your smile genuine, and Megumi couldn’t sense any malice from you. Besides, whatever you were making smelled incredible, and his stomach had been growling from the moment he walked in. His gaze shifted to the counter, where ingredients and half-prepped dishes were laid out. He hesitated. Sure, his dad had brought women home before, but none of them ever bothered to cook—especially not for him. Against his better judgment, he gave a small, reluctant nod.

Before long, the two of you were sitting at the kitchen table, three plates set neatly in front of you. It was late, but you still held onto the hope that Toji might come home. You made light conversation with Megumi, trying to get a feel for the boy you now understood to be your stepson.

You’d been briefed by your clan about Toji and his son—vague instructions to “watch Toji” and “get on his son's good side.” They hadn’t been specific about why, but their motives were never selfless. Still, you had no intention of playing into their games. Not fully. What you wanted was to build an honest connection with your new family, especially with this grumpy, sharp-eyed boy who seemed to have a chip on his shoulder as big as his father’s.

As the meal went on, you began to learn little things about him. He remained distant, his responses clipped and matter-of-fact, but the warmth of a good meal and your gentle smile seemed to soften him, even if just slightly. You managed to coax his name out of him, and though he said it without much fanfare, it felt like a small victory.

It wasn’t much, but it was a start.

It was a Friday night, and you figured Megumi would be around the house tomorrow. As you finished the surprisingly comfortable dinner, your eyes lingered on the third, untouched plate at the table—Toji’s. You wondered, briefly, if he’d show up at all.

“He probably won’t be back tonight,” Megumi said, breaking your train of thought. His voice was matter-of-fact, as if he had long since grown used to this routine. He shoveled another spoonful of food into his mouth before adding, “Probably be gone for a few days.”

This surprised you, sure, but you weren’t going to complain anytime soon. As long as you didn’t have to go back to that horrid clan house, you could put up with a missing husband. In fact, you kind of preferred it this way.

You laughed softly at Megumi’s puffed-up cheeks, making him flush red as he swallowed quickly. Your smile still seemed to throw him off guard. The conversation flowed easily—a mix of lighthearted bickering and probing questions on both ends.

“What’s the ring for?” he asked suddenly, his sharp gaze flicking to your hand. His tone was casual, but there was an underlying curiosity, as if he hadn’t noticed the simple band until now.

Your fingers instinctively twisted the warm metal as you glanced down at it, the question catching you off guard. “Ah, well, I’ve just married,” you replied softly, your voice carrying a faint melancholy despite your attempt to sound neutral. You hadn’t meant to let that slip, but the truth clung to the edges of your words. Quickly, you smiled, lightening the moment as you reached over to ladle another spoonful of food onto Megumi’s empty plate.

“Arranged marriage? With who?” he asked, the concept not foreign but undeniably unsettling. You seemed like such a nice person, except for the fact that you were sitting in his kitchen—someone he’d assumed was just another one of his father’s passing flings. But unlike the others, you’d cooked for him and his father, cleaned the kitchen until it looked better than it had in weeks, and now you were sitting down to dinner with him like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Though he’d only known you for a few hours, he didn’t think you’d be the type to cheat on your husband or worm your way into their lives without cause. His mind caught up to him, the pieces falling into place.

“…Not Toji. Right?” His voice faltered, and you couldn’t help but think how strange it was to hear him refer to his father by his first name.

You let out a soft laugh at his shocked expression, shaking your head before nodding. “The one and only,” you admitted.

The look on his face was almost comical, his brows raised high, his mouth slightly agape. But beneath the initial surprise, there was something darker—an unease that settled into the lines of his frown. Wary, guarded. He didn’t like this, not one bit. 

After dinner, you sent Megumi off to bed, tidying up the plates left behind. He didn’t wait for you to finish cleaning, retreating to his room with his thoughts spinning.

As he lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling, he couldn’t stop replaying the conversation in his head. His father was married—to you, of all people. And for some reason, that knowledge left a bitter taste in his mouth.

It was weird. Megumi had left the house empty and returned to find you. If what you were saying was true, you were about to take over as his stepmother. He wouldn’t put it past his shitty father to pop up suddenly married—it was exactly the kind of thing Toji would do.

Still, the whole situation didn’t sit right with him. An arranged marriage wasn’t out of the question. You seemed way too sweet and proper to have chosen someone like Toji willingly. Megumi’s knowledge of clan life, hierarchy, or how arranged marriages worked in the sorcerer world was frustratingly limited, thanks to his father’s insistence on keeping him far removed from all of it. 

Then there was your age. You were young—too young for his dad. Closer to his age than Toji’s. The thought churned his stomach. Was Toji an even bigger pervert than he originally thought? He didn’t seem like the kind of guy to want to settle down. What was this about, then? Did he just want a housemaid? Someone to clean up after him and Megumi while he went off on his “business trips”?

It didn’t seem fair to you. What were you getting out of this arrangement? What could have possibly led you to agree to marry someone like Toji?

The more Megumi thought about it, the more wrong it all felt. You seemed too kind, too proper, too... normal for this situation. Surely there was more to the story. Were you being forced into this? Did you have your own reasons that you weren’t sharing?

But then again, there was always the chance you were lying.

People lied all the time. You could be some psycho ex-girlfriend worming your way back into his father’s life. Or worse, a manipulative stranger with motives that had nothing to do with Toji at all. You might’ve seemed nice now, but Megumi wasn’t about to take anything at face value.

He sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the wall, his thoughts racing. He didn’t know what to make of you, couldn’t figure out whether to trust the calm sincerity you projected or to see it for what it might be: a well-crafted facade.

One thing was certain—he wasn’t going to let his guard down so easily.

He’d just have to wait it out, keep an eye on you, and see what happened when Toji finally dragged his ass back home.

p.2?

AN: Thank you for reading! Please reblog and like if you enjoy this series!

[okiedokrie]

All Is Fair In Love And War Pt.1

Summary: Joshua is nothing if not determined. If he wants something, he'll get it; not that he even had to try before. But sometimes, like Icarus, he flies a little too close to the sun. But hey, all is fair in love and war!

