#and irl you only call “wife” women

[kathrahender]

Please tell me I'm not the only one who find the malewife/girlboss ships disgusting :/

I want to find more people who think like me in this ;-;

[molluskzone-moving]

i hate being called male terms or even receiving masculine compliments sometimes (i especially hate the word handsome...) but for some reason getting called boyfriend makes me 😳

[alsofoundinpeas]

Only Ever You

Summary: Y/N knows her husband can be a bit oblivious when it comes to women flirting with him, but when a local officer oversteps during their latest case, she reaches her breaking point. She’s exhausted from feeling like she’s always second to every other woman. Now, it's up to Spencer to prove that no one will ever come before her.

Requested fic!! : I was hoping you could write an angsty-angry-smutty fic surrounding Spencer exasperatingly telling Reader: “Cat Adams could offer herself up wide open on a bed. In fact she has! JJ could leave Will for me. Maeve could fucking walk back in here right now. And I would still choose you!”

At some point in their love-making Reader tells Spencer “you always choose women who take and take and take from you. Giving nothing of themselves back but you deserve everything. I want to give you my everything”. They essentially worship each other endlessly. In so many ways.

CONTENT WARNINGS: 18+!! MDNI!! This fic is intended for adult audiences. This was written with Season 14 Reid in mind btw :) Intense argument between Reader and Spencer (Reader is hurt and is kind of harsh). Very brief mentions of past infidelity (done by Reader's ex-partners). Jealous reader!! Crying during arguing (very brief by both parties). Oral (both m and f receiving), fingering (f!receiving), overstimulation (both m and f receiving), unprotected PinV sex (be safe irl!!), multiple orgasms (both m and f receiving), creampie (I wince every time I type that LMAO), slight exhibitionism (a call is made during sex), praise. Angst turned happy ending!!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader/afab!reader

A/N: First and foremost, thank you so very much to the anon who requested this!! I truly hope you enjoy it and that I wrote what you were hoping for :') <3 To everyone reading, welcome to my first fic of the new year!! I hope you guys enjoy it :) As always, please let me know what you guys think! If you like it, please consider dropping a like, reblogging it, or even sharing it with your friends :') I love you all!! <3 K

Something Y/N loathed about herself was her tendency to get overly jealous whenever other women (or even some men) were around Spencer. It wasn’t a matter of trusting him—she trusted Spencer with her life. But no amount of trust could erase the scars left by the betrayal of past partners who had cheated on her.

Y/N tried to hold back her annoyance whenever JJ hung around Spencer for what she considered far too long to be just friendly. She bit her tongue whenever a witness or suspect flirted with him. She had even managed to keep her cool one night when they went out for drinks with the team (a rare occasion) and Y/N returned from the bathroom to find the bartender borderline eye-fucking Spencer, even going so far as to reach for his arm.

Spencer’s obliviousness to women's advances toward him often made her blood boil, and as she had watched him that night, a knot of frustration tightened in her stomach. Her anger simmered, rising bitterly in her throat as she made her way toward them. Y/N knew the bartender had seen his wedding band—it was something Spencer wore like a badge of honor, always proudly visible.

Thankfully, Spencer pulled his arm away before she had to intervene, ranting about how the drink was meant for her, his wife before paying and storming back to their booth, clearly irked. In that moment, Y/N’s anger evaporated, replaced by a rush of relief as she was reminded of Spencer's unwavering love for her, a love he would always prove, with or without her presence. Rather than confronting the bartender, she turned and returned to the booth, curling up against Spencer with a contented smile, enjoying the rest of the night in his arms.

Tonight, Y/N struggled to remember that reminder as she cast a fierce glare at the back of Spencer's head from across the room.

The team had been dispatched to a small town in Oregon to investigate a particularly disturbing case where the unsub was leaving his victims strung up in the state forest along popular hiking trails, their stomachs or backs marked with cryptic quotes. Over the week, Spencer had struck up an unexpected connection with Officer Henley, a local who shared his deep knowledge of Edgar Allan Poe—particularly The Raven, from which the unsub was drawing his quotes. As the case dragged on, Y/N couldn’t ignore the growing tension, especially as Officer Henley—or Sarah, who kept insisting Spencer call her by her first name—made her interest in him all too apparent, while both women silently made their distaste for each other clear.

Tonight was testing Y/N’s patience and professionalism like never before. Spencer and Sarah had been assigned to decode the latest quote found on a victim, while Y/N focused on the geographical profile. Normally, she preferred the analysis over fieldwork, but tonight she would have rather been out in the damp forest searching for overlooked clues with the rest of the team than endure Sarah's loud, incessant laughter at some meaningless joke her husband had made.

Spencer, naturally, was just glad someone appreciated his sense of humor and remained blissfully unaware of Sarah’s clear attempts to flirt with him. To be honest, he found her a bit clingy and annoying, but he attributed it to her enthusiasm as a new officer—she had only joined the precinct a few months ago—and the excitement of working on a case far more intense than the usual petty theft or minor civil dispute her town had.

After another round of high-pitched laughter, Y/N reached her breaking point. With an exasperated sigh, she slammed the box of pins onto the table and stood up abruptly, her chair scraping loudly against the floor. So consumed by frustration, she didn't even realize one of the pins had punctured the thin plastic until she reached for the doorknob, a muffled curse slipping from her lips as she noticed blood trickling down her finger.

The loud noise startled both Sarah and Spencer, causing them to turn quickly as Y/N stormed out of the room. Spencer’s brow furrowed with concern, and without a second thought, he excused himself, brushing past Sarah’s confused calls. It didn't take long for him to find Y/N in the breakroom, huddled in the corner, carefully applying a band-aid to her finger.

"Honey? Are you okay?" Spencer asked worriedly, making his way toward her.

Y/N looked up, unable to help the disgruntled look on her face as she huffed. “I’m fine. It was just a small poke, really. I don’t know why it bled so much,” she murmured, looking away to take a sip of the coffee she’d poured for herself.

The clock above the break room door ticked on, its hands marking a quarter past nine. Y/N's frustration simmered, a mix of exhaustion from the sleepless nights and irritation at Spencer’s obliviousness to Sarah’s clear interest in him. For someone with such sharp profiling skills, it baffled her that Spencer couldn't seem to read the obvious signs when it came to women.

Where he failed to read other women and their intentions, he had no such trouble with Y/N. He could read her effortlessly, which is why he immediately knew she was lying.

Spencer took a seat beside her, his gaze fixed on her face intently. He sat quietly for a moment before speaking up.

“What’s bothering you, sweetheart? Talk to me. Please?”

Spencer knew Y/N tended to bottle things up instead of letting them out, reluctant to share her feelings for fear of burdening him. He detested anyone in her life who had contributed to that insecurity. In his eyes, she would never be a bother for simply expressing how she felt.

Before Y/N could respond, her phone rang, and she silently welcomed the interruption. She wasn’t sure she could explain to Spencer why she was so upset—especially over something as irrational as him making another woman laugh. She knew, logically, that he would never (knowingly) encourage any flirting, yet the feeling still nagged at her. He was her husband. She loved him more than anything, and the idea of another woman encroaching on what they had stung more than she cared to admit.

Y/N held a finger up before answering the call with a brisk “Agent Y/L/N speaking.”

“Yikes, that was cold. You okay?”

When Tara’s voice came through the phone, Y/N immediately felt a twinge of guilt for how she’d answered, but it quickly faded as her shoulders eased and she exhaled softly.

“I’ll explain later. What’s up?”

“We’re not making any progress here, and since it’s so late, Emily thinks we should head to the Inn and get some rest. You definitely sound like you could use it,” Tara said with a soft chuckle.

She wasn’t wrong. The case, combined with Sarah’s behavior, had Y/N feeling stretched thin and irritable. The sleep deprivation certainly wasn’t helping. A small grin tugged at her lips before she replied.

“You know me too well, ma’am. You get some rest too. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Y/N hung up the phone and met Spencer’s inquisitive gaze. “That was Tara. Emily gave the go-ahead to wrap up and head to the Inn,” she explained, offering him a small, tired smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Spencer nodded, his gaze lingering on her with quiet concern as they stood. He said nothing as they walked back to the conference room to pack up for the night, choosing not to press her about whatever was troubling her. He made a mental note to bring it up later, at a better time. They still had an unsub to catch, and adding more stress to an already challenging case wouldn’t help either of them.

After five more long, excruciating days of watching Sarah blatantly flirt with her husband and ignoring the team's questioning glances, Y/N finally got the break she all but begged the universe for.

By some miracle, they had finally tracked down the unsub. A slip-up at his latest crime scene had not only left his DNA behind, but he was also in the system for previous crimes and still lived at the same address. The evidence they found in his home during the arrest was more than damning, so Emily decided the local police captain could take it from there, handling the interrogation and everything else.

The flight back to Quantico was tense, and Y/N chose to sit with Tara instead of Spencer. His defense of Sarah—especially after Y/N confronted her for grabbing his phone and putting her number in it "as a friend"—had been the breaking point. Now, she was actively ignoring him, despite his repeated pleas at the Inn while they packed for her to just tell him what was wrong so he could fix it. She knew it was petty. She knew she should be mature and talk to him about it. But she was hurt. All she wanted was for her husband to recognize when other women were making moves on him before it crossed a line—like with the bartender who thought it was okay to touch him.

The drive home was unbearable. Spencer’s hands were clenched around the wheel, his knuckles pale from the pressure, while Y/N faced the window, staring out into the darkness, her body turned away from him. The silence between them was deafening, with neither of them saying a word the entire ride.

That silence ended the instant Y/N slammed the door behind them after they’d brought in their go-bags.

“Y/N, seriously, what the fuck is your problem?” Spencer snapped, his frustration bubbling over. He had tried being patient, asking her again and again to just tell him what was wrong, but now he was done. After the long, grueling case they'd gotten back from, all he wanted was to hold his wife, not fight with her.

“What the fuck is my problem?!” Y/N scoffed incredulously. “What the fuck is your problem Spencer?”

Y/N stormed toward their bedroom, flinging her bag into the corner to deal with later. Spinning on her heels, she brushed past Spencer—who had been trailing her—and made her way to the kitchen. Spencer sighed, setting his bag next to their closet and placing his phone on his nightstand before turning to follow after her.

“Or better yet, why don’t you ask Sarah what my problem is?” she shot at him, her words laced with bitterness. “After all, she was kind enough to give you her number, and you two seem to get along so well!” Y/N stopped abruptly, turning to face him, her expression fierce.

Spencer scoffed, raising his eyebrows and shaking his head as he crossed his arms. "Seriously? You’re this upset because a woman was being friendly with me?"

Y/N laughed sharply, the mix of anger and hurt making her delirious. She nodded slowly, lifting her gaze to his, her tongue pressing into her cheek as her eyes narrowed. With a deliberate step forward, she closed the distance between them. “As brilliant as you are, that might just be the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard you say in all the years I’ve known you,” she hissed, her glare fiery as she looked up at him.

