#dead husbands

[tastywormfood]

They r so Precious to me. Netflix i hate you.

[thescarleteagle]

Can we talk about how in the U.S gets Constance Hatchway who is a really cool dynamic character don’t get me wrong, but, she looks like this…

Versus Disneyland Paris who gets Melanie Ravenswood who is also a really cool character that is almost the same as Constance, she but looks like this…

I WANT JUSTICE FOR CONSTANCE!!!🪓

[rexrattorum]

Inktober day 1: Beginnings

“Well, don’t you look like a snack.”

Grayson and Mastema met like any good love story, in prison in hell for killing their fathers!

[rexrattorum]

So if I made a shitty comic about grayson and his husbands life would you guys want to see that? It’s a little spoopy...

[olyoosk-blog]

crookedtie replied to your photo:oooh! qtpie!Yosuke and Labby have teamed up!...

It means Dojima-san and I both died.

oh shit really? HAha! 

[vampiremuses-blog]

She'd been able to ignore the way he awkwardly avoided making eye contact with the locals while they were on their honeymoon, or the way she spoke to the girl who delivered the clean laundry once a week. She tuned out the conversations he had with his friends when they came over for drinks. She could make herself smile and laugh and pretend he was joking when he said she done well to catch herself a white husband. Camille just kept reminding herself that he was filthy rich, and as long as she put up with his bullshit she'd keep getting new shoes and jewellery, and maybe her own car if she stayed extra quiet. 

But eventually the high of being newly married wore off and she woke up one morning unable to stand the sight of him. She wanted to slap him and tell him to be quiet even when he wasn't talking. For a long time, imagining that car was the only thing keeping her from doing it. Then after a while that wasn't even enough, and that was when the two of them started to fight.

"But it was supposed to be a compliment!" That was his argument most of the time. That or "You know I wasn't talking about you."

She was supposed to like that he talked about her as if she were a dog of above-average intelligence rather than a human being. She was meant to be flattered that he found her better looking than most black women.

She didn't, and she wasn't.

The night before Carmine died they had they argued so loudly that the neighbours two doors over could hear it. She threw a candlestick at his face and missed. He stormed off to his study and locked the door like he always did when he was too proud to lose an argument. They slept in separate rooms that night. The next morning he found her in the kitchen like nothing had happened. 

"I made crepes as a peace offering." She said, holding up a frying pan and batting her eyelashes innocently.

There was a pause before her husband took a plate from the counter and sat down. The smell of sauteed apples and vanilla coming from the stove made him feel guilty. 

"I'm sorry about what I said." He said sheepishly while she served him a plate. Crepes with cream and cooked apples was one of the only things her mother ever taught her to cook.

"You're forgiven." She smiled at him, knowing full well he probably didn't mean it. 

Camille didn't sit down or serve herself anything. She just stood a foot behind him and watched him eat. 

"These are good." He wiped his mouth. "You should cook more often." 

"It's my mother's recipe." She replied. 

When he finished his breakfast, he turned to her and furrowed his brow. 

The last words Carmine Domino ever said were "Why are you still holding that frying pan?" 

[vampiremuses-blog]

(( I never really decided on Camille's motive for killing her first husband but I'm thinking about it now. 

I think the best one I've come up with is that he ended up being really racist and she had to quietly put up with it until one day she just snapped ))

[vampiremuses-blog]

sometimes I imagine Camille and her vampire exes on dates where they just murder people with romantic montage music in the background

like imagine her and a guy sitting at a table in an old fashioned diner dreamily gazing at each other as they jam straws into their waiter's neck and share him like a milkshake 

walking along a boardwalk while holding hands and kicking people into the ocean

kissing in the rain but it's not rain it's actually blood