Characters/Pairing: Aphrodite Incarnation!Joshua x Fem!Detective!Very Mortal!Reader

Genre: smut, fluff, crack, angst if you really squint

AUs/Trope Info: Greek God!AU, Partners In Solving Crimes, Strangers to Lovers, "time isnt linear" trope, "holy shit im kind of obsessed with you" trope

Word Count: 3,194 (Full fic is around 10k)

Warnings: Depiction of a crime scene (gore, blood, gun, conspiracy), depiction of drug use, character death (major and minor), smut warnings in the next part

Rating: 18+

A/N: I decided to split this into parts since I'm not confident ill be able to finish this within the deadline, this is part of the The 13 Gods of Olympus: A Seventeen collab hosted by @beomcoups and @wooahaeproductions! This is just the first part, so if you enjoy it, please consider signing up for the taglist. Thank you!!

In the summer of 2000, Joshua Hong was almost five years old. People always commented on how pretty he was for a kid, that he’d surely grow up to be a very handsome man.

Which is why it was a tragedy when he died from a freak truck accident.

Yes, Joshua Hong died at the age of five. For like, 10 minutes.

The doctors called it a miracle - a small child should not have survived a whole six of the twelve truck wheels, but somehow he was resuscitated, much to his parents’ delight.

This incident caused two things to change dramatically - Californetherlands now has stricter trucking laws and Joshua woke up to memories of literally being Aphrodite.

Throughout the years, from that fateful summer day to the present day, Joshua flopped back and forth between believing that the memories were just fever dreams and genuinely considering that he may be a reincarnation of the goddess. But ever since he got to hone his powers, he’s been more inclined to believe the latter.

By the age of 28, he has mastered the art of seduction. No, not sleeping with people constantly. It was more so the art of getting people to say ‘yes’ to everything he asked of them.

This made Joshua a very powerful and influential figure in Los Amsterdam; You see, the way he dealt wasn’t by out-witting people or being richer than them. He dealt in favors. If you wanted to be a popstar, he’d introduce you to a famous producer, and get you a record deal that would solidify your career - all for the low, low price of free.

In turn, you’d owe him, like the many powerful people who owed him large favors.

Joshua found himself in downtown LA, in the club that he owned, just under his penthouse. He enjoyed playing the guitar and performing for his patrons, everyone seemingly captivated by his voice, or his beauty, whichever one caught their attention first. He finally strummed the last chord of his song, enjoying the applause of the crowd as the DJ started to play the usual club music. Just as he was about to retreat to the bar, a feminine voice stopped him.

“Joshua! Hey!” She said, hair bouncing over her new fur coat, jumping excitedly, calling him over.

Joshua smiled widely at her - she was one of the people he had helped start her career as a singer. He didn’t do much other than introduce her to the CEO of her current label, it was her natural talent that got her this far.

“Ah, Diana, good to see you!” He said, going over to meet her in a friendly hug, the kind that didn’t touch at all. “How has being a singer treated you? Any good news?” He said, making small talk with an old acquaintance.

“Oh please,” she started, her new haughty attitude showing, “It’s all over the news! I just got nominated for a Grammy!” She said in a sing-song tone. Joshua just nodded Truth be told, he didn’t really have much interest in pop music, but he did try to match her enthusiasm.

“That’s great! I knew you’d make it big.” he said, remembering the first time she came to him, a girl in clothes that almost looked like rags, now decked out in every designer brand you could think of. “So, what brings you back here then? Surely you already have everything you ever wanted?” He said lightheartedly. Even if all of Joshua’s connections owed him favors, it was quite uncommon for them to come back to him after having achieved their dreams.

“Well,” She said, her old, meek bashfulness coming to the surface. “I just wanted to see you again, to thank you for what you have done for me.” She tucked a hair behind her ear. “And I know no matter what favor I do for you in return, I could never break even for just how much you’ve impacted my life. So, thank you, Joshua.”

Joshua genuinely felt relieved to hear her say that - usually, people’s pride and greed got in the way of them acknowledging those who truly helped them along the way, but as he suspected, this girl still had a soul so pure. “Let's get some drinks by the bar and chat some more, yeah? My treat.” He offered, which she gladly took, the conversation between them flowed naturally, Joshua enjoying her tales of success.

It was an hour after the club closed that Diana decided it was time to head home. Joshua offered to see her off, like the gentleman he was, and so they walked to the sidewalk, her hand around his arm.

Joshua opened the taxi door for her, offering her a few bills in cash to cover the fare, “It was nice seeing you again, hopefully, you’ll make time to catch up with me in the future.” he said through the taxi window.

“Yeah, I hope I get the chance to see you again soon. Goodnight Joshua.” She said as she rolled up the taxi window.

Joshua watched the taxi drive until the end of the block, and everything seemed to be going smoothly. Then, another car intercepted her in the intersection.

It happened so quickly, too quickly for Joshua to even register the new car’s window sliding down, holding a gun out to the taxi Diana was in. Gunshots echoed through the street, the sound of tires popping and glass shattering but all Joshua could make out was the sound of two sets of four tires screeching against the concrete. Diana’s taxi collided with a nearby lamppost, the taxi flattening and curling around it.

That was the last time Joshua saw her alive.

It was all over the news “Beloved Grammy-nominated rising star, Undyne, passed at a downtown intersection in a successful assassination.” Headlines went crazy with her story, telling her life before her short-lived success as a pop star.

The police were on her case, and the street cameras identified a black car with a non-existent plate number. they couldn’t find the people who owned it, but they did have enough evidence to call it a homicide.

Joshua, being close to the scene at the time when it happened, was one of the key witnesses to the whole case.

Currently, Joshua is in the waiting area of the police station, waiting for the detective on the case to lead him to the interrogation room where he will give his statements. He was just mindlessly scrolling through his phone when a voice snapped him out of it.

