#asks from the beloved wife

[live-from-flaturn]

MY DARLING!!! 1, 5, 11, 30, 38 for the weird writer asks??? I am kissing your forehead and wrapping you in a blanket that’s warm from the dryer!! 💜💜💜💜

1. What font do you write in? Do you actually care or is that just the default setting?

Monserrat, baybee.

5. Do you have any writing superstitions? What are they and why are they 100% true?

Not really?

11. Do you believe in the old advice to “kill your darlings?” Are you a ruthless darling assassin? What happens to the darlings you murder? Do you have a darling graveyard? Do you grieve?

I'm more of a "beat your darlings mercilessly with a stick and then slowly nurse them back to heath for ultimate emotional payoff" kinda bitch. Call this the St. Ormond's Street Children's Hospital with all the Darlings we've got in here (this joke is hilarious for 6 people on this webbed site, myself included).

30. Talk to me about the role dreams play in your writing life. Have you ever used material from your dreams in your writing? Have you ever written in a dream? Did you remember it when you woke up?

Yes! One time I had a really cool dream about pirates and I used it in an ancient Geraskier fic.

38. What is something about your writing process YOU think is Really Weird?

I still write all my outline notes by hand with systematic organization. I'm sure other people do this. Plenty of 'em. But I don't have many friends irl who still do that so it's weird to me.

[beefcake-penguin]

specifically top 5 (or even top 10) favorite lena outfits

LOVE this question, broski! I'm gonna be driven beefsane (beefcake insane) thinking abeeft (beefcake about) it! 💪🏽🐧

As I've beefscussed (beefcake discussed) be(e)fore, this one is peak "smoochable Lena" for me:

2. This one also makes me bark:

For... beefvious (beefcake obvious) reasons... 😳

3. The classic "little Lena black dress" look"

I'm just uh... gonna, uh... 💪🏽😳... 💪🏽🥵... *bark bark bark*

4. This one is a beefderrated (beefcake underrated) look by the fandom, methinks:

"Ace Reporter"-episode, my beloved... 🥺

5. Green dress Lena. The hotness of which, climate scientists are beefpeatedly (beefcake repeatedly) strongly cautioning the world about:

💪🏽😳💪🏽🥵💪🏽🐧💪🏽👀

6. Lena Croft:

A more wife-shaped woman I'll bet you never did see 💪🏽😑

7. This is her "betrayed, but still being 'baby' about it"-look:

8. Lena's had more than one "I simply MUST be the hottest hottie at the funeral"-looks, but this one is my favorite:

9. Lena's "being kidnapped by planet-conquering aliens is NO excuse not to still look like an absolute SNACK"-look:

10. Baby-shaped:

There are SO many other looks that I just had to leave off... but, yeah, these are the ones that make me bark a beefsurd (beefcake absurd) amount 💪🏽😐

[turrondeluxe]

I feel like I've seen so many stages of you

I first followed you on twt when you posted mk1 then Gabriel O'Hara then Michaelangelo I'm pretty sure and I missed some but now you're at hsr🙏

AND NOW IM OBSESSED WITH LINK CLICK BABEYYY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

LETS GIVE IT UP FOR PEAK❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗❗📈📈📈📈📈📈📈📈📈📈📈📈📈📈📈📈📈📈📈📈📈📈📈📈📈📈📈📈📈📈📈🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️

[invisiblegarabgetruck]

May we have no good Jerry???? I'm secretly so into this guy but there's NOTHING ABOUT HIM I don't know if he's from the Hqs or something but this guy seems to just exist and nobody is talking about him

Omg if he's related to that golden little heart necklace Rick I'm totally satisfied with existence and all my pain instantly stops existing

ah, YESSSSSSSSSSS NO GOOD JERRY!!!! I don't know what Hqs mean, but I can't believe he's from the Pocket mortys (like he's from game tournament)

and like look at his design!!!! they are literally so sick.(the hair, the injured eyes, the big ass scar, the clothes??? muah muah) he deserve more than just one being a npc in the game 😭😭😭

also i think his dialogues in the game is interesting...

(he be aggressive)

as for his necklace. personally, I don't think he has anything to do with that rick, cuz he was made way before s7. (I thought it was that blue titanic necklace LMAO) but hey, don't let that stop you :p

[rnaeborowski]

i love love and romance so fucking muuuuuch

[filthforfriends]

“No! No, no, no.”

