#where’s my husband

[dunya99]

sometimes the words ‘i love you’ don’t cut it out when it comes to replicating the emotion that your husband!satoru feels for you. the words ‘i love you’ don’t show his need for doing anything in the world to please you, no matter it’s difficulty. i love you doesn’t serve justice to the way he’d row his way to where the pacific and Atlantic meet and mix the oceans together, ignoring the differences in densities, or would split the moon in half with a click of a finger because a man can do anything the moment he witnesses your sugar sweet smile.

husband!satoru sometimes feels utterly disappointed when you refuse to let him spoil you, refuse to let him build a rocket out of his love and fly you both to the same moon that he talks to every night about you to the point that the moon would call your name, but don’t be surprised, just satorus antics.

can you blame the man for being obsessed with you though? you’re the only person who’s ever seen him for him. your the only person that teases him back, your smart ass reply’s take a lot of his will power to stop him from tossing you onto his shoulder and taking you straight to the bedroom.

________________________________________________

[hotchnerave]

aaron baby please come to bed

[magicmindless]

Ok new HC: Roman and Lois have a pretty big height difference, like, Lois only reaches his chest, and because of this Roman has literally “lost” Lois because of this since like, he’s so tall and she’s so short that he can’t see her if he looks straight ahead so he’ll think he lost her even if she’s standing right next to him

[fruitjoos]

missing patrick zweig hours so who’s fic recs can i skim through lol

[noneur-business]

men who give me comments like „why is your hair so short“ won’t even get a response to that I don’t need that attitude in my life thanks and bye 👋���

[camilleflyingrotten]

Thinking about the Good Omens S1 body swap…

LATER

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Penelope's final gambit, you will always be famous, no matter the subtext.

[inkskinned]

the tradwife movement is the same as it has always been - back in the kitchen, back to breeding - it just has better branding.

when i was younger, i hated pink. i was not like other girls. this is now something i'm embarrassed of - this was not me being a "girl's girl."

but it was expressing something many of us felt at the time: i literally wasn't what girlhood was supposed to be. this is a hard thing to explain, but you know when you're not performing girlhood correctly. it isn't as easy as "i liked x when girls liked y" - because there were other girls that liked x, too - but i never figured out exactly the correct way to like x, or to be interested in y.

now there is the divine feminine. this is the same rhetoric it has always been: women are biologically driven to like pink and ribbons and submitting to our husbands.

the problem is that the patriarchy found a better PR team. because yes, actually, i want every woman to have the choice to be a homemaker. i also want her taken seriously for her legitimate home-making labor. i want her to be recognized as also having a job, just unpaid. i want men to have this opportunity, too.

but it is no longer "i made this choice and I love it." instead it is a sixteen-paragraph rant about how selfish it is that my generation isn't having kids. instead it's long videos about how if you feed your children processed foods, you're going to kill them. instead it is "this is what womanhood is supposed to be. i feel bad for any other choices you're making."

the shame spiral is just prettier. it is large houses devoid of personality. it is the implication: if you don't have this, you aren't happy. the solid, everlasting assurance: women are actually supposed to be submitting. this is the default. this is the natural state of things. all other attempts inflict suffering.

but you can no longer say i'm not like other girls. you can no longer reject this image completely. you cannot find it revolting, even if you know that the underbelly is toxic and festering. sure, it is the same repackaged patriarchy. but the internet does not have shades of grey. you should support and reward other women! your disgust is actually internalized misogyny. not because you are seeing a vision of yourself the way they're trying to train you to be. not because you feel her ghost pass within an inch of your earlobe. not because your father will eventually ask you - why can't you be like her?

because they figured out how to make it beautiful: women will sell other women on this idea, and we will find the singular loophole in feminism. sure, she's shaming you in most of her videos. sure, she implies that a different life is obscene. but she just wants you to be happy! you'd be happier if you were listening!

and the whole time you're sitting there thinking: i'd actually just be happier if i had that kind of money.