“Mr. Hong? Correct?” One of the officers asked him. He nodded to confirm it, repeating his full name. The officer just nodded too, “Okay, please follow me. Detective L/n will be there to ask a few questions.” He turned to the direction of the interrogation room, Joshua trailing behind him quietly.

The officer stopped in front of a door, “Here we are, just head on in.” He said, nodding at him. He walked into the interrogation room, the chilly air making goosebumps rise on the surface of his skin, the thin cardigan he wore did nothing to shield him from the cold. He took a seat at the chair facing the door, poking at the cold metal table as he waited.

“Good Morning Mr. Hong, I’m Detective L/n. I’m here to ask you a few questions, everything said here will be transcribed as evidence for this case, do you consent to this?” You started, taking the seat in front of him, your tone was very professional, as he expected, you didn’t even bother with pleasantries other than introducing yourself, which didn’t bother Joshua. He confirms his consent verbally, politely smiling at you with his hands clasped over the table.

“Great, I’d like to ask a few questions about you first.” You said, taking out your folder for the case, “You’re Joshua Hong, born on the 30th of December, 1995. You own the club downtown where your place of residence is also. Is all of that correct?” Joshua confirms all of the information is correct.

“You can just call me Joshua, by the way, Mr. Hong makes it seem like I’m someone important.” He said bashfully, scratching the back of his neck.

You just nod, writing something down in your notebook, “What was your relationship with Diana Kamatayan?” You asked, reviewing the official file which states that she is one of Joshua’s ‘clients’.

You were well aware of how the king of Los Amsterdam does his business, favors for favors. That’s how he got this far, and if you don’t hold up your end of the bargain, he’ll take away everything he gave you. You knew asking for Joshua’s help would make this investigation go quicker, but that would mean you’d owe him.

Owing Joshua Hong anything is a dangerous position to be in.

So while you have him in this interrogation room, you’re going to try to milk every bit of information out of him while it’s free.

“Well,” he started, getting comfortable in his seat, “She was one of my clients, I’m sure your file on me already knew that. Other than a professional relationship, I don’t really have one with her. That night was the first time I’ve seen her in a little over a year, actually.”

You nod, the timeline matches up, “And why did you meet her that night?” You ask next, trying to get more out of the nature of this last meeting.

“She approached me while I was in my nightclub. I was just about to turn in for the night when she came up to me to catch up. She thanked me for introducing her to a producer and wanted to catch up.”

Joshua really wasn't giving any information for free, as the interrogation went on you could only collect information you already knew. He didn't reveal any more than a simple google search did.

You drop your file folder onto the table, where Joshua's posture remained calm, cool, collected across from you, the small, charming smile still on his face.

“Did you get what you needed, Detective?” Joshua asks politely, tilting his head with his query.

“All I got was everything we already knew.” You sighed, rolling your shoulders in your seat. You turn in your seat, facing Joshua head-on once more. “Joshua, you are one of the most powerful and influential men in Los Amsterdam. We need your help in solving this case. All our leads have gone cold. We need your connections.”

Joshua smirked, the only time his expression changed from the relaxed and polite smile he had for the rest of the interview. His posture relaxed, leaning forward over the table, he placed his palms down on the cool metal surface, and said, “You do know what that would mean, right? The price you’d have to pay?”

You nodded, “I know all too well.”

“Asking me for a favor would mean that you’d owe me, do you think you can afford to pay that price?” He raised his eyebrows, you’d think your eyes deceive you when his irises glowed a soft gold—tilting his head in an almost teasing manner, taunting you.

Your breath hitched as you looked back at the one-way glass, knowing your co-workers were watching every detail of this interaction. “I promise I’ll deliver what I owe you. Just- please help us.” You said, not being able to look at him directly in the eyes.

He straightens his back once more, his polite smile returning to his face. “It’s settled then, I look forward to working with you Miss.”

Driving through the streets of a somewhat more affluent neighborhood, you stop in front of a well-known party den. There are plenty in Los Amsterdam, but this one was popular because of their ‘free-love’ policy.

Essentially, if you want to fuck, every surface is available to borrow for the duration.

You don’t look forward to entering the den, especially since you don’t know which surfaces are good to touch, but your partner beside you seems to be relaxed and content to visit such a place.

“God, I haven’t seen Jackson in forever. I hope he’s still having the time of his life here.” Joshua said with his bright eye-smile. You turn back to him, eyebrows furrowing in disgust. How could he find a place like this enjoyable? You don’t understand how the minds of party-goers work.

“Okay, how exactly is visiting a party den supposed to help with our investigation?” You finally ask him, he refused to elaborate on how relevant this location was when you met up with hiim, or during the entire car ride to said location.

“Well, Jackson still owes me, and he’s Diane’s ex’s first producer. If there’s anyone with a motive to get her killed, it’s her ex. I asked him to get Johnny drunk enough to pass out in one place. Now you have the perfect stage to corner and investigate him!” He said, with a smile on his face as if his plan didn’t just open up a whole new can of worms for you.

“You do know it’s illegal for me to just interrogate him without a warrant right? He might lawyer up if he figures out we’re onto him.” You said running a hand through your hair.

“Which is why I got you this,” he pulls out a skimpy party dress and matching heels from his duffle bag, “We blend in with the party-goers, that way you’re not interrogating him, you’re just having a conversation.”

“Joshua Hong you are insane.” You said, tone raising, “I’m not walking into a sex den looking like a hooker!”

“Don’t worry, we’re just trying not to stand out, please, just trust me.” He said handing the outfit over to you. You think over his words, it would be wise not to draw too much attention to yourself. If you made it obvious that you were a cop you’d have to resort to improvising.

You were never good at improvising.

Joshua gave you the decency to turn away while you changed, he was already in his usual relaxed suit that already made him look like a pimp, so he was already dressed for the occasion.

You both step out of the car, your heels clacking on the pavement below you. How Joshua managed to find your shoe size is in itself impressive, but you don’t have the time to dwell on that.

You both enter the bustling house filled to the brim with people indulging in their vices, whether it was alcohol, drugs, the ‘free-love’. It was a mess of bodies and fluids that you’d rather not inspect closely.