Spencer's throat tightened as his pulse quickened, staring at her in disbelief. He had never seen his wife so furious, and a sinking feeling of dread settled deep in his stomach. His lips parted, but before he could speak, she turned on her heel, moving around the counter to put space between them.

“I’m at a loss, Spencer,” Y/N sighed, her head dropping as her fingers drummed against the countertop. “If you honestly think her behavior was just friendly, I don’t even know what to say to you.” She looked up at him, her voice shaking with frustration as she got louder and louder. “And on top of all that, you defended her over me—your wife! Do you know how embarrassing that was? I would never, in a million years, defend another man over you!”

With the case no longer consuming his thoughts, Spencer took a moment to truly reflect on Sarah’s behavior. What he had once brushed off as clingy and overenthusiastic now seemed undeniably inappropriate. He had been so focused on the case that he hadn’t given it the attention it deserved.

Y/N was right, and he knew now that he’d been wrong to defend another woman over her. He had convinced himself that Y/N was overreacting when Sarah put her number in his phone, but now he understood. Y/N was his wife, and the guilt of making her feel hurt and humiliated weighed heavily on him.

“Y/N—“ Spencer hesitated, sighing before he continued. “Sweetheart, I never meant to make you feel like I was putting someone else before you. You know that, right?” Spencer’s voice was soft, his guilt clear in every word.

Y/N’s lip quivered as she stared at him, shaking her head before releasing a strained breath.

“No, Spencer. I don’t know that. Because, no matter what, I always end up on the back burner when it comes to other women in your life. Sometimes, it honestly feels like you’re deliberately oblivious to it—like you don’t care enough to notice or do something about it. Like you’ll always choose another woman over me."

Her words hit Spencer harder than he expected, stirring up a well of emotion he hadn’t realized was there. Anger bubbled up inside him, but it wasn’t aimed at her—not for a second. It was anger directed at himself, for making Y/N feel like she would ever come second to anyone.

Spencer realized now why he had been so oblivious to the other women’s attention. It was because he was so in love with her, so completely devoted, that he couldn’t even entertain the idea of anyone else wanting him. He didn’t care about them in the slightest—how could he when he had the most incredible, most beautiful woman alive as his wife?

“Is that… is that truly how I’ve made you feel?” Spencer whispers, a devastated look on his face as he took a trembling step toward her. “Like I’d choose any other woman over you, sweetheart?”

Y/N nodded, swallowing down the lump in her throat as a tear slipped down her cheek at the admission.

Spencer slowly made his way around the counter, giving her time to back away if she didn’t want him near her right now. Once he reached her, he gently guided her face up to look at his before swiping the tear from her cheek.

“My darling girl,” he murmured, his voice unwavering as he cradled her face. “Cat Adams could offer herself up to me wide open on a bed a thousand times—it wouldn’t matter. JJ could walk away from Will tonight, tomorrow, whenever, and it wouldn’t change a thing. Even if Maeve herself walked through that door right now…” Spencer paused, his expression softening. “I’d still choose you. Always you. Only you. In this life, and in every life. Without a second of hesitation. Without an ounce of doubt.”

Y/N’s heart clenched at his words, her eyes studying his face for any indication that he was lying. But all she saw was raw honesty and regret, his eyes brimming with tears. Her eyes closed as another tear slipped down her cheek, and slowly, she leaned into his touch, her shoulders finally giving way with a quiet surrender.

"You really mean that?" Y/N asked, her insecurity still overpowering the evidence before her.

Spencer pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her as he gently cradled the back of her head with one hand and drew her waist against him with the other. “Of course I mean it, my sweet girl,” he murmured, pressing his face into her hair, his eyes slipping shut. “I’m so, truly sorry for not showing you that sooner. But I swear, from now on, I will. No one—no one—could ever mean more to me than you.”

Y/N kept her arms around him, her face pressed against his chest as she let his words sink in. After a beat, she pulled back with a soft exhale, wiping her eyes before meeting his gaze. “I’m still angry with you,” she said, poking a finger into his chest before trailing her hand up to gently tug at his tie. “But that definitely helped your case,” she added, a playful spark lighting her eyes as she slowly untied his knot. “I might even let you sleep in our bed tonight.”

A low chuckle rumbled in Spencer’s chest as he raised an eyebrow, his hands settling on her waist while she worked at his tie. “Any chance I can turn that ‘might’ into a ‘will’?” he murmured, his voice laced with teasing. “Because I can think of a few ways to plead my case.”

As he spoke, his hands slid underneath her blouse to rub maddening circles into her skin, sending a shiver down her spine. Y/N tilted her head, humming thoughtfully as she let his loose tie slip from her fingers, falling to the floor. It had been almost two weeks since the last time she and Spencer had done anything remotely sexual, and the idea of make-up sex was more than appealing.

“We’ll see,” Y/N whispered, a playful smirk tugging at her lips as she pressed her hand against his chest and rose onto her toes to kiss him.

Spencer melted into the kiss, turning to press her gently against the counter. A low groan escaped his lips before he deepened the kiss, trailing a hand down her side to hike her leg up around his waist while the other settled against the side of her neck. His thumb stroked her jawline as he pressed further into her touch.

"I love how hard you get from just a few kisses," Y/N muttered against his lips. "Maybe you really are sorry after all."

"My angel girl," Spencer cooed between kisses, trailing his lips down her neck to her exposed collarbone. "I'll prove to you—" A soft gasp fell from Y'N's lips as he sucked a mark into her skin. "—just how sorry I am…” Her head tipped back as he began to kneel before her, placing both hands on her waist as he peppered kisses down her clothed body. “And worship you in the way you’ve deserved—“ Her gaze met his as he lifted her foot, resting it on his thigh before undoing the strap of her high heel. “—for so, so long.”

Y/N’s hands gripped the counter as she watched him through hooded eyes, a breath of relief releasing into the air as he slipped her shoe off, letting it hit the ground beside them with a quiet thump. He kept her foot on his thigh, placing a kiss on her knee through her slacks as he began to massage her tense calf muscles under the fabric. Once he was satisfied with the appreciative groans falling from her lips, he did the same with the other side, removing her high heel and massaging her leg.

Spencer sat her foot back down on the ground before reaching for the button of her slacks, popping it open. Her breath hitched as he leaned forward, tugging her zipper down with his teeth. The moment her zipper was completely down, he reached up, startling her from her haze as he yanked the fabric down her legs.

“Spence!” Y/N said, her laugh tinged with amusement as he merely shrugged, a mischievous spark in his eyes and a smirk tugging at his lips.

He helped her step out of the fabric, keeping his hands on her hips to steady her while she kicked her pants to the side. His lips eagerly pressed to her newly exposed skin, trailing open-mouthed kisses along the waistband of her panties. “You’re not the only one that’s still angry here,” Spencer mumbled against her skin, tracing his fingers up her thighs to drag her soaked panties down her legs.

“Wait… what are you angry about?” Y/N's face contorted, caught between confusion and irritation.

“I’m angry—“ A wet kiss pressed against her hip bone. “At myself—“ Another wet kiss pressed to her outer thigh. “For making you feel—“ Her face relaxed as he eased her left thigh over his shoulder. “Like I’d ever—“ A series of soft kisses to her inner thigh made her tense with anticipation. “Put anyone else above you, sweetheart.”

In one swift movement, his tongue dragged up her arousal, a guttural groan rumbling against her slick skin as he began to devour her. Y/N’s hands shot out to thread through his hair with a sharp gasp, her mouth dropping open as moans started to spill from her lips. His hands found her ass, gripping her tightly and digging his fingertips into the soft flesh there as he all but suffocated himself in her folds.

"Oh my—" Y/N rasped, cutting herself off with a whine as he let out a needy moan in response.

Her grip on his hair tightened, pulling him impossibly closer as she began to rock her hips against his face. Her eyes squeezed shut, bursts of color flickering behind her eyelids as Spencer worked his mouth against her. His movements alternated between fucking his tongue into her and suckling her clit greedily, the combination hurtling her toward her orgasm.

Spencer was painfully hard, his erection tenting his slacks as he reveled in the taste of her. One of his favorite things to do after a stressful case (which, frankly, was most of them) was bury his face between her thighs. Her taste was truly addictive, and he'd find himself craving it the longer he went without having her. It was as though the more he could make her legs shake around his head and the harder he could make her cum, the faster the stress evaporated from his body. And now he was working extra hard to make her feel good, eager to redeem himself for his behavior.

A tremulous moan ripped through the air as Y/N hunched over, whimpering his name mindlessly as her first orgasm of the night tore through her. Spencer groaned into her as her nails dug into his scalp, the slight sting sending a pang of longing coursing through him as he ached to feel those nails dragging down his back. His movements slowed, easing her through the aftermath of her climax as she panted above him. Once she was whining and shoving his head away, he gently lowered her leg to the ground, standing with a soft chuckle as she swayed slightly.

“Easy, sweetheart. Come on, hold on to me,” Spencer murmured, his hand soothingly rubbing her back as she clung to him.

Y/N let out a breathless laugh, burying her face in his chest as she trembled in his embrace. "God, you're too good at that," she sighed, placing a kiss on his collarbone before pulling back to look up at him. "Take me to our room so I can return the favor?"

The grin on her face was infectious, and Spencer found himself smiling as he nodded. "Yes ma'am," he murmured teasingly.

They stripped their remaining clothes in between giggly kisses, littering the hallway with the fabric before they finally made it into their room. Y/N looped her arms around Spencer's neck, backing him against the closed door as she leaned up to kiss him hungrily. Spencer's hands roamed her body, whimpering into her mouth as her hand trailed down his body to wrap around his cock.

"Honey, you really don't have to—"

Spencer hissed against her lips, his sentence interrupted as she began to pump her hand slowly. "I'm supposed to be making it up to you—"

Y/N shushed him, nipping his lower lip gently before breaking their kiss completely. His cock twitched in her hand from the way she was looking up at him so reverently, and he swallowed hard as he stopped his protesting.

"You always chose women who took and took from you, offering nothing in return. But you deserve everything, my sweet boy. I want to give you all that I am, just like you give me all that you are. Let me make you feel good too, Spence."

There was no room for argument as her words hung in the air, causing his heart to tighten. She was right. He’d always been drawn to selfish partners, always putting their needs before his own. Or, in Cat Adam's case, completely insane women hellbent on draining him of his sanity. That was what made Y/N so surprising to him from the start. Even when they were just colleagues with unspoken crushes, long before they were a couple, she was the one woman who always made a point to put him first.

When he nodded, she grinned in satisfaction, placing one last lingering kiss on his lips before sinking to her knees. Spencer felt like his brain malfunctioned anytime he was lucky enough to see her like this—kiss swollen lips glistening as she wet her lips, or her pupils dilated so much he could barely make out the color in her beautiful irises as she stared up at him. No matter how many times he saw her like this, he would never stop being captivated by how stunning she was.