[loveyatopluto]

When’s it my turnnnnnnn

anthony bridgerton

[the-cheese]

🧀

Gosh I would just

🧀🔪

KILL

🧀

For my sweet juicy hubby wubby to be here

🧀

Gosh I sure hope I’m not waiting long

🧀👜

🧀👜 . .

🧀👜. 🥖

🧀👜. 🥖

🧀👜. 🥖

🧀👜🥖

…

🧀👜🥖

….

YOU ARE NOT MY HUSBAND

🧀🔪🥖

👜

[crispyliza]

I've got you all figured out fanartists

[golswia]

CATSBANDS

[the-maw-consumes]

glow

[ellenchain]

kissing the trauma away

[chloesimaginationthings]

Abby has an important FNAF question for Glamrock Freddy

[ravencromwell]

Rereading Dickens Christmas Carol for the first time in a long time. And the more I reread, the more it strikes me how seamlessly a queer reading could slip within these pages. Not an especially twee reading, wherein all Scrooge's troubles start and end with grief over Jacob Marley's death. For we know that Scrooge was a "Tight-fisted hand at the grindstone, Scrooge! a squeezing, wrenching, grasping, scraping, clutching, covetous, old sinner!" And we know that he and Marley were "two kindred spirits"

And perhaps that very fact makes the similarities to queer life, unintended as they most likely were by Mr. Dickens, achingly poignant to me. Scrooge is, we're told, "secret and self-contained and solitary as an oyster." How much that resonates, for so many of us who shield our innermost selves but from a select group of friends. And we know that Scrooge and Marley were, at the very least, certainly that for one another. Scrooge is Marley's sole mourner; his sole executor and beneficiary; and even Dickens notes, "friend." How reminiscent is that of queer couples across history, estranged from their families?

Scrooge lives in a set of chambers that once belonged to Marley—clearly Dickens wanted us to believe Scrooge gave up his own dwellings after Marley's death to economize. But with only a flicker of change, those chambers become _their chambers, rented by Marley as the senior member of the couple. The place is so desolate Dickens notes "one could scarcely help fancying it must have run there when it was a young house, playing at hide-and-seek with other houses, and have forgotten the way out again." The perfect abode for two queer misers who wanted no one prying into their business.

Marley's name is still above the door of Scrooge's counting-house: a mark by which, no doubt, Dickens meant to convey Scrooge such a penny-pincher he couldn't bother to have it changed. But a thing can be both! mark of frugality to ludicrous excess and! mark of mourning. "sometimes," Dickens opines, "People new to the

business called Scrooge Scrooge, and sometimes Marley, but he answered to both names. It was all the same to him."

This is why "death of the author" matters so much, in expanding our interpretations of texts. It is vastly far from the lens Dickens would have intended. But, the idea of a ghost of queerness, so taboo in the society it could barely be glanced at sidewise in this tale that is all about the inexplicable and yet that lingers over everything becomes an astonishing lens through which to read this book. Thinking of Scrooge as a queer man, his "melancholy dinner at his usual melancholy tavern" becomes a eerie prefiguring of the hollowness of days spent by Isherwood's A Single Man. In this universe, little wonder Scrooge doubly hates mention of time with family, marriage, etc. when the precise nature of his grief is both unacknowledged and unacknowledgable.

And readings like this are vital, because the uncomfortable truth is, discrimination doesn't "discriminate between sinners and saints", to borrow a Miranda phrase. It is easy, in my liberal circles, to fight for queer people who hold "the good sorts of politics". But what about men like Michael Hess, culpable for supporting Reagan even as his contemptuous homophobia let the aids epidemic run rampant? How much harder is it to remember Michael had a partner? That he deserves empathy and compassion for being practically tarred and feathered out of the party upon his own aids diagnosis?

Expanding our imaginative universes to include queerness, not as redemptive panacea, but merely as one aspect of identity, personality, often in vicious conflict with others. Even! as we consider those stories equally worthy of being told feels vital if we're ever to truly express the complexity of what queer humanity looks like.