Joshua expertly weaved through the crowd, parting it like Moses did to the red sea. He didn’t have any difficulty locating Jackson Wang, the host of these parties.

“Jackson!” Joshua called out, the man was sitting in one of the many loveseats, a can of beer in hand and two ladies under his arms, giggling and getting very comfortable with him.

Jackson squints over the flashing lights, eyes widening in recognition after seeing Joshua. “Joshua! My man! Glad you finally made it! Got to say though, that favor of yours was an odd one. But you’ll be able to find him in my room. You know the way.” He waves him off, resuming to talking to the women clinging onto him.

You follow after Joshua, quickly climbing a few sets of stairs to get to the third floor, the entirety of the third floor was just Jackson’s room. He made sure to lock the door behind the both of you when you guys arrived.

The floor was far quieter than the floors below you, and less of a mess than them too. This room felt like Jackson’s actual home, and not like a party den.

Joshua spots Johnny stumbling around the room, nursing a liquor bottle- a few of them.

“Joshua we can’t interrogate him when he’s like this, he can barely even stand!” You said, waving your arms in front of you to point at the inebriated man.

“That’s not a problem, watch this.” Joshua takes long and purposeful strides toward him, once he finally reaches him, he takes his face in his hands and stares directly into his eyes.

You watch in awe and slight confusion, until Joshua speaks up, “You want to tell us everything we want to know, and you will be sober as a priest while you do so.”

Suddenly the haziness in Johnny’s eyes faded in an instant, his brown eyes now have a golden ring around the irises, like a puppet on a string.

“What did you need to know?” Johnny says, no longer under the influence of alcohol.

“Joshua, what did you do to him?” You ask in slight horror.

“Nothing illegal, don’t worry about it.” He said, “Continue your questioning on him, detective, if we spend any more time here Jackson’s gonna think we’re having sex here.”

Not wasting any more time you ask Johnny, “Are you aware that Diane Kamatayan had been assassinated? Do you know any information about that?” Johnny squints before his eyes widen in recognition, “Diane, yeah, her, we dated a bit. I was obsessed with her. But she broke it off when she got big. Yeah, I’m pissed, but instead of doing anything healthy with my time I just chose to shit-talk her on Twitter and drown in alcohol. When I heard the news about her passing, I lost it, went straight here where Jackson just kept handing me bottle after bottle with no questions.”

You look at Joshua, raising an eyebrow, not much of a motive if he didn’t even contact her directly in the entire duration of their time as exes.

You shake your head, back to square one then.

“It didn’t help that she started dating the old geezer of a producer of hers.” Johnny said, eyebrows furrowing in frustration, “That whore, she probably got big because that sleaze of a producer gave her banger after banger for sucking his dick or something, tch.” he said, clicking his tongue and crossing his arms.

“I’m pretty sure it was him who killed her too.”

You and Joshua look at each other in shock, eyes meeting for a second, almost as if communicating telepathically.

“Why do you think that?” You ask, cautious around the increasingly irritated Johnny.

“He’s always been a greedy bastard, worked with him before. Wanted to claim all the royalties of my song, so I sued him. Pretty sure he got threatened by how rich Diane was getting for that hit.” Johnny spat, distaste seeping into every word he said, “Now Diane is dead, and the bastard is getting married to some Slavic model, most likely cashing in all those royalty cheques.”

You and Joshua nod at each other. Joshua snaps his fingers, it’s almost as if snipping a puppet off its strings, the glow around Johhny’s eyes dims and disappears, suddenly slumping over the seat, stumbling drunkenly like he did when you found him.

“Okay, we have a lead.”

[qu1cks1lversb1tch]

Hoping that this isn't weird but IMAGINE Vox having everything, fame, money, power, but he loses the one thing he treasures the most on extermination day– his family. Like imagine if Vox and his pregnant wife had this hugee argument before extermination day causing her to storm out of the tower, but he didn't chase her cause it was just probably the hormones and she'd come back. But she didn't manage to come back in time. So Vox had to wait in the tower cause he couldn't go out and pray that she was okay. After the extermination, he of course went ballistic trying to find her, jumping from camera to camera until he found her corpse in some random dark alley. What would be the aftermath? I HOPE THIS ISNT WEIRD I JUST CRAVEE ANGST ‼️‼️😭

A/N — I rewrote this a total of four times 😭 I hope this satisfies your need for angst, my lovely anon. This is the one my sister finally approved for everyone to see. Poor kid hates reading my fanfic and she's been subjected to being my conscience while I wrote this. I had to bribe her with coffee and a 20 piece nugget from McDonald's to get her to read more than a paragraph 😭

Fade To Black

Warnings: ANGST, pregnancy, Fem!Reader, loss of wife + child, Vox in denial, got kinda dark with the implications at the end(?), Alastor is mentioned a few times. Guys, I'm literally so sorry

Word Count: 1.2K

“You're not listening to me!” You reiterated for what felt like the billionth time, your gaze momentarily darting to the small curve of your stomach where one of your hands rested securely, the other on your hip.

Vox sighed, exasperated. “Listen, Doll, I'm hearing what you're saying and—”

“—That's exactly the problem! You're hearing what I'm saying but you're not actually listening to me, Vox! For Hell's sake, step away from your work and weird obsession with the Radio Demon for two seconds and focus on what's important!” 

The words felt like knives as you spoke them, each one spearing the air of the penthouse. The room fell silent. The other vees were no stranger to the arguments that broke out, hell, they were a part of most of them. . . But not this one. . . Vox stiffened and squared his shoulders. 

“My work is important. My work is what allows us to live the afterlife we do.” He said, his tone firm, almost condescending. 

“And what about your obsession, huh? Watching the rinky-dink hotel cameras in your office after hours for a glimpse of that antlered little freak who doesn't give a shit about you — when you should be home, here, with me?” 

You waited for an answer, yet Vox only stared at you. It was painfully clear that he didn't know what to say. “Lucifer's tits — fuck you!” You hissed, throwing your hands up in the air, showing just how done you were with all of this.