His head fell back against the door with a solid thunk as his brows pinched together at the feeling of her lips wrapping around the swollen head of his arousal, a sharp exhale leaving his nose as he tried to steady himself. She'd barely touched him and yet he could already feel his stomach tightening simply from the anticipation of what he knew was coming next. A throaty moan filled the air as she swirled her tongue around him before taking his length deeper, gagging slightly as he hit the back of her throat.

"Fuck!" Spencer whined, forcing himself to look down at her instead of squeezing his eyes shut in pleasure. "Love it when you take me so deep, sweetheart. Just like that—"

Y/N smirked smugly around her mouthful, beginning to bob her head up and down his aching cock. One of her favorite things about Spencer was how, despite everyone seeing him as soft-spoken and mild-mannered because he rarely cursed in front of others, he had an absolutely filthy mouth when they did anything even remotely sexual. It felt like her own dirty little secret, and she couldn't help but revel in it.

It didn't take long for his hips to begin bucking gently into her mouth, his hands cradling the back of her head as his chest heaved. Helpless moans slipped from his lips between murmured praises, his hooded eyes locked on her so as not to miss a single second of the show she was putting on for him.

"So fucking pretty with my cock between your lips. My pretty girl. God, I'm the luckiest man to ever exist to have you as my wife—" Spencer crooned between labored breaths, his teeth digging harshly into his lower lip as a guttural groan cut off his rambling. "I'm close— I-I'm— fuck!"

Spencer cried out as Y/N swallowed around his cock, her nose pressing into the soft curls at the base of him as saliva dripped down her chin and onto her chest. The feeling of her moaning around him sent him over the edge, a string of whorish moans and whimpers falling from his open mouth as he painted the back of her throat with his essence. His knees almost buckled as she kept sucking through his orgasm, a pitiful whine leaving him as she finally released him with a slick 'pop'.

Despite feeling like he'd quite literally had his soul sucked from his body, Spencer still held his hand out to help her up from the ground. He pulled her into him as she stood, pressing sweet kisses to the top of her head as he caught his breath. Y/N peppered kisses along his warm skin, more than pleased with herself.

"Get on the bed," Spencer mumbled hoarsely into her hair, landing a gentle smack to her ass.

Y/N eagerly obliged, crawling into the middle of their bed and situating herself amongst their pillows. Her gaze fell on him as he slowly made his way over, her breath hitching at the ravenous look in his eyes.

Spencer had always been a generous lover, making sure she came at least twice before their lovemaking ended. Throughout their relationship, he tended to lean more on the submissive side, happily allowing Y/N to guide their intimate moments any way she saw fit. But after prison, it was like something had snapped in him.

Now, he wasn’t afraid to get rough with her (within her limits, of course). Where he’d once been hesitant to grip too hard or move too fast, he’d now easily leave fingerprint-shaped bruises and pound into her until tears leaked from her eyes from how good it felt. There were still days when he’d let Y/N take the reigns, days when the world was so heavy that all he wanted to do was shut his brain off and let her use him to get herself off, but those days were rare.

Y/N welcomed the change with open arms, excited to let Spencer tap into and explore his more dominant side. Truthfully, she was surprised by how much she enjoyed letting go of control. Her job forced her to be tougher than she liked—always having to stand her ground with local officers or unsubs who underestimated her simply because she was a woman. With Spencer, it felt freeing to leave that hard-edged persona behind, letting him dote on her and take control of her pleasure.

Spencer stopped at the foot of their bed, a wicked look on his face as he observed her. Y/N felt her cheeks warm under the scrutiny of his gaze, shifting restlessly as she waited to see what he was going to do. He kneeled onto the mattress, shuffling forward until he hovered above her.

Instead of speaking, he ducked down and left a lingering kiss on her forehead before lying on his side beside her. Y/N shifted to face him, but he stopped her, keeping her in place on her back. "Like this, sweetheart," he whispered, pressing his lips against her temple. He propped up, guiding his right arm underneath her so he could cradle her head while nipping her earlobe gently.

Spencer trailed a hand down her body, chuckling as she squirmed in his hold. He gripped her thigh firmly, bringing her leg up to rest on his waist to allow him better access to her dripping folds. Spencer began kissing down her neck, relishing in the soft sighs Y/N let out as he angled his hips to nudge the head of his hardening cock against her pussy.

"Need you so bad, Spence—" Y/N whimpered as his hand left her thigh to rub teasing circles against her clit. "Please!"

Spencer hummed, dipping his head down to take her nipple into his mouth as he picked up the pace of his fingers. When she whined louder, he dipped a finger down to tease her entrance and swirled his tongue around her pert bud in retaliation.

"Shh, pretty girl. I'll take care of you," Spencer cooed as he pulled away from her breast. "I always do," he murmured, pressing his finger into her while meeting her lips in a tender kiss.

One of Spencer's favorite things about this position was how accessible it made her. He loved having her spread open for him, unable to do much of anything besides take the pleasure he delivered. He also loved how deep it allowed him to get, able to bring her to the brink over and over because of the constant stimulation to her g-spot.

Moans continued to spill from Y/N's lips as he added a second finger, her hips rolling into his touch frantically. Calling their kiss a kiss seemed too generous—it was more a messy, half-hearted press of lips together. She reached up, tugging at his curls hard as her climax rapidly approached. She was so close—

Spencer swiftly removed his fingers, breaking their kiss to stuff the digits into her mouth before she could complain. He thrust his hips forward, pushing into her in one smooth movement. Y/N let out a muffled cry around his fingers, her eyes squeezing shut at the feeling of him filling her.

"God— shit, baby," Spencer groaned loudly, stilling his hips once he bottomed out to let her adjust. "Always so fucking wet and so fucking tight."

She clenched hard around him, still dangerously close to cumming. Spencer pressed his forehead to her temple as he began to move, thrusting into her in slow, hard thrusts. His right hand stroked her hair while his left slipped from her lips to grip her thigh again, keeping her spread open for him as his pace began to increase.

"So good for me, sweetheart. So perfect," Spencer panted, driving into her in sharp, wild thrusts now. He could tell she was close, and he wanted to feel her falling apart around his cock more than anything.

"Feels so good, Spence," Y/N whined, panting as the pleasure began to coil tightly in her stomach. "Always fuck me so good—"

A choked moan ripped its way from her throat as she came around him, the feeling of her clenching around him causing Spencer's hips to falter as he cursed under his breath. Y/N writhed beneath him, whimpering as he kept his grip tight on her thigh to keep her from clamping her legs shut.

"You can take another one, can't you pretty girl?" Spencer murmured, moving to press hot, open-mouthed kisses to her collarbone as he slowed his hips to help ease her through the overstimulation. "I know you can," he cooed encouragingly. "My precious girl. You always take me so well."

Y/N nodded frantically, the sting of overstimulation beginning to fade back into dizzying pleasure as he fucked into her gently. Spencer pressed a kiss to her shoulder, praising her softly before an idea came to mind. He wanted her to know, without a shadow of a doubt, that no other woman could ever take her place or come before her, right?

What better way to do that than by calling the woman who sparked this argument and showing her exactly what she couldn’t have and who she could never be?

Spencer slowed his thrusts to a halt, chuckling breathlessly as Y/N whined in protest. "On your stomach for me, sweetheart," he coaxed her gently, slipping out of her so she could flip over.

Once she was settled on her front, Spencer slipped a pillow beneath her hips and kissed the back of her head before bending to whisper into her ear.

"How would you feel if I called Sarah right now to show her exactly how much my gorgeous wife means to me—and how insignificant her 'friendship' is in comparison?"

Y/N grinned smugly, shoving her face into the pillow tucked under her head as her face warmed. Was it petty? Absolutely. Had she ever been more turned on than when she heard those words leave her husband's lips? She doubted it. It felt almost primal, staking her claim in such a way. But Sarah more than deserved it for how she'd acted... so fuck it.

"Do it."

Spencer smirked at her muffled words, reaching for his phone and setting it beside them. He lined back up at her entrance, pushing into her with a groan as her warmth enveloped him once more. Once he set a steady rhythm, with Y/N so lost in her pleasure she'd almost forgotten about their plan entirely, he hit dial on Sarah's contact.

Sarah groggily sat up, reaching for her phone as it rang. A sly smirk tugged at her lips when she saw who was calling, and she answered with a hint of excitement. "Well, hey there, handsome. Does your wife know you’re calling me at this hour?" she purred, her grin widening as she waited for him to speak. She knew he was into her—

Sarah’s brows furrowed as she was met with rustling on the other end of the line followed by a very clear moan. Her smile dropped, her mouth gaping open in shock as she listened.

“Fuck, Y/N—“ Spencer’s muffled grunt came through the speakers before he continued, the bed squeaking with each rough thrust. “I love you so fucking much. My beautiful wife. God, sweetheart—"

Sarah dropped the phone, appalled by what was happening on the other end and embarrassed by how confidently she'd answered the phone. One thing was clear—he definitely wasn't into her. Her face burned as she realized she hadn't actually ended the call, the sound of muffled moans streaming through the phone as she hunted for it in the covers. Once it was back in her hands, Sarah ended the call abruptly, blinking hard as she stared down at the screen while she tried to process what had just happened. Spencer had to have butt-dialed her... right?

Spencer chuckled darkly as he realized Sarah had ended the call, reaching up to shove the phone further up the bed and out of the way before he began pounding even harder into Y/N. She was close again, clenching deliciously around him and hurtling him towards his own orgasm just as quickly. He clasped their hands together, shoving them into the mattress as he buried his head in the crook of her neck with a guttural groan.

"I'm cumming— fuck, Spence, fuck!" Y/N cried out, thrashing underneath him as she came so hard her vision blacked at the edges.

Spencer followed suit, burying himself inside of her with a choked groan as he came. His head rested on her shoulder, his hips rocking gently through the aftershocks of their orgasms until they were both whimpering from the sensitivity. He pressed one last, lingering kiss to her flushed skin before rolling off of her and onto the bed with a deep exhale.

Spencer pulled Y/N into him, stroking a hand down her back as she trembled. "Such a good girl, sweetheart. Always do so good for me. My beautiful girl. I love you so much," he whispered reverently, holding her while she came down from her high.

"I love you, Spence. With everything that I am," Y/N whispered back, lifting herself up enough to kiss him tenderly.

It took a few minutes before either of them could get up to get cleaned up, with Spencer guiding her to the bathroom with a hand wrapped around her waist to steady her. Their shower was spent murmuring apologies and praises to each other, the both of them expressing just how much they loved each other between soapy passes of the loofah and tired giggles as they washed away the remnants of the night. And as he wrapped her into a towel, Spencer couldn't help the grin that broke across his face at her quiet words.

"You can absolutely sleep in the bed tonight—just as long as you change the sheets first."