-Thomas Raggi, 2023

(Video is off Victoria’s girlfriend, Luna Passos)

[please-dont-pet-the-okapi]

3, 6, 12 for the book asks?

3 is answered here!

6: Was there anything you meant to read, but never got to?

I started on Matthew Stover's Revenge of the Sith novelization this year, but as of today I'm still barely into the first chapter. I've heard really good things about it, so I'm disappointed that I'm having such a hard time getting into it.

12: Any books that disappointed you?

Beyond the list of books I didn't like this year, God's Gift to Women by Eric Ludy disappointed me in part because I felt it was falsely advertised. The subtitle of the book frames it as a book about how to be a godly man (which. I am well aware I am not the target demographic of this book, but the book was recommended to me and it was free), but it was really more of dating advice for Christian men. That's not to say that's all it was (a lot of it was good advice for any Christian), or that all of the advice was bad. Most of it was pretty sound advice, but the author admitted that much of his advice assumed that the reader was called to marriage, and that kind of thing bothers me.

[gingersnaptaff]

treat!

'"No. We leave tonight,” Rhiannon’s tone was ice. “We must evade the guards.”

“Yes, Mother," Pryderi huffed. "So you keep saying but I see no evidence of them.”

“Pryderi,” It was Cigfa who spoke and her voice was scratchy with sleep. “Just because you have not seen them does not mean that they will not have been sent out.”

Rhiannon hummed, “Ogrfan will spin the net about us slowly at first. We will not even see it coming until he finally wrenches it and traps us.”

“Ach, surely not! If he’d any sense he would've enacted such a thing now instead of waiting.”

“Your mother is right,” Cigfa whispered, pursing her lips. “The things that we witnessed in his caer would make your blood run cold. We must gather up what we can and go. We are wasting time squabbling like washerwomen.”

“There’s barely even anything to take!”

“Good!” Cigfa’s disdain was apparently even from my place on Manawydan’s lap. “Then it will attract less attention when I grab you about your beard and throw you into the river for being brainless. Truly you are your father’s son! Must I explain everything to you?”

“I am only stupid when it suits me." Pryderi insisted. "If it is your will that we go now, then we will. This has been such a roundabout conversation that I feel that I am far more blockheaded than when we started.”

“That remains to be seen but I am sure that it will become certain, of that I have no doubt.” Grass crunched beneath Cigfa’s boots, and I knew that she was getting up off the ground.

Pryderi and Rhiannon followed suit, both sighing in relief at the clicking on their bones as they rose too as Manawydan murmured in my ear that he would carry me for the journey.

“Don’t get too tired,” I slurred. “’M heavy. Father used to tell me that.”

“Yes, Gwyn bach, I’m sure that you are, but I am not your father. You can rest again if you wish. I will wake you when we arrive.” His blue eyes crinkled as he smiled.'

[twinklingwatermellon]

Where do you watch most of your k-dramas? I mostly see them on netflix, but wasn’t sure where else to look.

Hi! I'd been watching them all on Netflix until recently, when I got a Viki subscription. That's where I saw Twinkling Watermelon and The Matchmakers. I know there are also some good ones on Disney+ but most of the new additions aren't available in my region, so it depends on where you are I guess!

[sananaryon]

i have listened to the Bifrost incident and i will never fucking recover

[wildsaltair]

He looks so happy and dreamy when he talks about his family, I can't 💖💖

LU DON'T DO THIS TO ME

They really are all he lives for 😭😭 they are all his joy, all his hope. they are what he fights for and longs for. the glory and fame and excitement and honor means nothing if he can't be with the wife and son he loves, and live on the land he has tilled with his own hands. there's something so personal and intimate and grounded about Maximus being a farmer — the way it's a hands-on job that results in him bringing life instead of taking it. he's sick of killing and death and gore, and he just wants to be home and to see the crops growing. he wants to see the love in his wife's eyes and the joy as his son grows into a man. he lives only to hold them again.

OH TO BE LOVED AS MAXIMUS LOVES

[glitzybunny]

wife do you think nero would force herb to practice waltz and his reason would be 'you need to know how to be charming' but in reality hes just a gay lil fucker and wants to hold his waist

Abso-fucking-lutely.