The next moment, you were turning on your heel and storming out of the room. 

Vox only scoffed and dropped onto the couch, watching as you walked away. Hormones. He thought to himself. It had to be.

He'd never seen you so worked up about his late nights at the office. Never seen you so angry when referencing Alastor, who had once been a good friend and mentor to you. 

Hormones. It was the only logical explanation, right?

He let you go, knowing you needed your space. . . Knowing you'd come home once you cleared your head and had just enough patience to once again approach the topic with a semi-level head, likely once the extermination was over.

You knew the moment you cleared the doors of the tower that you had likely overreacted. The hot, dry air of Hell against your skin seemed to bring the realization to the forefront of your mind. 

Yet it was pride and stubbornness that kept you from turning back to the tower, rather storming through the desolate back alleyways, a metaphorical thundercloud looming over your head.

Vox hadn't followed you, and you weren't about to give him the satisfaction of going back. You loved him, and you knew he loved you too — as shocking as it was that the two of you found genuine love in Hell.

As much as you loved him, he infuriated you, even more so now that you were carrying his child. . . 

The carnage of Extermination Day met your ears and your steps faltered, drawing you to a stop as your instincts then screamed at you to go home. To go where it was safe. 

Safe. 

Safe at Vox's side. At home. . .

How could you have forgotten what day it was? The anger. It had to have been the reason for your lapse in memory. . . So you began heading back towards the tower. 

Pride and stubbornness be damned.

Sticking to the shadows, you ventured forward towards the net of safety that you so desperately needed.

So close, yet so far.

Too far. 

It'd been too long. 

You'd been gone too long. 

The moment Extermination Day had been declared finished, Vox was out looking for you. Every camera on every street he could possibly reach. 

Every sinner he found dead and dying in the streets, he hoped he wouldn't see your face. Your beautiful face. . . The thought alone made something twist in his gut like a double edged blade — fear, he recognized. 

Pure unbridled fear. 

Fear of losing you. Fear of losing the two most important beings in his entire afterlife. 

He searched for what seemed like forever, until he caught a glimpse of you in an alleyway, almost entirely hidden from view. He easily recognized your clothes you had been wearing that day and your hair — oh, how he loved that hair. 

Relief flooded him as he rushed towards you, though it disappeared, his heart plummeting as he dropped to his knees.

“Hey, Doll, wake up. . . It's okay, it's over.” He said, his voice shaky as his hands came up to either side of your face. 

“You did good. . . You played dead so you could survive. They're gone now — you can open your eyes, Doll. . . Please open your eyes. . .” He begged softly, his touch and voice becoming more frantic.

“No, no, no, open your eyes for me, okay? I know you're mad at me, Doll, I'm sorry. . . I'm so sorry. . . Wake up. . . Wake up. . . Wake up. . .” He pulled your body closer to his, clutching you close. One hand held the back of your head to his chest, the other trailed down to your stomach. 

Too many emotions clawed at him as he begged you to wake up, to give up the charade. . . He made promises to make it up to you. He'd spend more time at home with you. He'd give up on his obsession with Alastor. He'd do it. He would do it for you. . . 

But it was too late. . . The blood that soaked your clothes and his was a chilling reminder. . . The all powerful TV Demon choked out a sob as your skin turned cold beneath his hands. 

His world stopped spinning, the axis snapping and floating off into the abyss as he held you close. . . He wasn't used to feeling your skin cold. He was used to the warmth, the life, the light that came from you. 

He couldn't feel you. 

And it killed him. 

He couldn't breathe. His chest ached. Nothing in all of Hell mattered more than you. More than the child that had been created out of love and the use of a loophole within Hell's complex laws of nature. 

And now it had been ripped away from him. He hated himself. He was angry. 

It felt as if the light and warmth had been sucked out of his universe, leaving nothing but cold darkness that seeped into his very soul, gnawing at him, tearing him apart from the inside out. 

He could hardly remember his afterlife before you. Now, facing a reality where he'd have to live in an afterlife without you. . . It consumed him in all the wrong ways. . . 

He wanted you back. 

He needed you back. 

Yet the darkness that gnawed and clawed at his entire being, the absence of you — your light that was supposed to guide him through this perpetual landscape of flame and rot for all eternity. . . The shadows remained like a constant reminder, a plague of its own, slowly eating away at him at every opportunity. 

Without your light, he was nothing. 

Without your laugh, he was nothing. 

Without your attitude, he was nothing. 

Without your warmth, he was nothing.

Nothing more than a shell of the overlord he used to be. . . And when the shadows clawed at his mind like a beast seeking a debt to be paid, he let them win. 

He let it all fade to black. 

[saudade-lovers]

quick 1hr sketch of jayvik, inspired by The kiss, 1897 by Edward Munch. (click for clarity ౨ৎ)

an. i'm going to yap about this piece ehe. (art student problems) i really love the original piece done by Munch. originally i was thinking of doing the latter made version by Klimt, but i really enjoyed the ambivalence of Munch's representation of the lovers in his painting, with their faces merging together, becoming one, intertwined if you will. its originally in a rather dark, morose palette, and gives an idea of pure unity and yet the loss of individuality, hinting at death. and yet it is certainly passionate.

and while this is story and symbolism dont apply to Viktor and Jayce in exact, i still found it compelling enough to want to give an ode to Munch in this painting. only i hope to show a more bright way of viewing it, in not that it is a loss of individuality and personage, but rather a peeled back complete understanding of one another, and i think that's very romantic. i really tried to keep to the less detail oriented style, which was hard, but i'm pretty happy with it ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و

also i know i promised to do a caivi painting, i was just very obsessed with this specific scenes in season 2, ep 9.....

[impactrueno]

Hi! I really love your comics, and art in general! Your Hey Arnold and Simpsons stuff was fire, and I've been loving your Beetlejuice comics (Lydia and Juice's falling out got me tearing up lmao) As far as your Beetleverse comics go - idk if this is something you've mentioned somewhere - I know they're probably meant to be, like, separate canons and stuff, but if they were to take place in the same kinda "timeline", what would the order of events be?