Continued A/N's: I still have a few requests to fill after this and then I'll be posting some original ideas before I open requests back up! Thank you guys so much for the requests, they've been so much fun to write and I hope you guys are enjoying them as much as I am! :') <3

REMINDER: I do NOT give permission for my work to be re-uploaded to any other platforms (c.ai, Tiktok, ao3, etc.) under any circumstances. If you'd like to translate my work, then please ask me before doing so. I know it sounds whiny, but I (as well as many other fanfic writers) spend so much time on these and it's genuinely not okay to take credit for work that isn't yours. It's insulting and completely unnecessary. If I do see my work uploaded anywhere without explicit permission, I WILL say something.

[marthawrites]

Bloodlust

Aemond Targaryen x wife reader

Word count: 2.6k+

About: Aemond, unable to leave you behind in King's Landing on his way to Rook's Rest, returns to you after a successful scouting mission.

Includes: Contains future Fire and Blood spoilers (prelude to battle at rook's rest and a couple of the events leading up to it - mentioned, but not heavily described), and SMUT. Featuring murder (no descriptions of it), blood, Aemond's slightly (?) unhinged, blood eating (this is a fantasy in a work of fiction - please do not do this irl), reader is hot for Aemond's gloves, blowjob, rough Aemond, minor praise, unprotected vaginal sex, brief degradation, creampie, and reader and Aemond say 'i love you' at the end. Whew! Apologies if I missed anything!

Note: Hello lovely reader! This is pure filth. Sorry for the grainy header photo. This specific gif is still driving me insane and was the whole inspiration for this fic! As always, reader is non-descript and I hope you enjoy it! ♥

With Lucerys’ death, the war of ravens came to an end, and the war of fire and blood began.

Prince Aemond Targaryen, your lord husband, barely allowed you from his side much less from his sight. 

Kinslayer everyone called him. In fear, in awe, as a curse. 

After the murder of the King’s princeling son, Jaehaerys Targaryen, King Aegon II would no longer fight this war with quills and ink. He meant to win it with swords and blood. An eye for an eye. A son for a son. King Aegon dehanded his grandsire, Otto Hightower, as Hand of the King and gave the pin to Crison Cole instead. Criston was ravenous for it and immediately began planning an attack against the Blacks.

Duskendale would likely stand little chance against the Greens who were three-thousand men strong. If by some miracle they were able to defend their city, Aemond upon Vhagar and Aegon upon Sunfyre would overwhelm them from above.

Despite the odds being in your husband’s favor, anxiety still gnawed at you from the inside. The hour was late and sleep evaded you at every chance inside your martial tent. War was hardly the place for a woman, but Aemond refused to let you stay behind at the Red Keep while he marched to battle. He trusted your safety to no one except for himself. He deemed there wasn’t a safer place in all of Westeros than with him. You believed him.

You weren’t the only woman traveling with their army. There were other lady wives in similar positions to your own, a few cooks as well, and medics. Judging by some things you’d heard along the way, you weren’t too sure if there wasn’t a gaggle of whores somewhere too. 

The company of other women made you feel significantly better–whether they were whores or healers alike.

No one was allowed in yours and Aemond’s tent, however, and everyone knew that. Regardless if you and Aemond were inside or not, a pair of guards stood watch outside at all times. Tonight, a third armored man joined.

Criston, Aemond, and a small group of soldiers scouted ahead to gather what information they could on Duskendale’s defense. Hours had passed since they left. Ideas, scenarios, and other horrible images filled your brain on what might be happening. The entire scouting party was extremely skilled; the rational part of your brain knew they’d be able to handle anything that crossed their path. Yet… what if Duskendale housed monsters like the Targaryens housed dragons?

There wasn’t any room for a fire inside the tent. Nor was it safe. An oil lamp sat atop a makeshift desk and a few scattered candles lit the darkest corners of the space. Laying on your side, you watched all of the little flames and prayed for your husband’s safe return. 

Perhaps you dozed off, or went into a sort of prayer-induced trance, or simply lost track of time, but a clattering commotion outside seized your attention. Fight, flight, freeze: the instincts of any animal. Leaning up you grabbed a dagger from the makeshift nightstand. You held it in front of you, ready to defend yourself if need be. Fight. You would go down fighting. 

Aemond’s soft voice whooshed inside on a rush of cold night air. “Ābrazȳrys.” wife

“My love!” You said with an exhalation. You laid the dagger back down and stood, stepping to him with hurried strides. “Blessed Seven you returned! I’ve been so worried.”

He walked towards you as you came to him, long steps slow and sure. If he had taken note of the dagger in your hand he made no mention of it. His silence was almost as unnerving as the glint of his dilated eye in the low light.

You meant to throw your arms around his neck and squeeze him against you so you knew him to be real and true, right here and now, rather than a ghost summoned by your worst nightmare. But, something stopped you. You stared up at him, doe-eyed.

The blood splattered across his alabaster face spoke more words than he could vocalize. The smell of him–metallic and heavy–sent your own blood rushing. Even his hair was matted by thick streaks of dark blood. “What happened?”

A serpentine grin slid across his chiseled face and his seeing eye lit with deranged lust. His gloved hands gripped around your forearms, squeezing. “They’re dead.”

“W-who?”

“Duskendale scouts. We found them, questioned them, and killed them,” he answered with  soft-spoken intensity, gripping your arms tighter. “Cole’s speaking with Aegon now. We attack tomorrow. Duskendale will fall, and Rook’s Rest after. We will cripple my half-sister and uncle’s strategy before they gain it.”

Your pulse hammered against your chest. Behind your ears. You weren’t sure if Aemond realized how harshly he held your arms. It hurt. “Th-that’s wonderful news,” you stammered, looking up at him with a mixture of awe and creeping fright. “Are you hurt?”

He shook his head and let go of your arms. Then, he held your face as he crashed his mouth down to yours, kissing you with victory that smelled, and tasted, of copper. “My brother will have his throne,” he rasped against your mouth. “My whore of a sister and her bastard horde will never claim what is Aegon’s by right.”

You whimpered against his mouth, against his words, melting into him as he wrapped his arms around your waist and hip. Lifting your hands to grip onto the front of his dark green doublet, your breath caught in your throat. Blood stained the white of your chemise where he had squeezed your forearms. It looked nearly black in the tent’s candlelight. Leaning back half a step, you looked down your body and saw the front of you stained as well. Not only was his face and hair speckled with blood, but his new military garb was covered in it. “Aemond…!”

“Shh, my sweet wife,” he said against your neck, nipping the sensitive flesh.

Confusion, elation, and lust roared through your body, all of them trying to outdo each other. None of the emotions won. They only succeeded in tightening the muscles of your belly and making your entire nervous system quiver. Why were you like this? Why did your prince husband covered in other people’s blood make you yearn with dark desire? Goosebumps rose on your skin as Aemond nipped, kissed, and sucked all along your neck and shoulder. On instinct, you began to work open the buttons on his overcoat; you’d only seen him in this garb a few times, and your fingers fumbled with inexperience over them.

“I’d do it all again,” he said by your ear. “I will do it again. All across the Seven Kingdoms.”

You understood his meaning. You heard what he left unsaid. Pulling back, you peered up into his seeing eye. A hundred emotions lay bare for you to see: rage, satisfaction, confidence, hunger. “Who are you doing it for?” You asked softly.

“For my brother. For my hatred of my half-sister. For you.”

Aemond’s leather glove was warm when you grabbed his hand–the blood on it slightly sticky to your bare touch–and you nuzzled your face into it. “My sweet, dark prince,” you cooed, kissing his palm. His fingers. Languid. Dizzy on the intoxicating aura radiating off him. You bit the tip of one finger, sly; blood that certainly wasn’t your husbands smeared your mouth.

Witnessing your reverence had Aemond groaning in low inaudible High Valyrian. His soft raspy voice praised you in words you didn’t know. With his free hand he pulled you against him, his hard cock pressing firmly against the soft span of your belly.

You moaned behind his hand. “You will win this war for your brother,” you said adoringly. “Not Crison, not Rosby, or Stokeworth, or anyone else. You and Vhagar.” The feeling of him against your belly had embers searing your senses. Without allowing yourself to think twice about it, you licked one of his gloved fingers. The leather was smooth beneath your tongue, and your tastebuds exploded with the coppery taste of some man’s blood.

Aemond fucking groaned. 

You did it again.

Tension sparked down your spine like lightning and that delicate space between your thighs clenched around nothing. Despite the barriers of clothing between you two you swore you felt him throb. “You are the only weapon Aegon needs.”

He watched in fascination as you shamelessly licked the bloodshed from his glove. He nearly spent in his pants as you took his thumb into your mouth, sucking. “My filthy wife,” he hissed, pulling you further into him. He kissed you again and this time he tasted blood. He licked into your mouth, seeking it deeper. 

Each little moan his passion coaxed from you, he swallowed whole. Once again you began fumbling with the front of his attire, working the buttons open until you were able to push it off his shoulders. Beneath he wore a simple linen shirt, and you helped tug that off, too. With one final nip to his bottom lip you began to sink down to your knees before him.

Aemond watched you hungerly. 

You could unbuckle his belt behind your back by now–it stood no chance as you deftly slid it open. The front of his pants didn’t fight you as his tunic did. You pulled them down enough to free his cock, and you wasted no time in pressing deliberate, hot, open-mouthed kisses along it. You didn’t care that he was unwashed. If anything, the scent of leather, sweat, and battle on him made your desire boil over. Saliva instinctively collected in your mouth, and your eager kisses soon had your tongue sliding along him. By the time you wrapped your soft, lovely mouth around him it was lewd, and wet, and slow. You looked up at him, watching him unravel as you made a sensuous show of swallowing as much of him as you could.

Aemond’s eye hooded as he watched you. He would never fucking tire of watching you take him whole–your mouth or your cunt. Blood still streaked your exquisite features. It made the whole thing obscene. Blood from men he killed to protect his brother. To keep the throne for him. To protect you. “Fucking hells–,” he hissed. “There… yeah, oh yeah, hold my cock in that little throat of yours.”

Tears brimmed your eyes as you held, drool already threatening to dribble down the swell of your lip onto your chin. You knew your husband liked it slow and messy like this. You knew he’d have the muscles of your throat flex around him until your head became dizzy from lack of air. You loved it–and he knew that. You held onto his thighs for support, cunt soaked and throbbing between your legs.

He pulled back slightly, before pushing forward, giving your slobbering mouth deep shallow thrusts. “I love how you sound gagging,” he praised, threading his gloved hand into your hair.

You nodded, tears still threatening to leave your eyes, moaning deep in your throat to his lecherous praise.

With a handful of your hair your prince husband bobbed your head along his cock for his pleasure, fucking into your mouth with perfect timing. He tipped his head back. He could never get enough of this.

His strokes were getting longer and quicker, now, a sure sign that he was getting close to finishing. You held on all the while, savoring the rough treatment as much, or perhaps more, than he was.