Plus Nero needs to use his fancy ballroom more~

Herb would either know straight away why or be completely dense and confused no inbetween fjkajfkajfk

[leebrontide]

I want to tell a story to the artists and would-be artists out there.

When I was 19, I made a large oil painting of the nerd I would eventually marry. I poured all my attention and care into this painting. It's the only art I have from back then that still holds up as a work I'm proud of today.

I entered it into a judged show at the local art center. It got an honorable mention. I went to see the show with my beloved model. One of the judges came up to talk to me, and highlighted that all the judges really liked the painting. It would have placed, except, you see, the feet were incorrect. They were too wide and short, and if I just studied a bit more anatomy-

I called over my future wife, and asked her to take off her shoe. Being already very used to humoring me, she did. The judge looked at her very short, very wide little foot. Exactly as I'd lovingly rendered it. I would never edit her appearance in any way.

The judge looked me in the eye, and to his credit, he really looked like he meant it when he said "Oh I'm so sorry."

Anyways the moral of the story is that all of those anatomy books that teach you proportions are either showing you averages, or a very specific idea of an idealized body. Actual bodies are much more varied than that.

So don't forget to draw from observation, and remember that humans aren't mass produced mannequins. Delight in our variation. Because it's supposed to be there.

[perpetualstargirl]

Girl Dad!?

a drabble in which Nanami is the girl dad.

"Here, I keep them on hand for the kids," Nanami says, handing Nobara a hairband from his pocket.

First comes Nobara's question. "Kids? Plural?"

"Nanami! How many kids do you have?" Yuji's voice rang out as Nanami stood beside Gojo, watching the first year students train.

"Four," The blonde haired man responded simply, checking his phone. A text from his beloved wife. He opens it with little hesitation. One picture, their little five month old daughter laid on her mother's chest. He smiles.

"Four kids?" Nobara asked in surprise.

"Four daughters," Nanami corrected her without glancing up from his phone. A second picture. His twin daughters, three years old, had drawn something together that his wife had sent him a picture of.

"Don't you get tired of all those girls in the house, Nanami?" Gojo asked, throwing an arm around Nanami's broad shoulders.

"No." Nanami responded, scowling. "Why would I?" He checks his watch with shimmery pink nails, the work of his eldest daughter. Underneath his brown business shoes and black socks held up by sock garters, his toenails matched, the same shimmery pink.

"Four kids and not one son?" Yuji asked, his big brown eyes gazing curiously at his teacher.

"Aren't you at least a little disappointed?" Gojo asked, cocking his head at his coworker.

"My genetics determined that we had daughters. I love them all dearly." Nanami spoke, shoving Gojo off of his shoulders.

"I have four daughters, and they look almost exactly like my beautiful wife. I'm more concerned about all the boys I'll have to fend off of my doorstep than I am about only having daughters." Nanami said proudly, a soft smile making it's way onto his usually stoic face.

"Now, if you don't mind, my wife says dinner will be done in 20. Have a nice day, everyone." And with that, Nanami Kento leaves, a big smile on his face. He can't wait to get home.

[creepyclothdoll]

The Devil's Wheel

The Devil’s Wheel

“If you say yes,” said the Devil, “a single man, somewhere in the world, will be killed on the spot. But three million dollars is nothing to sneeze at, missus.”

“What’s the catch?” You squint at him suspiciously over the red-and-black striped carnival booth. You’re smarter than he thinks you are– a devil deal always has a catch, and you’re determined to catch him before he catches you. 

“Well, the catch is that you’ll know you did it. And I’ll know, too. And the big man upstairs’ll know, I ‘spose. But what’s the chariot of salvation without a little sin to grease the wheels? You can repent from your mansion balcony, looking out at your waterfront views, sipping a bellini in your eighties. But hey, it’s up to you– take my deal or leave it.”

The Devil lights a cigar without a match, taking an inhale, and blowing out a cloud of deep, sweet-smelling tobacco laced faintly with something that reminds you of rotten eggs. If he does have horns, they’re hidden under his lemon yellow carnival barker hat. He wears a clean pinstripe suit and a red bowtie. No cloven hooves, no big pointy fork, but you know he’s the Devil without having to be told. Though he did introduce himself.