Does CartoonLydia meeting older MovieLydia - a Lydia who's had some really negative experiences with MovieBJ and preaches that ToonLydia SHOULD NOT trust ToonBJ - have any impact on her getting fed up with her BJ and breaking it off with him?

Again, thank you for making these comics - they're dope as hell, and I'm excited for what comes next!

thank you so much!

the beetleverse comics are just a "what if" where we pull each duo out of their respective canons (unceremoniously) and force them to be in their little white void enclosure that i made for them lol

so the events in the story i'm currently doing haven't been influenced by any of that. but if they were to take place in the same timeline, it'd happen some time before the end of the show (maybe even before season 4,) and i think movie lyds telling her to be wary of toon bj would make her doubt herself and her beej for a moment, but then would be proven wrong or realize that movie lydia was wrong about him. and this would not make sense in a real life situation (in fact, it would be concerning) but here's the thing:

something i've found interesting to think about with the beetleverse comics is that each duo operates on different logic. movie lydia is closer to real life logic aka "why the hell are you letting this child hang around so closely with this weird old man" but cartoon bj and lyds work under saturday morning cartoon logic, meaning none of the things movie lydia is fearing would ever happen, because it's a show for kids. so in their little universe, cartoon lydia is perfectly safe with her beej, who as we all know would sooner die all over again than to cause her any harm, so she has nothing to fear. they'll just be best friends forever (with a few bumps along the road of course) and that's it. movie lydia can't even wrap her head around that.

now going back to the current story of them 30 years later; i'm still writing them under cartoon logic for the most part, but with a bit more realistic flavor. so their relationship is still too weird to happen in real life, only now we're seeing the consequences of the friction between them that was already there in the cartoon, and he can't joke his way out of this one or have silly incidental music and sound effects to lessen the blow. movie lydia's warnings wouldn't have had much of an effect on them because this was something that was going to happen either way, and cartoon lydia's problem with bj was never "you're a creepy old man why are you obsessed with me" (real life logic) and more so "you're supposed to be my best friend in the whole world but all i do is babysit you and solve your problems for you while you try to scam some sucker out of their money and i've had it" (cartoon logic)

i hope all that makes sense lol

[xhunnybeeex]

Hayden christensen character music/playlist headcanons 

playlists at the bottom of sections :3

❥ ~ Sam Monroe ~ 

Sam Monroe ~ mainly listens to mall goth/ metal, that's just cannon. However, he DEFINITELY got really into other goth subgenres while finding cds. 

Sam Monroe ~ would have to be forced to admit he loves riot girl movies. 

“Is this bikini kill in your mixtape?” you ask Sam as you dig through his cds. “I didn't know you were into riot girl music.” “I'm not,” he grumbles. 

Sam Monroe ~ loves angry midwest emo music. He loves the emo whine. 

Sam Monroe ~ doesn’t have a very diverse taste. He only really likes alt genres, but every once in a while you'll see him nod his head to pop songs on the radio. 

"this is clearly a differnt genre what are you talking about" sam protest. "Theyre all just screaming how is that different!" you yell back.

Sam Monroe ~ is the type to say “name three songs”, but only in front of other alt people to look cool. 

Sam Monroe ~ loves the goth culture but doesn't know how to become part of it, especially without getting bullied. 

Sam Monroe ~  loves making mixtapes with songs he likes to pair together, even if they sounds the same 

Sam monroe playlist done by me ⇦ ⇦ ⇦

❥ ~ Anakin Skywalker ~ 

Anakin Skywalker ~ obviously doesn’t have any cannon music taste so the following playlist is all what I PERSONALLY think Anakin would like to listen to or are him “coded”. This one was the hardest for me to do and is honestly probably the most inaccurate. 

Anakin Skywalker ~ is clearly pretty when he cries, and very lana del rey coded

Anakin Skywalker ~ would have a very open music taste, he listens to what people show him

Anakin Skywalker ~ likes classic rock and acoustic music from obi wan, sad girl music from ahsoka (oh you know she showed him mitski), and softer popy music from padme. 

Anakin Skywalker ~ never knows the names of artists, always has to hum songs for people to know what he's talking about. 

Anakin Skywalker ~ always asks Ahsoka to play her music when flying, but he'll always deny that he does. 

“Why don't you pick your own music for once!” Ahsoka groans in annoyance, rubbing her face in her hands. “Cause i'm flying! "Anakin yells back in protest. “Just admit you like my music.” Ahsoka smirks, plugging her comlink into the ship and getting her playlist on. Anakin stays silent. Pretending not to hear her and stares off at the stars in front of him as he flys. 

Anakin Skywalker playlist by me ⇦ ⇦ ⇦

❥ ~Stephen Glass ~

Stephen Glass ~ has a very diverse taste in all sorts of funky music

Stephen Glass ~ who lives for folk music but also is obsessed with pop music 

Stephen Glass ~ can’t not have Lady gaga on his playlists and knows all her songs. He yells at people who don't know summer boy because that's his favorite. 

Stephen Glass ~ who grew up on bob dylan and the beatles

Stephen Glass ~ was always a Brittany defender and refused to do journalism about her. He would never lie about the queen herself. 

“Did you guys see that britney spears-” his co workers gossip. “I need to be excused.” Stephen immediately stands up and walks anywhere from the conversation. He doesn’t want to hear what they say, and no one wants to know what he would respond with. 

Stephen Glass ~ loves to relax to calming 70s music. 

Stephen Glass ~ is a huge music nerd, but isn't even aware of it. 