Finally, he stopped. Looking down at you again he said, out of breath, “I want to fill your cunny tonight, not your mouth.” Then, he clicked his tongue and said, “up.” He helped you stand, and before he could stop himself he was kissing you again, wild and voracious, licking away any trace of blood he had left on your face from earlier. He walked you backwards to the bed all the while and only stopped when the backs of your legs bumped into the cot. Smirking, he helped you out of your shift. He pushed you back onto it before finally stepping out of his pants and boots. 

Below him, you didn’t even care that his Targaryen hair was clumped with dried bits of blood. No, all you cared about was the weight of his cock as he settled it against you. Hot, heavy, smooth. He was perfect. All of him was perfect.

He squeezed your breasts in his hands–he was still wearing those fucking gloves! Of course he took everything off except for those!–rumbling his appreciation at the softness of them. His cock lined up with you effortlessly. With a push of his hips, he sunk into you. 

The stretch of him, the fullness of him, the sensation of being as close to him as you ever could be, had your eyes rolling closed and mouth parting open. In that same effortless manner, your legs wrapped around his trim waist. You were so wet that your body immediately yielded to him. You bit back a moan, not wanting to draw attention from anyone who might be in earshot of your tent.

Above you, Aemond smiled a dark smile. Shadows danced across his features and made the angular lines of his face sharper. “How does it feel to be right where you belong? Under me, full of me, wet as a maiden and hungry as a whore?”

Your legs flexed around him tighter. Heat bloomed beneath your face. “S-so fucking good..!”

He could see you holding back your sounds of pleasure. “Let them hear you,” he said, thrusting into you harder. Deeper. “Open that pretty mouth and let them hear.” Fingers pinched your nipples as he plunged into you again and again, filling you to your body’s end.

Even if he wanted you to stay quiet there was no way you could. Your sounds of pleasure spilled from your mouth as he nearly fucked you through the cot. It was as divine as it was harsh. Rough as it was loving. You weren't going to last long. Aemond wouldn’t either. “God–! Aemond..!” His name left your mouth in a wanton gasp, back arching.

With your mouth hanging open, he pushed two fingers inside to muffle some of those beautiful noises. “My pretty wife overwhelmed with bloodlust,” he crooned, tilting his head as he watched your fucked-out expressions.  “Come with me,” he rasped, cock swelling impossibly harder. “Come with me.”

You did. The tension in your belly snapped, and any restraint you were holding vanished. Your thighs quivered around him. The emotion and sensation that overcame you was intense and all consuming. Aemond, Aemond, Aemond. You’d give him a babe tonight. You knew you would.

He throbbed inside your flexing and relaxing walls, his seed filling you past the brim of your cunt. It dribbled out of you while his thrusts slowed. His breath came heavy and labored, face finally softening in the orange glow of the tent. “Vok. perfect You are so perfect,” he whispered, pressing his forehead to yours as you both came down from the heights of shared orgasm.

Your legs loosened around him until they lay open, allowing him to slip out from the cradle of your body. “Duskendale will fall tomorrow,” you said to him, kissing him gently. “You will be the victor.”

He laid beside you, then, and pulled you against him so you were laying on your sides face to face. “Anyone who dare face me will fall. The entire realm will fall before me,” he answered with the softest utmost confidence.

Nodding, you smiled and kissed him again. “The world is yours, my prince. With fire and blood.”

“With fire and blood,” he proclaimed, hooking your leg over his waist. Then, he whispered, “I love you.”

And you said it back, meaning it wholly.

-

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider a follow, and/or reblog, and/or letting me know as it all makes me vvvery happy! ♥

Masterlist

See comment section for my main taglist and Aemond taglist! To be added or removed from either, please hit me up!

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

To continue riffing on the marriage/tradition stuff because that’s one of the themes I’m obsessed with in her discography, it’s fascinating because it would be easy to reduce it to, “she’s adhering to patriarchal societal norms in chasing the traditional nuclear family and that’s why she throws herself into these relationships,” but it’s just so reductive to well, how human beings exist in the world. Just because it’s a societal pressure doesn’t mean some people don’t genuinely want to get married or have families.

Yes, she’s been singing about it right back to her first album when she as 16. Yes, her view on it has evolved, from marrying the sweet neighbor boy to the princess fairytale early on (debut/fearless), to the disillusionment that increasingly pushed it out of the narrative (speak now/red/1989), to slowly letting herself believe in forever again (rep), to seemingly actually committed (lover), to questioning what that means (folklore/evermore) to trying to reconcile what it means for her current life (midnights). Every relationship she experienced throughout those periods informed those views and how *she* pursued it.

I think what makes it so interesting on TTPD is that it is EVERYWHERE, as I mentioned in my previous post about it. And it’s unsettling because it’s not just in the setting we expect it to be — e.g. a long term partner she’d previously indicated she was ready to marry — but also in songs about a man who swooped in to save her when she was low only to break her apart, in thinly-veiled fantasies about strange bedfellow neighbours, another thinly-veiled story about marrying the person you want consequences be damned, in taunting your on again/off again partner in a bar (e.g. i want to smash your bike or be your wife).

And it’d be easy to chalk it up to, well she’s in her 30s and the clock is ticking, she’s just obsessive! And there’s a nugget there about women and their bodies and both the lauding and weaponization thereof and everything that personally I’m dying to talk about at some point. But when it comes down to it, I’m willing to bet that the reason why it’s everywhere is because THAT WAS HER LIFE. That was the plan she’d taken for granted for so long — and I don’t just mean in a general sense as a girl in the world — but in the very real, very tangible way she was living her life and in the circumstances that led to what would be written about in TTPD. By working out all these scenarios through her songs (and tbh in whatever she was doing IRL that inspired them), she was grappling with and grieving the loss of the life she thought was ahead of her. We’ve talked about how pervasive grief has been on her recent albums, in all kinds of forms, and I think this is kind of the culmination of all of those worries.

She’s not the girl with the paper ring and all’s well did not end well to end up with him. She’s not the girl who has his midnights after cleaning up bottles on New Year’s Day. She couldn’t give him her wild or a child because it wasn’t enough. She may have even been the self-fulfilling prophecy of the girl who is fucked in the head, but feels more like the one left out on the landing.

So in TTPD, she is all of these things. She’s the neglected wife whose husband cheats on her so she runs off with an old flame. She’s the one who gets the jewel on her ring finger and talks about babies because he says it’s love. She’s the woman whose partner once made a promise but never followed through. She’s the hell-raiser who follows love in a different kind of getaway car while the town calls her mad, consequences be damned, but joke’s on them because she gets the wedding in the end anyway. She’s the wife who feeds her cheating husband to the swamps of Florida. She gets swept off her feet by an old flame to run down the aisle. SHE’S the one who gets to decide if she’s gonna marry him or decimate him (be his wife or smash his bike). She’s the girl who didn’t become the wife while she watches the one that got away marry his. She’s the woman scorned who has to call the whole thing off. She’s the saucy girl who bets her new lover is gonna marry her for real. She’s sold off as chattel to the highest bidder in an arranged marriage. She’s the young girl starry-eyed with the dreams she grew up with only to have them go up in flames, leaving only her pen behind to turn it into art.

She navigates all these scenarios because in the end, she isn’t any of them and she is all of them. She’s mourning what she gave up, mourning what she’s already lost, mourning the time she feels she wasted and could have started over. She’s mourning any number of women she could have been if she’d just tried something else, but also mourning that ultimately much of this was out of her hands. She’s grappling with a past that can’t change and a future that doesn’t exist. Every one of these scenarios is a way her life could have gone with any number of different decisions, but in the end, none of that matters, because she is who she is and what happened happened.

Obviously there’s a lot more going on in the album; she’s not just processing the end of relationships, she’s processing her fame and career and health and harassment and trauma and struggles and misogyny and any number of things in frankly shocking ways. But, I think there’s also no denying that this very important thing — the step many young adults expect to take in their lives — precipitated a whole lot of what went on, and may have even had a domino effect on all the other issues explored. It’s raw and vulnerable and ugly and funny and human.

Anyway apparently I’m back and thinking.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Ortho flying with three floating tablets (representing his parents and Idia) behind him is such a MagiCammable moment, according to Cater and his sisters lol

Family means Nobody is Left Behind or Forgotten.

"Oh my gosh! Who's this little cutie patootie?!"

"W-Wah...!" Ortho scarcely had any time to formulate an appropriate reaction before he was accosted from both sides. They had leapt out from the Queen of Hearts' statue, like jaguars pouncing on unsuspecting prey. The three tablets floating beside Ortho were sent spiraling.

"B-Bwah?!" Idia sputtered from his end, eyes bulging at what his video feed was picking up. There was his poor little brother, smothered by a pair of flashy women. "A normie sneak attack!?"

To Idia's horror, he could see painted nails studded with jewelry running all over the boy's face and hair. He leapt out of his gaming chair, seizing his computer monitor with both hands.

"C-Calm down, Ortho! CALM DOWN, DON'T PANIC!! Y-Your big brother will help you out of this pinch... e-except I don't know how to deal with 3D women!! Th-There's no dialogue selection option IRL...!!"

"You're the one panicking the most here, nii-san..."

"Now, Idia--" their father began--cool, level-headed.

"Hold on, dear," his wife interrupted. "Don't you think it's too soon to intervene?"

"... What are you saying?"

"I mean, these girls are only appreciating Or-kun's cuteness, right? I don't think there's anything wrong with acknowledging that! In fact, the world should be more familiar with how adorable both of our sons are...!"

"B-Betrayed by the mom?!"

"Ahahah... Sorry, Shroud fam~" Cater called as he, too, stepped out from his spot behind a statue. He didn't look particularly apologetic, not with that growing grin tugging at his mouth. "It looks like my sisters took an interest in your youngest. I guess it's not every day you see a bot as advanced as Ortho-chan is, but still!"

"J-Just what I needed... Another sparkly extrovert to complicate this scenario!!" Idia moaned, clutching at his forehead.

"You have to get a pic of us together, Cater!" one sister pouted. "This is too cool not to! Be sure to get the tablets in the shot too, okay?"

"Alright, I'll try." He casually produced his phone. "Everybody has to smush together first though, and Idia-kun's kinda out of frame--"

"Are you, like, for reals a robot?" the other sister demanded, ogling Ortho's metallic body. "That's not cosplay, right?"

"Hehe, nope! I'm one hundred percent custom built by my nii-san."

Idia loudly snorted, far less amused than his brother was. "Cosplay? Are you blind? I'm insulted that you'd even suggest such a stupid idea. Check out the rocket boosters in his feet, the complex circuity in his chassis, the artificial intelligence with a limitless capacity to learn. It's all Ortho."

"That's right! Our Idia built Or-kun from scratch all on his own!" Mrs. Shroud chirped. "Ahhh, our sons are our pride and joy! Aren't they, Papa?"

Mr. Shroud drew out a sigh. "... Yes, dear."

Their tablets drew close and snuggled (or attempted to). Idia could only imagine that his parents had embraced one another on the other end of the line. Hot pink and neon blue twinning.