He’s been perfectly polite. 

You know you need the money. He knows it too, or he wouldn’t have brought you here, to this strange dark room, whisking you away from your new house in the suburbs as fast as a wish. Now you’re in some sort of warehouse, where all the windows seem to be blacked out– or, maybe, they simply look out into pitch darkness, though it is the middle of the day. A single white spotlight shines down on the two of you. 

“Wait a minute, wait a minute,” you say. “I bet the man is someone I know, right? My husband?”

“Could be,” the Devil says with a pointed grin. “That’s for the wheel to decide.”

He steps back and raises his black-gloved hand as the tarp flies off of the large veiled object behind him. The light of the carnival wheel nearly blinds you. Blinking lights line the sides. Jingling music blares over speakers you can’t see. The flickering sign above it reads:

THE DEVIL’S WHEEL

“Step right up and claim your fortune,” the Devil barks. “Spin the wheel and pay the price! Or leave now, and a man keeps his life.”

You examine the wheel. 

The gambling addict

The doting boyfriend

The escaped convict

The dog dad

The secretive sadist

“These are all the possible men I can kill?” You ask, thumbing the side of the wheel. It rolls smoothly in your hand. Then you quickly stop, realizing that this might constitute a spin under the Devil’s rules. He flashes a smile at you, watching you halt its motion. 

“Addicts, convicts, murderers– plenty of terrible options for you to land on, missus!”

“Serial wife murderer?”

“Now who would miss a fellow like that? I can guarantee that the whole world would be better off without him in it, and that’s a fact.”

The hard worker

The compulsive liar

The animal torturer

The widower

The desperate businessman

The failed musician

The beloved son

“My husband is on here too,” you say. 

“Your husband Dave, yes. The wheel has to be fair, otherwise there’s simply no stakes.”

“I know what’s gonna happen,” you say, crossing your arms. “This wheel is rigged. I’m gonna spin it around, and it’ll go through all the killers and stuff, and then it’s gonna land on my husband no matter what.”

“Why, I would never disgrace the wheel that way,” the Devil says, wounded. “I swear on my own mother’s grave– may she never escape it. In fact, take one free spin, just to test it out! This one’s on me, no death, no dollars.”

You cautiously reach up to the top of the wheel and feel its heaviness in your hand. The weight of hundreds of lives. But also, millions of dollars. You pull the wheel down and let it go.

Clackity-clackity-clackity-clackity

Round and round it goes. 

The college graduate

The hockey fan

The Eagle Scout

The cold older brother

The charming younger brother

The two-faced middle child

The perfectionist

The slob 

Your husband Dave

Clackity-clackity-clackity.

Finally, the wheel lands on a name. A title, really.

The photographer

“Hmm, tough, missus, but that’s the way of the wheel. But hey, look! Your husband is allllll the way over here,” he points with his cane to the very bottom of the wheel, all the way on the other side from where the arrow landed. “As you can see, it’s not rigged. The wheel truly is random.”

“So… there really isn’t another catch?” You ask. 

“Isn’t it enough for you to end a man’s life? You need a steeper price? If you’re really such a glutton for punishment, I’ll gladly re-negotiate the terms.”

“No, no… wait.” You examine the wheel, glancing between it and the Devil.

You really could use that three million dollars. Newly married, new house, you and your husband’s combined debt– those student loans really follow you around. He’s quite a bit older than you, and even he hasn’t paid them off yet, to the point where the whole time you were dating you watched him stress out about money. You had to have a small, budget wedding, and a small, budget honeymoon. Three million dollars could be big for the two of you. You could re-do your honeymoon and go somewhere nice, like Hawaii, instead of just taking two weeks in Atlantic City. You deserve it. 

Even so, do you really want to kill an innocent photographer? Or an innocent seasonal allergy sufferer? Or an innocent blogger? Just because you don’t know or love these people doesn’t mean that someone doesn’t. 

The cancer survivor

The bereaved

The applicant

Some of these were so vague. They could be anyone, honestly. Your neighbors, your father, your friends…

The newlywed

The ex-gifted kid

The uncle

The Badgers fan

“My husband is a Badgers fan,” you say.

“How lovely,” the Devil says. 

Then it hits you.

Of course.

The weightlifter.