“This is Joni Mitchel, she's super cool. She's canadian. I just found that out. I’ve been listening to her for years but I just found out. Crazy huh?” Stephen rambles. You chuckle in amazement on how much he knows and how fast his lips move. “Jeez you sure know a lot about music.” Stephen shakes his head and smiles. “Oh no, not really. I couldn't even play anything if I tried. But anyway did you know-” 

Stephen Glass playlist made by me ⇦ ⇦ ⇦

A/N///: OMGGG im very happy to fianlly have stuff posted again. i have been so out of it lately. this is my first time ever writing headcanons so go easy on me. i have had this sam monroe playlist made for a while now and it gave me the idea to make a lil post about it. i hope yall enjoy and maybe even have a listen. happy thanksgiving and stay hot. - beee!

[hotvintagepoll]

Laurel and Hardy (Pack Up Your Troubles, The Devil's Brother)—[Stan Laurel was] 5'8". He's a cute little silly fella. Laurel and Hardy were very good friends IRL! In his comedy shorts made with longtime work partner and close friend Oliver Hardy, when Hardy said his best-known catchphrase, "Well, here's another nice mess you've gotten me into!", "Laurel's frequent, iconic response was to start to cry, pull his hair up, exclaim 'Well, I couldn't help it...', then whimper and speak gibberish." (From the Laurel and Hardy Wikipedia page)

James Cagney (Yankee Doodle Dandy, A Midsummer Night's Dream, Public Enemy, White Heat, The Strawberry Blonde)—Whaddya mean I've gotta SUBMIT Cagney? You look up scrungly in the dictionary and there's a picture of him RIGHT THERE. He IS the scrungle. -SHORT KING 5'4 3/4 (1.65m) I could put him in my pocket -When he rolls down his car window (in Mayor of Hell) sticks his head out and makes some snarky comment (which I didn't hear because I was way too distracted) it's like struck by lightning, let me tell you -His hair is so wavy and sometimes it falls over his forehead and then I die a little -He plays The Public Enemy number one, everyone thinks of this as "the one with the grapefruit scene" but it is SO SO much more than that, it's also the one where he wears little striped pajamas -Multilingual (Yes, I'm the same person who submitted EGR and listed this earlier. Yes, this is a big thing for me.) He spoke Yiddish, guys and you can hear him speak it in a movie (Taxi) AND when the Warner Bros. tried to discuss him without him knowing they used Yiddish not realizing he'd understand everything -He talks so fast. Like. Staccatto. It's so fascinating -Loved animals & owned CHOW CHOWS (that's a very scrungly dog, c'mon) -Plays Bottom in Midsummer Night's Dream, that's the guy who gets turned into a DONKEY, nobody else could've played it like he did -Messed with Warner Bros. all the time, threatened to quit, told them he was going to go be a doctor instead -He does this little nose scrunch thing oh my god -Boy Meets Girl is a supremely underrated screw ball comedy and he has lots of silly little outfits in it and acts ridiculous the entire time -Was fascinated by farming and just puttered around on his tractor, like he's just a little guy! -There's a movie where he has a silly little mustache (I haven't seen it yet though) -They've dressed him up as bellhops, sailorsn cowboys and itty bitty gangsters [in movies] and frankly that should be enough -His first show biz job was a female dancer on the chorus line

This is round 2 of the contest. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. If you're confused on what a scrungle is, or any of the rules of the contest, click here.

[additional submitted propaganda + scrungly videos under the cut]

Laurel and Hardy:

nobody was doing it like them! nobody!!!! weird men rIGHTS

James Cagney:

James Cagney is such a scrungler. He could dance, he could sing, he embodied the gangster role, he was a short king, he had curly hair, what more could you possibly want?? Something about his face just feels so Looney Toons to me. He's like a little bug and I'm observing him through my magnifying glass. I'm obsessed with his hair and his scrunging demeanor!!! He's the most guy to me of all time. I tried to draw him once and completely failed. You could crumple him up like a tissue and watch him float away in the breeze.

Fanvid

A second fanvid

A third fanvid

He is the SCRUNGLIEST of gangsters, it’s the role that made him famous, and by god that’s for good reason. He also plays a peculiar little guy in musicals and occasionally westerns, all with a particular flavor of scruffy city rat energy that you can’t help but adore!  

[rey-jake-therapist]

Excuse me ? "it's you who started it", are you twelve ? You're accusing me of things that other shippers have done, so tone down your voice please.

Yes it was me who posted this comment, I won't deny it. It was in this post, that commented on a post quoting an article that claimed that Galadriel was "done with Sauron" and that Celeborn was an extremely important character in the story of LOTR and that it was imperative that the show would introduce him now. YES I called certain Celeborn stans delusional not because they ship Galadriel and Celeborn lol but because they often make him a much more important than he is, and are also often vocal on how that now Galadriel will "step back", her life will turn around him. This is just not going to happen. And YES I called this take in particular delusional because

1) Galadriel is not done with Sauron, wether you ship it or not it will always remain a very important connection the show

2) Celeborn is a side character, he's not important. Is he important for Galadriel ? Of course he is, he's her husband, the father of her child. But in the overall story? No, he isn't, and no, it's not crucial that he shows up in the story now. But if he does, he does ! I won't stop watching the show because Celeborn appears.

3) and yes some Celeborn stans are often very annoying and agressive, you just proved it. That's why I said what I said in the screenshot. For the record, it came just a few days after certain Celeborn stans blamed Haladriel shippers for chasing Charlie Vickers away from Instagram, while they had nothing to with it, as it was proven. So yes, I was pissed, and I don't do it often but this day I generalized. It was wrong, but since you're just doing exactly the same thing to me by accusing me of things that other people did, I can't say i feel very guilty.

Idgaf about your ship, and i don't think I said anything remotely negative about it in this post, did I ? I called it 'boring', but I also said that most marriages are boring, as 'uneventful'. I find it boring as a subject to watch and analyse, okay ? Christ, I even called my own past relationship 'boring', and I loved most of it ! I don't think it's being anti shipping to say that I'm not obsessed with the daily routine of a married couple to the point of imagining their life together or write fanfic about it.

All that you accuse ME of saying (I say 'me', because I'm the one being personally attacked here. I don't represent the Haladriel fandom as a whole, mind you) : sorry bro, wrong target, because I never called any of C/G shipper 'delusional'. Some of those who use their ship to attack mine annoy me, yes, but I'm also well aware that it's not the majority of the shippers who do that (I know there are fellow shippers that claim that most C/G shippers are fake, but I. am. not. them.)