"Oh, bleh." He rolled his eyes. Mom and dad are being gross and mushy in public again.

Suddenly, his video feed jerked down. Idia got a chunk of pavement, then an eyeful of twinkling makeup and nails. The first of the Diamond sisters had seized his tablet, posing with it in front of her.

"Is he, like, in frame now?" she asked Cater, who flashed her a thumbs up.

"Perfect~ Now everyone else can squeeze in!"

At Cater's direction, his other sister rushed over. Ortho was tugged along like a balloon on a string--though he didn't put up any resistance. The Shroud parents allowed their tablets to lower to the appropriate height for the picture. Cater held his phone out, the camera flipped.

All eager for the photograph except for one.

"D-Don't I get a say in this?!" Idia weakly protested.

Cater laughed--and it sounded a little mean to Idia, as light-hearted as it was. "Sure, you get a say in this! I'll let you know what to say: cheese!"

CLICK!

The selfie was taken. The Diamonds and the Shrouds, immortalized in a shared image.

[deerboybreeder]

UPDATED PINNED LETS GOOOO!

[PraiseMe Link!] [Tellonym Link!] (Send me threats and scary things!)

Hi, I'm Deer but you can call me whatever you want idc! Im a trans man and use he/it pronouns (or any pronouns in kink), I'm in my late 20's, and my blog is primarily focused on breeding and pregnancy! However lots of my other kinks will be present here, such as cnc, kidnapping, intox, monsterfucking, hucow and gender play- this includes both force detrans and forcemasc!

Inbox and DMs are open, but keep in mind:

-i am fat! That's just a fact, don't go into this assuming I'm skinny

-I've been on testosterone for several months, and I am starting to be read as a man in my day to day life!

-I AM TAKEN and won't get in a relationship with you. I do have permission for roleplay, so assume unless stated otherwise that I'm playing a role here. I DO NOT SEND PICS BECAUSE OF THIS!!! they own my body ❤️

You Can: talk to me about impregnation, forced impregnation, breeding, pregnancy in general, reduce me to my womb and tits (PLEASE), send fantasies about breeding boys girls and anyone else, hunting deerboys (for breeding or otherwise), monsterfucking, anything hucow related, light blackmail, and forced marriage! I talk about it less here, but I'm also into having parts of me hacked off for meat- feel free to bring that up if you want but I don't expect much bc it's niche. I'm also a traumagenic system of many, so feel free to ask about that/take advantage of it!

Misgendering is good (but I really prefer degendering + dehumanization), forced feminization and forced detransition especially from pregnancy, forcemasc and trans superiority (ESP transfem superiority ❤️). See below the cut for specific boundaries about that!

I also genuinely love being sent: rape threats, stalking threats, degrading messages, porn, insults, messages that imply I'm not a real man (though don't extend this to all trans ppl that's a turn off), messages that call me stupid, and graphic violent threats. If it's not on my limits list, it's probably ok to send!

You can't: ASK FOR PICS, or talk to me about scat/piss, fauxcest/incest, raceplay, beast (not monsterfucker but like real animals). Don't imply I'd cheat on my partners either. Outside of kink warning that if I ever feel like someone actually has my personal information/location, I will delete the blog immediately. So if you want to keep playing with me, don't.

DMS ONLY: Due to privacy and the way Tumblr nukes blogs, I'll only engage with the following in DMs- hunger play, asking about my trauma, and Im CONSIDERING allowing blackmail play if we have a rapport built. I also will do ageplay in DMs but I identify as a younger teen in that space and not a little-little, and won't use family-related terms.

Required reading over! Read all of the above or I'll stomp you to death with my hooves!

Genuinely for blackmail play I gotta trust you. Assume everything here I mention irl is roleplay unless stated otherwise! I am genuinely pumping to induce lactation though, that's real, and so is me dressing more feminine on and off- that's not for detrans reasons but because I'm GNC. The god pregnancy is ALSO real, but some aspects are embellished to make it fit on the kink blog. Feel free to ask about that!

Detrans specific boundaries!

The biggest thing is don't imply all other trans people are not actually their gender. I'm okay with classing "fakeboys" as a group and being considered part of that group, but that's exclusively people who also have a detrans kink. I'm also more likely to engage with this kink with other trans people, and in a much harder context than I would with a cis person.

I'm okay with being called almost any term except for woman- even in the context of kink, I can't stand being called a woman. A womb, a girl, wife, even using she/her on me is fine, just not woman. In my kink narrative, women have a level of personhood that I can't ever have! I also am fine with a specific kind of "misogyny lite" play that's exclusive for fakeboys- fakeboys and ftm girls are subject to the typical "you exist to make babies and be in the kitchen and serve", whereas real trans men, cis men, nonbinary people, and women (both cis and trans) are granted full autonomy and agency.

I'm okay with being told I'm "lying" about being a boy/man, and being made to "go back" to being a girl/cunt/womb/whore/whatever, but what's BEST is breaking me. Sure, I was always a boy, if a fake one, but you decide to break me into a good girl for you and ruin me instead. That's better than anything else! It's also totally okay to do "light" misgendering/force fem to me- encouraging me to dress more femininely due to me being GNC and things like that, only to tell me later it's because you want me feminized.

[restesdelune]

****Meet the Grimes****

A second chance & heartbreak

A new life on the road

A united front

A well deserved reunion

What a family ❤️‍🔥

The Last Grimes

Some context before a rant:

I can’t believe some people still exclude Michonne and RJ from the Grimes family. I saw an old post with Judith tagged as #TheLastGrimes, and a recent one claiming Michonne wasn’t Judy’s mother? I beg your pardon? (yes, it was on twitter).

Since the early days on the mothership, TWDU fandom has been so oblivious to racist bias and tropes, to the point of marginalizing Michonne fucking Grimes from her own family, the hero, supermom and wife, who *actually* raised "the last Grimes" mind you!

We really don’t respect Black women, their labour, their love and loyalty, neither irl nor in fiction.

This shows up everyday in very real ways in our lives. Whether for Black girls, gals, wives, girlfriends, single mothers, baby mamas, widows and their children. Whether they gave birth to their children or not, whether they’re mixed or not, Black motherhood is systematically denigrated. I wouldn’t recommend to anyone who doesn’t see how disastrous these optics are to engage with this.

The disrespect of Black women, the erasure of mixed children, claiming ownership of kids one didn’t raise, minimizing the bonds of a new family... See, I don’t fuck with that bs and it will be read as anti-Blackness and misogynoir on my part. People can argue with a wall.

The Grimes all chose each other, went to hell, and only some came back. A lot of us wanted nothing more than to see them reunited and finally at peace, and we did. Such canon is too much for some. Not for me. It was well-earned, by the characters as well as by the audience, and so refreshing in such cynical times. On one hand, I wish I could see more of them, on the other, I’d rather not have anyone mess it up (shout out to our TOWL S2 truthers out there though ^^).

I honestly pity those who’ve imprisoned themselves in blood lineages and narrow 'legitimate' families, unable to grasp the gifts of community and found family in a freaking post apo zombie show. That must honestly be depressing in deed...

Whether we are called dramatic or aggressive, Richonners will keep calling this out, especially Black women who don’t even need to do anything to deserve those exhausted epithets in everyday life. We see the double standards, we see the fans defending their buddies’ racist takes, we see the apparently infinite plausible deniability and benefit of the doubt afforded to some, never to others. It's not bright, it's not new, and we know the game.

No wonder this fandom can feel so segregated sometimes.

Anyway, if you’d like for me to expand on this lmk, I’ll always have more to share. Thanks for reading.

Happy Shipping

[olderthannetfic]

https://olderthannetfic.tumblr.com/post/768968789660467200/this-is-kind-of-late-but-in-response-to-fandoms#notes this is a nitpick, but i wish people would stop saying shit like "straight people can't experience biphobia." if a straight dude gets called a f*g that's still homophobic even if he isn't gay. if a straight woman has a dalliance with another woman to experiment, for instance, and she is attacked for that in some way, that's still biphobia or homophobia even if she's straight. it's just a really reductive way of understanding oppression. if a darker-skinned white person is attacked out of perception that they're not white, idk what structural thing you would say is motivating that but "racism," etc. and that's also how we get these bonkers takes that trans men can't "experience misogyny" when they are oppressed for being seen as women, or by stuff like restrictions on abortion and birth control. those restrictions are motivated by misogyny even if not every person they affect are women. but more importantly - this ask gets it the wrong way around. the "biphobia is just heterophobia" is based on the misconception that it's always phobia toward bi people's opposite-sex attraction. F/F and M/M fans being biphobic doesn't disprove that. the more relevant thing is when fans of an F/M ship are threatened by the idea that one of those characters might also experience same-sex attraction. which, tbh, that's where i see the bulk of the biphobia in fandom these days. i feel like very few M/M and F/F shippers these days are unaware of the existence of bisexuality or the potential for bi headcanons. if anything, i feel like i see more people attacked as "biphobic" just for disagreeing with a popular bi headcanon that people started to treat like it was canon rather than fanon, than genuine biphobia dealing with M/M and F/F ships. (i'm sure it's still around, especially since there's still way too much in the IRL gay and lesbian communities. but i see less of it personally) but have you guys spent much time in het-heavy fandoms? like all the drama that was going on with Bridgerton earlier this year? a lot of het-only shippers will still throw a huge fit at anyone perceiving their favs as bi, and genuinely seem to not understand that, say, a man can be attracted to both men and women and still be completely faithful to a wife/girlfriend in a monogamous relationship. like they still seem to see his bisexuality as making him "a little bit gay" or even suggesting he's not really into women at all. and then with bi women, a lot of them see headcanoning a woman in an F/M relationship that way as saying she's a slut. in a lot of het-focusd and het-only fandom, bisexuality is still anathema and a lot of people fundamentally don't seem to understand what it is. the biphobia is way more rampant than it is anywhere in M/M or F/F fandom these days. if you really want evidence that biphobia is not just phobia toward "the straight side" that's way better evidence of that point.

--

[95jezzica]

What is your opinion on SuFin from a Swedish perspective?

I think I've talked about this in the past, but I don't mind going into it again with hopefully mentioning at least SOME things I haven't already mentioned.

Now, I should start with the fact I personally really like SuFin, but used to HATE the pairing in the past because how the fandom portrayed them both. Nowadays I mostly keep to my own corner and only really talk with a few people, so I've grown to love SuFin more based on canon and my own ideas for them.

To be honest I tend to focus more on the Hetalia characters as persons in general with a few historical references/trivia, but honestly, they have a lot of potential together.

Sweden is sweet and shy, but he has mischievous and rebellious sides as well. He also cares a lot about the people around him. (This can especially be seen with how he constantly defends Iceland and how he interacts with Sealand and Ladonia). Though his feelings for Finland is canon he also doesn't pressure Finland for an answer/feelings in return.

Meanwhile Finland is a caring and kind person, and he's not afraid of constantly standing up to people who finds Sweden intimidating. Finland is the person who constantly recognizes that while Sweden "looks scary", Sweden is also a very kind person.