The careful driver.

The manager.

The claustrophobe.

Your husband Dave lifts weights at the gym twice a month. You wouldn’t call him a pro, but he does it. He also drives like he’s got a bowl of hot soup in his lap all the time, because he’s afraid of being pulled over. He just got promoted to management at his company, and he takes the stairs to his seventh-story office because he hates how small and cramped the elevator is.

“I get your game,” you announce. “You thought you could get me, but I figured you out, jackass!” “Oh really? What is my game, pray tell?” The Devil responds, leaning against his cane.

“All these different titles– they’re all just different ways to describe the same guy. My husband isn’t one notch on the wheel, he’s every notch. No matter what I land on, Dave dies. I’m wise to your tricks!” 

The Devil cackles. 

“You’re a clever one, that’s for sure. I thought you’d never figure it out.”

“Thanks but no thanks, man,” you say with a triumphant smirk. “I’m no rube. No deal. Take me back home.”

“As you wish, missus,” the Devil says. He snaps his fingers, and you’re gone, back to your brand-new house with your new husband. “Don’t say I never tried to help anyone.”

[foldingfittedsheets]

In honor of my nine year anniversary with my beloved wife please enjoy a story from our third date.

Just gonna reemphasize that. Our third date. We were still very much getting to know each other. We were virtually strangers.

We had been intending to do a meetup at a nerdy cafe with a group of people, but unbeknownst to us there had been a tragedy in the group and everyone else bailed. My beloved and I made the best of it. We had a nice date. I horrified them by eating sliders in three bites but it wasn’t a deal breaker.

Afterward I was driving us back to my place when a car came up and rear ended me. It was a pretty light bump but I was still like, well. That car hit me, time to pull over and exchange info.

Except the other car decided to instead shoot past me and drive away.

Infuriated, I pursued.

From the passenger seat, a captive on a third date with someone else in control of the car and pursuing strangers into the darkness, my beloved said, “Uh, what’s the plan here?”

“They hit me! We need to exchange information!”

Indeed. I did not have a plan. The plan was that when you hit someone with your car you exchanged insurance information. I would pursue until that happened.

The offending car led us a merry chase and as I followed through winding pitch black forest roads I felt the tiniest inkling of misgiving. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea? Pursuing someone into the darkness? But I persisted.

I wasn’t being propelled by a plan or even stubbornness but instead I followed a blazing righteousness. Fundamentally I knew that when you hit someone’s car you talked to them afterward. It was an inexorable fact. They would not escape the talking portion of this event.

When the car pulled into a trailer park I fully realized that this was not, in fact, a good idea. Inside the other car was a couple who were clearly having an argument and it seemed increasingly unlikely that they had insurance info to swap.

With a sigh I said, “Will you pull out your flashlight? Let’s see if my bumper is damaged.”

We got out of the car and inspected my bumper together. It actually looked fine, and I was about to call it when the woman got out. It was instantly clear she was under some chemical influence, her pupils dilated absurdly large. She attempted a poor performance as she said, “Oh, did we hit you?”

“Yeah,” I said flatly, “but I think it’s fine. I don’t see any damage.”

“We weren’t sure, uh, if we did, we didn’t think we did but we just weren’t sure.” She shifted anxiously foot to foot.

It was time to leave, a fact which became clearer when the man stepped out, eyes buzzing in his skull. He feigned innocence and radiated an aura of someone barely tethered to reality. My beloved and I waved them off and got back in my car to drive away.

As we did my beloved let out a huge gust of air as if they’d been holding their breath.

“Are you okay?”

“I was so squared up ready to fight them,” they said. “I’m glad we didn’t.”

I turned to look at them in astonishment. “Why would we have fought?”

“Are you joking? You followed them at 11pm to a trailer park! The second we got out of the car I was in a fighting stance. What did you think would happen?”

“I- I don’t know. That we’d talk and then go home? But. I can see now that driving after a car that tried to do a hit and run may not have been that safe…”

“You think!!!”

We sat in silence for a while before we burst out in relieved laughter.

“You were ready to fight?” I asked.

“I do kung fu! That guy looked so shady, I was ready to kick his ass, but I really didn’t want to.”

Unbelievably, they agreed to more dates, and eventually married me, but more often than not they’re the one driving.