Is Demencia being nice or just annoying? You decide! 😂

Obviously kissing a villain was pretty bad for Heed's reputation, I was thinking about how it could've effected Flug's too

tw. yandere, general basement wife fuckery (i say that but reader is gn), physical abuse mention, minors dni I cannot stop thinking about being a pro-hero’s basement wife - you're generally confined to his domain but he drags you out from time to time - to dinners, galas, all sorts of public events. He doesn't necessarily make a secret out of you - no, the ring on his finger contradicts that - but he usually keeps you inside of his home, where you belong. It doesn’t happen all that often, either, just often enough that people are aware of you and your status.

Especially Endeavour and Nighteye.

Always breathing down your neck, just a tight squeeze away from reminding you to be good, to play the role of his spouse well. There are eyes on you and he has a reputation to uphold, no matter how repulsive he is behind closed doors. You're constantly monitored by him, can't relax a little bit, even if you wanted to. Listens to every word you say to other people - you're desperate to talk to someone else for once (and talk to them in earnest), but his watchful eyes make it hard for you to stammer out more than the most basic smalltalk, nothing of substance. You don't really get to partake in your old hobbies anymore so you don't have anything interesting to say, anyway. Besides from talking about him or the weather, what else is there? You’re a bore now, a pathetic bore, even if you have been forced into it. You only exist to serve him now and everyone who talks to you longer than two minutes quickly notices that. They think you’re one of those hero spouses - the ones who cling to their husbands so much that they might as well morph into one person, the fans-turned-partners, the gold diggers, the soulless throphies- they don’t know that your reality is so much more grim than they could ever realize, so you’re written off as just another airhead who lucked out and landed a pro hero. It’s frustrating how freedom and a normal life are dangled in front of you and you can’t even enjoy it for a second, always acutely aware of his presence. And how other people think they know exactly what you are like just because you can’t really hold a conversation. It’s a special kind of hell to be judged so harshly (and openly) while your reality is so unbearably bleak.

So you sit there in silence and twirl your wine glass between clammy fingers, simply willing the minutes away - you can’t even be rude and check your phone because you don’t have one. And you can’t get drunk either, because you’re allowed one glass and one glass alone. He’s not trying to entertain you, either - no, he has networking to do (or whatever it is he calls that incessant talking he always does). You’re lucky when he pulls you up to another table, another cluster of people to chat with, because it means that you at least get to see different faces. His little reminders to stay put are plentiful and not all too gentle, either. Lingering fingers on your thigh (concealed under the table), a heavy hand on your lower back while you’re standing, a subtle glance at you when you get a little too fidgety, a whisper when you’ve spoken out of line. If you let your face slip even a little bit, he will notice and punish you for it later, make no mistake. You’re expected to wear the perfect mask at all times, he can’t have anything less. And don’t forget to be nice. To smile. That dour face isn’t pleasant to look at and he won’t have to say it, just needs to look at you with that little furrow of his brow, just needs to turn to you and nod, “isn’t that right?“ - you’re here because he wants you to be but demands that you act like you couldn’t have asked for anything else this evening.

He's a good husband, he says. Always gets you something nice to wear, sometimes even new jewelry - you always look amazing, all dressed up in his favorite colors, with his ring shining on your hand, catching the light. And he’s probably at least partially right, especially when someone is gushing over your outfit and you mumble about how he bought it for you, how he knows what suits you. They think he’s attentive, that he cares. And isn’t it oh-so-sweet of him, too? You have to agree with them then, and behind you, he almost preens at the praise, even if it’s weirdly uncharacteristic for him.

You get absolutely nothing for being good. It's only natural - this is your life now. Your job, if you will. You’re being cared for in every way possible, so this is the least you can do. In fact, you should be grateful he took you out - you didn't have to cook, isn't that nice? And didn’t he buy a new necklace, a new watch? In his mind this is a reward, not a twisted display of just how trapped you really are.

But if you aren’t, all the pitiful little apologies in the world aren’t gonna help you. He'll make sure you can feel your misdemeanor for days to come. How dare you sully his good image, how dare you act so ungrateful when he has given you everything you could ever want? Not only does he need to fix this mess now, no, he can’t believe you even had the gall to be such a brat. If this happens too often he’ll leave you at home for the foreseeable future - if you can’t appreciate these little excursions, you won’t need them, right? - and he’ll make sure it sticks. Be prepared to get locked away just like you were at the beginning, to be hurt, to be deprived of food. There is nothing that gets him quite as mad as you threatening his reputation, even unintentionally - it’s not even about you acting like you love him, he knows you don’t. He couldn’t care less about that, he has you in the palm of his hand, after all. It’s all about control. And nothing makes him angrier than you defying him in such a way.

doodle dump. give it up for WORLD'S WORST POLYCULE!!! (feat. my vox redesign)

you know how hermit crabs like form queues where they exchange shells from biggest to smallest. yeah these bitches do that but with shirts

captain price who gets thrown back in time when he hears that farah’s group has been deemed terrorists by the US

who suddenly remembers of another young, capable woman who had trusted the united states and had accepted their help in the fight only for them to turn their backs on her and her people at the last second. she didnt yield to their demands, pushing for the freedom of her people from both sides of tyranny.

price who’s called back and taken to headquarters for debriefing, doesn't even get to say goodbye, not that you wanted to in the first place.

they'd turned their backs on you and you turn yours on them, striving to build your country back up. and you do. you stay out of the government for the most part but put together a strong foundation that’ll be unshakeable for your country in the years coming. he knows because he’s seem the reports. seen how you handle a room, empower your people. some of it even done with a full belly.