Now, in canon, we actually don't know if Finland returns Sweden's romantic feelings, but it's obvious they still care a lot about each other a great deal.

With that said, if they became a couple I think it'd happen closer to modern time, and while I personally headcanon Finland loves Sweden back, I also think it took Finland a long time to decide if he even wanted a romantic relationship despite his own and Sweden's obvious feelings.

Now, I don't believe (hws) Sweden himself would ever do something to hurt (hws) Finland, but we also have to keep in mind the Swedish leadership and government haven't always been very kind to the Finnish people. Being in the Swedish Empire wasn't great for (irl) Finland - for a long time it was just better than being under one of the other countries in the area.

Anyway, at best there would be a weird power imbalance between (hws) Sweden and Finland if they had a romantic relationship somewhere between 1000-1900, even if Sweden himself never intends/intended for it - not to mention homosexuality wasn't even accepted or acknowledged at the time as something fairly common.

Most people hc Finland as Bi or Pan, so Finland could likely "pass" in the past by showing interest in women and ignoring any of his feelings towards non-binary people and/or men. But Sweden is canon homosexual, who only really have shown romantic interest for Finland in canon. It's more likely Sweden (tried to) bury his feelings deep, deep inside to not literally get killed by people for who he is.

Fans also (STILL) love to joke/bring up Sweden calling Finland his wife, but in canon Sweden only did it ONCE and then stopped when Finland protested against it. No matter what you think Sweden's reason was for calling Finland his wife, he stopped after Finland told him No.

I repeat, Sweden STOPPED.

He respects and respected Finland. Sweden listened when Finland said he didn't want to be called "wife".

So yes, I think they'd work really well together and have a sweet and loving relationship - but it would take a long time for them to make anything official.

We have a LOT canon moments between them. Everything from them adopting Hanatamago together, Sweden getting kids, to them constantly visiting each other, and Finland constantly defending Sweden from people who finds his looks intimidating - just to mention a few things.

Honestly, they'd probably be an "inofficial couple" for YEARS before they became official, but they'd get there eventually. Through both good and bad they've been there for each other for +1000 years at this point.

They're nations, and they can afford to take it slow.

[meowm1x]

i know it was from several days ago but it was so funny to see The Discourse slide into telling trans women that: "if you're a misandrist you're actually potentially a transmisogynist so think twice before being mean to men :(". like a think some of you truly still have weird ideas in your head that trans women aren't actual women seperate from men when you say shit like that. work on that fucking bullshit.

"what about if their egg isn't cracked yet" the amount of stories i've heard from trans women prior to their realisation that are "yeah i never felt like i fit in with most guys, they made me super uncomfortable, and if i called out their behaviour i was bullied for it. so glad i'm friends with girls and am one!" is fairly common, so yknow what i don't think people rightfully criticising cis dude's misogyny is going to stop trans women from realising they are women, actually.

never mind the fact that a lot of cis dudes are the perpetuators of violent acts of transmisogyny*. because i think some people forget that misogyny is in fact a form of bigotry and not just some buzzword. trans women not wanting to be around their bigots is more than just valid, sometimes it's a necessity for safety. *anyone is capable of such, but statistically, a lot of violent crimes towards women are commited by cis men.

and also don't think i don't notice the fuckin lesbophobia in a lot of those takes too! "omg the trans women who say they hate men is so fucked up :(" not only are trans women allowed to not want to have their lives centered around men, but trans lesbians exist and literally have NO fucking desire for men AT ALL. and yes i've seen some certain popular non-lesbian bloggers take major issue with this and it's obvious. do fucking better for your lesbian sisters actually!

anyway shout out to the time my wife, a lesbian trans woman, got called a TERF for her "misandry" on this website. when i told her about what was going on currently she just laughed wryly. like if some of those weak ass man defenders heard some of the shit she says irl, she'd be on SO many blocklists lmaooo

[go-ninjago-ninja-go]

Intro thinggies

(We made them pick a emoji so we can shorthand names when posting !!)

🥧 - I'm Arin, I thought of doing this and convinced the others to join :) He/they, half human half Oni, body is currently reforming and I am in an immense amount of pain 👍

🐈‍⬛ = Sora here, I like tech, I'm catkin imperial, trans, and I like women. She/They.

❤️‍🔥 - MY NAME'S WYLD!!!!!! I'm a dragon (the one doctor guy said I'm only a fourth dragon and I'm mostly chi-eagle and Cloudwing BUT I DON'T CARE) MY GENDER IS DRAGON I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU CALL ME!!!!!!! I love my wife Roby :333

💻 - I'm P.I.X.A.L. and my father is Cyrus Borg. that's all you get from me. Any pronouns.

❄️ - I am Zane Julien, a nindroid. Arin said this would be good for social interaction, so I guess I will join. Any pronouns work for me!

💧 - The name's Nya! Half human half serpentine from both sides (don't ask) and Pix said it was "post natal merging" with a sea serpent or something so I'm effectively a tribrid! She/It please, thinking I might be otherkin so, yeah, that's cool.

🔥 - Red Ninja, and Master of Fire, Kai here! half human half serpentine like my sister! Trans demigirl(I think), She/Any, but use she/her more

🍰 - idk, name's Cole, I like cake, I'm half shapeshifter cus of my mom, I like men and I go by He/They

⚡ - I'm Jay, uhhhh I still cant remember too much but I know I like Nya a lot and Kai and I play video games a lot. Transman or whatevr he/they, I have ADHD, want anything else? 

🐉 - Green Ninja, grandson of the FSM, Lloyd Garmadon. Fourth dragon fourth oni half human(More or less) intersex, questioning, and I go by anything BUT femme pronouns.

💀 - Bonzle. Older than u, She/Her or whtevr

//IMPORTANT OOC:

🌌 will be my shorthand if needed.

#not ninjaposting is for the rp shit

[ON] Means you may do the things, [OFF] means I will delete asks with them (Drawing from PKMN IRL)

(Malice pretty much just means being mean.)

Magic anon [ON] (Doing something magic related to the characters)

Mail/Unmail/Mail Malice [ON] (Giving/Taking/Sending something to hurt someone)

Dream/Dream Malice [ON] (Dreams and Nightmares respectively)

Non Ninja posting [ON] (Regular roleplay)

Ships: Survivalshipping, Jaya, Kailor, Pixane, Geode

Link to the AU lore doc:

Wip of the monastery:

Octogon outter walls, and the main gate a few yards south

Ninjargon translator:

[godeaterazathoth]

Issues I have with ikevamp

That I’m venting here because they won’t leave my skull

*Content warning, we’re talking about men in the past, they did some bad stuff*

Part 1, historical inaccuracies

I’m I history nut so this really gets to me, since I know the deep details of these peoples lives.

The timeline, ok so the game takes place in 18th France, correct me if I’m wrong but I think it is in the second empire (1852-1870) considered there is a noble class, yet you can clearly see the Eiffel Tower which was completed in 1889, there is no mention of the 1889 exposition, so it must be after the tower had become permanent, by then the 3rd republic was around, if we are in the republic the Count wouldn’t be called that by the npcs at all the parties he goes to, no matter which we’re in, NOBODY mentions Napoleon III at, NOT EVAN HIS UNCLE (WHOSE SOMEHOW BECAME CASS CONSCIOUS!)

How does the time travel work, example, Dazai died in 1948, his plan was seemingly to wait until he’s born in 1909 then kill himself as a baby, but then he decides to use the magic door, what are the consequences of 2 Dazais existing at once or him erasing himself from history, he’s a pretty important literary figure, does someone else replace him or does the space time continuum collapse?? Is the future Vlad sees set in stone or can it be changed, just copy someone else’s time travel bit!!!

So straight up these guys aren’t who they say they are, we’ll go through 1 by 1

Napoleon- doesn’t mention he left the love of his life to marry a girl 20 years his junior (like think how interesting it would be if he’s conflicted about love cuz he had to give it up for political reasons) -that scene where MC talks about all the ‘good’ that he did in Europe, like committing war crimes against the Spanish and Portuguese and Eastern Europeans, being a coloniser, killing the slaves he freed when they asked for more rights, killing thousands of men in a meaningless war (ligit H*tler vibes)

Arthur- goofy irl, literally believed in fairies, had 5 children and married twice but he never mentions any of this, he cheated on his first wife while she was dying of TB, he was a liberal unionist (tldr didn’t like Irish people) he was anti-immigration, might have committed fraud. We’ll get to the other issues I have with him.

Leonardo- fruity as hell, vegetarian

Mozart- they got his character completely wrong, the guy was a complete man child, vain, broke, by the end of his life his career fell off (Beethoven better composer), in love with his cousin 🤢, had a s*at fetish 🤢🤢🤢. The hole Salieri thing didn’t happen.

Vincent- they made him too mentally stable, I’m all for him being meek, but the guy had serious issues that they ignore, he ate paint thinner, was rejected by his both crushes, WHY DOES HE HAVE BOTH EARS, DID IT GROW BACK, THEY SHOULD HAVE LEFT HIM WITH ONLY ONE, also he should be ginger smh. Oh yeah and they never mentioned the s*ecide attempt.

Theo- doesn’t mention his wife, or son, WHO HE NAMED AFTER VINCENT, his wife is the person responsible for Vincent’s work not being completely forgotten, was way nicer irl.

Issac- tbh hotter irl, low key ace, maybe a fruit, kinda mean, the only thing they got right was the major virgin vibes.

Jean- WHY MAN!??!! Even if the didn’t want a lesbian route, they could have gone with any other guy from the 100 years war, Edward black prince, idk WHY GENDER BEND ONE OF THE MOST PROMINENT WOMEN IN HISTORY, I’m fine with the delusional trans dude lie, but they say that he was a guy all along, THEN WHAT WAS THE POINT OF HIM BEING BURNT AT THE STAKE IF HE WASN’T CROSS DRESSING???!!! was he double cross dressing??? This is the worst of them all, give me the girl boss we deserve (revers fate)

Dazai- not depressed enough imo, he was a leftist, again missing wife, their were two su*ecide attempts, guy lived through fire bombing, had a few children that he is fine to erase from existence.

Shakespeare- probably a fruit, again never mentioned his wife and kids, btw the way he talks is annoying, some people don’t think he’s real.

Faust- NOT A REAL PERSON.

Sanson- too young, this guys is 67, really liked the guillotine, just saw execution as his job didn’t really care, had a wife and kids.

Vlad- Ok is he supposed to be Vlad THE impaler? Cuz he’s not evil enough, or is he a Dracula reference, cuz he can’t dance that dance either, why did they call him Vlad if he isn’t a blood thirsty war criminal.

Count- not enough history to work with.