I also never called any shipper 'puritan incel' for wanting a wife and a husband to be reunited. Not only it will happen, but it HAS to happen. I'm not an idiot, I know how the story ends and it ends well for your ship and really not well for mine. I'm totally cool with it, I even love my ship for this reason, among others.

Also, you're a former Reylo

Ahhhhh again, wrong target bro, I'm not at all a former Reylo, never been a Reylo. I had a vague interest for it at some point, but it quickly passed. And I'll even confide you one thing : I'm always profundly annoyed when I see Haladriel being claimed as another Reylo, because these dynamics are for me extremely different. Sauron is not Kylo Ren, for which I'm very grateful because I can't stand the guy (sorry my Reylo friends, but it is what it is. Love on you though).

Don't start talking me about fandom etiquette when you're the one attacking me. The comments you screenshot were adressed in a post that didn't tag your ship or your beloved Celeborn, so you found it because you wanted it. People are allowed to express negative opinions on a fictional character, and you are allowed to block them if you don't like it. THIS is basic fandom etiquette. Every day I find the worst takes on characters I love, and yet you don't see me whining in the mentions of whoever posted them. Most of the time I just shrug it off and scroll down, because I'm a grown woman !

However, I don't support any of the behaviours you're accusing me of having. I'm not for attacking real people over their like of a ship or of a fictional character.

I'll leave you time to read this answer, then I'll indeed block you because I don't need this kind of nuisance. Go find somebody else to pile on, because you got the wrong person here, clearly.

Why is it so hard to understand that Sauron being the villain and downright evil is precisely what makes Saurondriel a fun and interesting ship to play with ?? I mean it's so amusing to see people clutching their pearls over the fact that many viewers (women mostly) find this dynamic attractive, as if the point of shipping was not often to have FUN playing dolls with fictional characters who if they existed in real life, would have no business being together. Unlike real life toxic relationships, the fictional ones are HARMLESS. Unless you can't dissociate fiction and reality and don't see that Galadriel is a fictional character, there's nothing harmful in shipping her with anyone else than her husband.

I'm not sorry to say I don't see why I should ship Galadriel with her currently dead husband, while Galadriel herself doesn't seem to give a shit about him at all (in the show). Seeing some people bemused that no more fans ship her with Celeborn as if a relationship being canon made it automatically fun to ship is a bit funny, to say the least.

I don't see any fun in imagining scenarios where they live their very normal marital life, raise their very normal kid and sometimes have dinners with their very normal family. Why don't more people ship Galadriel and Celeborn ? Because it's boring that's why. I see boring married people everyday in real life already, my own marital life was mostly boring as well (except when my ex decided it was "put you down for no reason" day.... I preferred the boring days), why the hell would I care for fictional boring married people ?

Don't get me wrong, It doesn't mean that I don't want Galadriel to have this life ! I want her to be happy, of course, but see what's great with Saurondriel is that I KNOW that it will never be a threat to Galadriel's life with Celeborn. I KNOW that he'll come back at some point, I KNOW that she'll have this peaceful marital life, and us shipping Galadriel and Sauron will never change that because it's already written.

[marigraphia]

I've had this pose ref saved for a while and the Superman set photos just gave off the same energy 👉🏻👈🏻

The reference is this photo of Katharine Hepburn as Antiope and Colin Keith-Johnston as Theseus in the 1932 play 'The Warrior's Husband' (and I'd love for people to turn into a draw your otp meme pls pls pls this pose is so good)

And also, of course, the Superman (2025) set photos

[chatonlaveur]

the slow horses season finale has me losing my mind btw if anyone cares

[octoagentmiles]

Animals I wish to see in Above and Beyond:

Alternate title: I Am Banging On Silvergate’s Door As We Speak /j

Bees!! because a bee model does in fact exist. I know this. They just need to use it /srs. Plus bees would make a really cute episode anyway- and when they finally do it I am willing to bet $9999 on it being a Vegimals episode.

Orchid mantis, or any kind of mantis really. Why? They are my favourite bug, next question-

Gynandromorph animal(s)!!! They're so cool—they're what happens when an animal with vastly different gender differences (think the harlequin ducks) is born intersex, and they look like Picasso paintings come to life. (it could also be a fun way to introduce a character with they/them pronouns-)

Parrots! (I know we got the mountain parrots but shh-) I desperately want a Pete-centered episode, and give him some friends while you're at it please.

Centipede! They’re literally just remipedes on land. Make it a Shellington episode and call it a day 👍

Snails. I love snails. They're the best mollusks, I am not accepting criticism.

Tarantula. Just because :)

Bunny. They showed an illustration of a non-anthro bunny in The Cold Snap and I have not felt peace since.

I’d gladly take a jackrabbit too; they’re not really rabbits (they’re hares), but if you’ve read that one post you’ll understand. It’s a Kwazii and Tweak episode.

Sammy The Falcon specifically. What is his deal???? They introduced him as Paani's living taxi and gave us ZERO context.

Maned wolves. Weirdos. (affectionate)

Moose. I will not elaborate further.

I’m down to see the chinstrap penguins again, or Ooju and Rocko—I think they should interact 👀

Ostrich?? Emu?? I have nothing else to say.

Ring-Tailed Lemur. They’re another one of my favourite animals, and I think the Wild Kratts fans would get a kick out of it. They deserve nice things.

Mole lizard. Look it up I DARE you. (cw if you're scared of snakes or worms) /nf

[fuchsea]

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[icewindandboringhorror]

everyday I miss miitomo .. aaa

[eggmeralda]

kind of wish my way of coping with morbid things wasn't to expose myself to them until I become desensitised lol

[aw-bean-s]

For anyone else who has been capital O obsessive over Wednesday's prom dress it's Alaia's 2020 fall ready-to-wear collection specifically look 8. If you were wondering.