#my man my husband my boyfriend my wife

[niymue]

[spirk-trek]

S1E2: The Man Trap ⋆.˚ ✧ · ˚⊹ ·

[escargoonie-goo]

Yeah man

[thatgentlewife]

[cockringvarric]

the posts ive been making today reallllly make me sound like someone desperately using lonesome inspired horniness to avoid their family at a christmas get together, when in fact im happily & comfortably at home drinking boba tea. how do i make it clear i want a loser boyfriend in a non-god fearing and distinctly anti-christmas way?

[lesbianwyllravengard]

I hateeee gender so much I hate feeling dysphoria over the absolute dumbest shit but not over things that are expected

[wildsaltair]

today my boss came in to help me with something and saw my Maximus computer lockscreen. I then had to download an app on my phone for the project in front of her, and she saw my phone lockscreen. also Maximus. had to pause the Gladiator soundtrack that had been playing in my headphones. my Maximus poster was on the wall beside me. I don't know if she noticed or if she was just too polite to mention that I may have a problem

[murrayseinfeld]

i love jerry seinfeld from seinfeld my baby my honey my everything my schmoopie

[everybodyloveshippos]

well i think he would be in love with her/him/them anyways

[karusieq]

Wife merch!! I love my wife, my male wife

[fucktheroyals]

I just want a dreamling fic of Hob getting Dream to do terribly human and mundane things. Sometimes Hob's just inviting Dream to do something he was already going to do. Sometimes Hob realizes Dream hasn't done something boring human thing and wants Dream to do it so bad. Sometimes Hob doesn't know whether Dream has done a boring human thing before but he just wants to see Dream doing it. It'd be so cute if whenever Hob doesn't have access to something, upon becoming better and better at navigating the dreaming, he just dreams up the situation there.

—OKAY WAIT THIS LITERALLY JUST FLEW INTO MY HEAD!!! Okay, you know how wives sometimes go with their husband's to golf courses and they literally just sit in the cart. CAN YOU IMAGINE— Dream's with Hob at Hob's place of work and Hob's coworkers/work friends invite Hob to play golf with them and Hob agrees for whatever reason and then Hob's work friends invite Dream along too and Hob didn't even think about it but now he NEEDS Dream to go and Dream reluctantly agrees. In true wifey fashion Dream shows up in full golf attire like he's going to play but just sits in the cart the entire time. I think it could be hilarious.

[iateyourburrito]

[notsogracefullyput]

Ok I was spoiled for the cheating ahead of time but I didn’t hate that as much as I thought I would, but also I already knew it was coming so idk.

[lunarpanda]

I’ve always wanted to try those lottery things they have in Japan in shopping districts. You know, the one where you turn a wheel and a ball pops out and depending on the color you get a prize right?

OK maybe Mika is helping out Ichi with grocery shopping for the house, they both have enough points or whatever for one try each (I think it works like that.) and she asks him if he’s lucky and he goes through his entire “No I’m really bad luck” and stuff and when he spins he gets a non winning ball. 

So now it’s Mika’s turn and he asks her the same question. She says.

“I’d like to think so~ I mean, I must be lucky to have you as my husband~”

Ichimatsu exploded that day rip...

She won 4th prize I’d think. Whatever that could be.

[littledreamling]

(wearing an enormous black coat but my hair is sticking out so you definitely can tell it’s me)

assumption: you are legally married in the dreaming

Hmmmm…. I wonder who this could be 🤔

Anyway, yes, I am married to my lovely wife @virgo-dream whom I love very much 🥰 We have…. *checks server* 35 children and three robot ravens and we couldn’t be happier together. She scrunches her nose when I text her and I scrunch my nose because I mirror people and our co-star apps ship it. Our entire discord server calls us mom and dad (which is the biggest gender euphoria I’ve ever felt) and she has made my life so much better in such a short amount of time, I can’t wait to see where life leads us 💖

To you, my dear, my most beloved 🖤

[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.”