Part 2, problematic moments

So I ha have seen some posts on the low key misogynistic way the MC is written and treated and there are a lot of issues wit white washing history so another trigger warning ⚠️

Misogyny- the MC of this game is not the best, I know she’s a self insert but she has no backbone at all. She lacks agency I’m most of the routes, like the MC getting kidnapped is a troupe in all these games, but Emma can escape on her own, Kate has ⚽️, even Alice had more depth to her, seems the only thing MC can do is cry and wait to be saved, I swear she gets kidnapped once in every route, I think they could have given her more character to work with. Another thing, but Jean being a man is bad, really bad, she’s a feminist icon but they made her a man, it’s sought of saying that women aren’t capable of this so she had to have actually been a man.

Handling of SA, important one here, I’m ok with the flirty guy, but I really hate Arthur, he doesn’t just flirt with her in chapter 1 he assaults her and acts like he did her a service, and she just forgives him!?! I’m fine with a guy that sleeps around, I like Jin and Nokto fine, but the way Arthur talks about women, always calling them Birds (if they were going for English slang it doesn’t work cuz he doesn’t have a cockney accent) or worse Skirts, it’s dehumanising, and shows that to him women are vehicles for sexual pleasure and aren’t on an equal level of understanding. There are smaller parts to, Leo kisses her without consent, the Count hides the truth from her, idk but Theo calling her a ‘hound’ sounds like he’s calling her something else…

Minor points on classism, I’m not expecting the communist manifesto, but all these games aren’t very good at dealing with class deviation. In Vlad’s route, the orphan boy thinks he can impress the rich girl, this is the 19th century, capitalism is on the rise, but there’s no comment about how it’s impossible. The little school Napoleons runs is strange, considering he was in a position where benefited from poor people existing and staying poor, ( side note, he’s teaching them swordsmanship when ww1 is right around the corner, just saying they won’t need it in the military) called MC out as a social climber, these games sought of depict the past through rosé tinted glasses, there’s only passing reference to how fucked people were in the past, Also all the historical inaccuracies above tie to this.

Anyway love to hear some other opinions, (I started playing this game before my transition and have always thought it it was wired, it’s my personal least favourite just cuz I couldn’t really get into any of the guys, my OC ended up as a Carmilla reference so….)

I have seen a post talking about some of the issues before so that’s what got me to write this out, if you disagree or want to add anything I’m all ears 👂

Thanks for reading 💗💖💖💕💓💝💗🥰🥰🥰❤️✨✨✨✨❤️⭐️⭐️⭐️

[characterworkshoppe]

I make characters to screw around with for fun here.

That's why this is my character workshop :p

Enjoy your Stay

Dni : the usual.

Pedophiles, homophobes, transphobes, misogynists, all that shit.

Also political blogs please dni.

This is where I go to relax, shut off my brain, and enjoy life because irl is a shit show.

Did I see the news? Yes I probably did. Am I aware of bad things going on? Yes.

I get enough of that irl.

I need the boundary of peace of mind, I need that, I'm not going to apologize.

I, the person and creator of all these guys am called Nikke.

She\They, I'll be 22 in the spring, Demigirl.

As of...recently I guess...I'm lesbian...as in irl I love women, I want to date women, hopefully have a wife one day. Do I like fictional guys? Yeah...but they're basically just 2D toys play with on here...I'll maybe simp over them a little, but they're just that...a fun thing to play with...irl I want to only be with a woman.

What else can I say? I'm from the land of maple syrup.

I'm Pagan, I believe in multiple deities and work with some.

That's about it rn.

Oh and the header and dividers and stuff was made by @saradika-graphics

Current characters of mine that you can meet and rp with if you feel like it

Nuro- my poison dragon

Scrapyard/Scrap- cybernetic dragon

Viceth- dark dragon who works as a doctor

And my werewolf pack

Whitetrack Heights

I'll just link it all below

I also talk about Fandom ocs here that I make...

I have a lot.

Ones I might speak about in these current months are in these fandoms :

Marvel, DC, Transformers, Pokemon.

Will I add more?

C'est possible.

There's a possibility I might write lil' stories with my characters, that's not set in stone but I might.

[papirouge]

You mentioned something about Macron's wife being trans... Is that true? That reminded me of when people used to say Lady Gaga was actually Lord Gaga (aka a man)

I just replied to an ask and talked about her 👀

But yes s/he is trans and started dating Emmanuel Macron (France current president) when he was 14 and she a 39 y.o married woman with a daughter. Her husband got totally blindsided and thought the reason Macron came to their house so often (she was his theater teacher) was bc he was dating his daughter (who's the same age as him 💀)

This scandal got revealed by a whistleblower called Natacha Rey who's did a 3 hours+ exposé, and Brigitte Macron dragged her to court for transphobia, which is very troubling bc if what Natacha Rey was untrue, she would be rather attacked for diffamation of something like that. 👀

I've seen that Candace Owens started to talk about this story which gave it more visibility globally but I lowkey hate to see rightoids moids praise her for that when nobody says the name of Natacha Rey who's the one who did all the investigation and is not a right wing grifter à la Candace Owens.

It would be hard to elaborate on the whole story but to sum it up :

Brigitte sexually abused Macron when he was 14 y.o

Brigitte said her old identity (as a boy) was her brother. The problem is that nobody ever found him (because he didn't exist, it was Brigitte old identity), and the Elysée (the french presidential house) falsified documents to make it seems he did

Brigitte is allegedly even older than her public age.

Brigitte has a past of mingling with pedophile rings of the infamous Pasteur Doucé (killed by the french intelligence because he knew too much)

She's friends with the Rothschilds (IYKYK)

Natacha Rey investigated the photographs of Brigitte (given by her cabinet) from when she was younger. Turns out they were pictures of her own daughter digitally manipulated to make them look older. There are literally no pictures of Brigitte before her 40s which is allegedly the time she transitioned

Trump allegedly has evidence of extremely compromising/disturbing info about Brigitte and Macron sexual mores...

Brigitte is Macron handler (MK ultra style) which explains why she's extremely involved in his political decisions despite not having any electoral mandate herself

I don't think Gaga has been man. The transapocalypse is a tinfoil lane championned by incels who've never seen a woman naked irl & think a woman who's not shaped in a perfect 8 hourglass figure is a man. I definitely think there are more trans women in the mainstream entertainment industry than we think, but a lot of transapocalypse tinfoils are stupid.

The only legit trans suspicion IMO are Paris Hilton, Michele Obama.... I'm on the fence for Serena Williams.

[nitrateglow]

Halloween 2023 marathon: 24-25

Time for a Christmas horror double feature!!

Home for the Holidays (dir. John Llewyn Moxey, 1972)

One rainy Christmastime, sisters Jo, Alex, Chris, and Freddie (Jill Haworth, Eleanor Parker, Sally Field, and Jessica Walter) reluctantly meet with their elderly father Benjamin (Walter Brennan) for the first time in nine years. Estranged after their father's adultery led their mother to suicide, their father now suspects he's being poisoned by his former mistress/current wife Elizabeth (Julie Harris) and wants his children to kill her before she can kill him-- or any of them-- in order to get her hands on the estate. But is the killer who Benjamin thinks?

I hadn't heard of this one until it was recommended to me by a friend. It's a TV movie of the week from the early 1970s with quite the star-studded cast: you have Eleanor Parker, Sally Field, Jessica Walter, and Jill Haworth playing the most unconvincing sisters imaginable (not a one of them is made to seem even remotely alike), Walter Brennan playing their father in what would be among his last screen roles, and Julie Harris as our possible villain. It's essentially another variation on The Bat or The Spiral Staircase: a group of characters suspect each other of murder in a creepy old house, only now it's the 70s, so everyone's a fashion trainwreck. I wouldn't call this a classic or even much of a slasher, but it is entertaining in its sheer 70s campiness and the central mystery kept me guessing.

An additional fun fact: the screenplay was written by Joseph Stefano, who adapted Psycho for Alfred Hitchcock.

Black Christmas (dir. Bob Clark, 1974)

During Christmas break, a sorority house is plagued by an obscene caller who identifies himself only as "Billy." Little do they know Billy is hiding in the attic, but the women are preoccupied with drinking and partying. In the case of Jess Bradford (Olivia Hussey), her holidays are spent dealing with a selfish boyfriend (Keir Dullea) and an unwanted pregnancy. When one of the sorority sisters goes missing, they undertake a search, not realizing her corpse is holed up in the attic with Billy. Will they be able to sniff out Billy before too many victims pile up?

One of the greatest slashers of all time, Black Christmas gets better every time I see it. My favorite horror movies tend to blend humor with chills and Black Christmas is masterly at this. The characters are irreverent and sassy, though hardly perfect people (as much as I love Margot Kidder as the hard-drinking, trash-talking Barb, there is no way I'd get on with Barb IRL), making them feel more real and therefore making the peril they're in more consequential.

Atmosphere is also a big strength of the movie. The wintry gloom of the setting is palpable. The way the holiday lights are so dominated by the nighttime darkness sets the tone so perfectly.

Jess and Billy are two of my favorite horror movie characters ever. Jess is everything I want in a protagonist: vulnerable but smart and courageous. I love how she never backs down when it comes to sticking to her guns and I like how good a friend she is to the other women in the sorority. How she ever ended up with her idiot boyfriend Peter is beyond me-- what a shitwit.

Jess is one of those characters where I'm left wondering what becomes of her after the events of the movie. She's passionate and driven, unwilling to compromise on what she plans to do with her life. Just ugh--- MARRY ME JESS.

As for Billy, he is just creepy as hell. I subscribe to the idea that the best horror villains are mysterious. We don't know Billy's backstory save for his reanactment of what happened to "little Agnes." He's an aggressive misogynist, making disgusting sexual comments in cartoonish voices over the phone. However, he can't take what he dishes out: when Barb tells him off, he stops with the silly voices and coldly says, "I'm going to kill you." It's such a chilling moment; it never fails to unnerve me.

The ending scene is incredibly creepy too. For all its humor, this is one bleak movie, with an ending that strongly emphasizes the eternal presence of evil in the world, a fairy tale kind of evil that lurks in the shadows.

God, I love this movie.

Details that stuck out to me this time:

Pretty much anytime the film cuts to Billy's attic antics, we get that eerie piano crash sound. When cutting to Peter smashing up the piano after the failed recital, we hear that same sound first, creating a subtle link between Billy and Peter. That never really hit me until this viewing.

2. Actually, let me talk about the music. It's such a vital part of the atmosphere, and I love how it eschews overheated melodramatics for an unsettling piano score.

3. I always wondered why Jess fell for Peter in the first place. We only ever see him looking surly, and he's super selfish. However, I noticed Jess's description of Peter to other characters-- "he's an artist," "he's normally so gentle," "he's high-strung"-- paint a picture of a more ambitious, passionate guy who probably made a striking first impression. Even though it's clear Jess does not love Peter anymore (she says "I know" when he says "I love you" on the phone in an early scene), I imagine part of her is still clinging to the man she once fell for before he started changing, even though rationally she knows the relationship is over for her. @mygreatadventurehasbegun What do you think?