he isn’t owed jealousy, you dont belong to each other, but he still cant push down the bitter taste in the back of his throat. even through dinner it stays there. has to stop himself from hunting down a man whose only crime was loving you. something he wasn’t brave enough to do.

after coming back to the present, he looks at alex offering him a gentle smile, grateful that he'll be helping Farah.

he asks Laswell for a favor, he knows that she knows where you are. his next leave is planned. no hotel, just a 4x4 truck, enough pull to make it up the mountain, and supplies for a family of four.

he can hear you in the back of the house, water sloshing around, as you talk to someone. and for the first time it strikes price that he never considered he'd be meeting your partner. whose child you had been carrying.

he doesnt dwell on it too much. already worked up the nerve.

then, he’s rounding the corner and there you are. muttering softly to a voice, that he now notices is much smaller and pitchier than yours.

coming from a carbon copy of him. no thats not right. its a mix, of his features and yours. your genetics definitely won but he can see himself mixed with you.

the girl has stopped talking, just staring now, causing you to turn.

“Hello Captain Price.”

"Fine. Fetch."

Cloud Strife in Final Fantasy VII (Rebirth)

PERIOD DRAMA APPRECIATION WEEK 2023

day 1: favorite adaptation + day 2: favorite tv show

jamie and claire + book to screen (in/sp)

pollux belongs to @piipstachio

Studio Ghibli + Holding Hands 2

Lord help me!

Warrior Nun x Amon Amarth "Vengeance is My Name"

massive doodle dump

+ egg

suppose this is probably a good chance to plug my toyhouse? I have a toyhouse now: https://toyhou.se/ArdienotheSieno

two tickets to oppenheimer please!!!

do you understand my vision. sorry i cant draw you silver

i love arm

🔥SET FIRE TO THE SKY🔥

I think this is the best scarlet and violet photo ever taken I think I win the contest

few things bother me more than people saying that it’s “dumb” or “intentional ignoring” or “impossible” to have interpreted crowley and aziraphale’s relationship platonically.

and look i could go on about all the things that do point to romance but enough people have done that so i’m gonna defend myself here and explain why i read them as platonic for so long and why i think it’s perfectly reasonable to have read them platonically.

and a disclaimer that all of this is from my perspective and my opinion. so if i make a statement as though it’s matter of fact, know that i’m speaking from my perspective and just can’t be bothered to preface every sentence with “in my opinion…”

and it mostly boils down to one thing: their love reflected the love me and my friends have for each other.

so no shit i interpreted them platonically because they looked like my real life platonic relationships!!

i’ve talked at length about how i think there’s a specificity to the way queer people love. i think there’s something special about the way queer people show love, especially platonic love.

here’s the thing. i’ve been mistaken as my best friend of 16 years’ girlfriend more than once. i’ve been mistaken as one of my other best friend’s partner so many times her friends were genuinely shocked when she got a boyfriend because they thought she was dating me.

i understand the whole “being so platonically in love that people think you’re also fucking” situation. i unironically live that situation on the regular. so naturally i assumed that’s what was happening with aziraphale and crowley.

my thought process was basically this

1) they love like i love (specifically, crowley loves like i love). therefore, they’re platonically in love.

2) weird, everyone on the internet is convinced they’re dating. something something everyone values romantic love over platonic love

3) well whatever they’re still platonic in my heart

and it stayed like that quite literally until i watched episode 6 of season 2. and you can tell me i was being oblivious all you want, but that doesn’t change the fact that i genuinely believed they were platonic. queer platonic? sure. but definitely not romantic.

i saw all the witty quips and banter between the two of them and didn’t read any sexual or romantic tension, i read friendship. i saw aziraphale damsel in distress-ing himself on the regular so crowley could save him and thought “well it’s the only way he can spend time with crowley. checks out”. and i saw the bandstand breakup and the burning bookshop and “you told my only friend to shut his mouth and die and i did. not. care. for it.” and aziraphale so desperately trying to shield crowley from the horrors of the world and obviously i saw love. a love that is deep and profound, yes. it just never read romantic to me because i would do and say all of those things for and to my friends.

one of the few things i will never cease to find joy in is my friendships. i will ALWAYS love loving the people close to me, i will ALWAYS support them, and most importantly, i ALWAYS want to protect them. even when i know what is going to happen is inevitable, i don’t want to see them hurt. i want to shield them from the cataclysmic experience of the human condition and only have to experience in the moments of joy that await them. i don’t want to see the people i love hurt or in pain or jaded by how fucked up the world is.

because i already am those things. i am jaded by the world, i’m constant falling into the pit of cynical despair that the state of the world can manage to throw you down. and i know how fucking hard it is to pull yourself out of that place, to find hope and move forward and allow yourself to even enjoy the love and support you do have in life.

and the last thing i ever want is for the people i love dearly to experience those things.

so yeah. i related hard fucking core to crowley and the way he loves aziraphale SO. FUCKING. DEEPLY. and of course i read it platonically because it’s platonic for me. so deeply platonic in the best way.

and i could go on about how a lot of this stems from how much i value platonic love. how much i don’t adhere to social norms of love and how people express love. i will loudly proclaim my love for my friends, because i love them. i’m in love with them. but that doesn’t mean i want to date them or kiss them. and that makes perfect sense to me, and if it doesn’t make sense to you. well then, idk what to tell you.

this is longer than i intended but my point is that it hurts seeing people who act like those of us who did genuinely read aziracrow as platonic the first go around are stupid or that we chose to ignore the romance.

because, to me at least, it always felt like people were calling the way i love stupid or that i’m actually ignoring my “real” feelings