#What are some new unique wedding themes?

[hellishjoel]

when you know, you know (mini chapter)

3.2k / pairing: linecook!frankie x waitress f!reader Series Masterlist l Previous Chapter | Main Masterlist | Notifications Blog | Ko-Fi

summary: A flashback shows Tommy’s crew enjoying Christmas Eve at the diner. Frankie makes his first move with a New Year’s kiss. 

warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), half-ass editing because I’m exhausted (I’ll reread it tomorrow and fix any errors I catch, food and alcohol consumption, reader is has no physical description, swearing, smoking, pet names (princess, asshole ((yes it’s a pet name to me))), christmas/holiday themes, a first kiss is shared that starts this whole journey.

A/N: look at these stinkin cute dividers I made for Table for Two! like shut up! I hope this mini chapter holds you guys over for a little as I also give my focus to cherry thrill and delicate with the beautiful and talented @thetriumphantpanda! also thank you to @undercoverpena for helping me dial down my brain and helping me focus on writing what I really want to write first 💛

Tommy’s Diner. One year ago. The recollection of events is slightly impaired due to alcohol consumption.

The last time it snowed on Christmas Eve in Texas was 2012. It wasn’t a normal, pretty, White Christmas. It was snow. And sleet. And pea-sized balls of hail. The winter storm began in Breckenridge, near Denver. It grew and spiraled, traveling southeast to Northern Texas. 

By the time the storm saw Austin, it barely affected the city in terms of transportation. Just beautiful little white flakes, all of them unique, not one like the other. And it was dazzling. 

Now, ten years later, in a mythically euphoric way, they land on the pavement in front of your sneakers. A snowflake lands on the toe of your shoe, melting quickly into the material. You let out an appreciative hum and bundle yourself tighter in your jacket, letting the size swallow you. 

The diner bustles inside. It’s busy, very busy. You thought people would like to be at home on Christmas Eve, celebrating with their families before the holiday rounded out in the following twenty-four hours. But some people have traditions here. 

Older couples who met here on a first date still make their anniversary appearances. There’s this older couple you see like clockwork every year, Maude and Gil. 

Gil said he met Maude by accident. Took off from the lumber mill in a hurry to grab a late lunch. Maude was there on a date with another man. 

But Gil said it was love at first sight, watching her push her straw around the milkshake glass and trying to seem moderately entertained by her date. Gil thought they were a total match the instant he laid eyes on her. 

But Maude didn’t think the same. Not at the time, anyway. 

Gil said it was fine because he knew. He just knew. Even if Maude thought their timing wasn’t right at the moment, he’d try again when it was right. 

Maude said she found it endearing; how he’d chase, beg, concede, anything he had to do to get her to at least go out with him. He was persistent. And it paid off. 

Now, all these years later, with kids and grandkids, they were celebrating a date night before they travel to their daughter’s house for Christmas tomorrow. 

After penning in their order, you can’t help but smile at the couple. 

“You two are really cute.” A sweet grin is shared between the two patrons before they turn back to you. 

“When you know,” Gil pauses to take Maude’s hands across the table, wrinkles forming around old gold wedding bands, “you know.” 

You usually don’t get along well with older people. Sometimes you didn’t know how to talk to them. You didn’t understand the references they made and felt awkward trying to navigate back to the menu selections. That, or sometimes they were just plain rude, but you suppose anyone at any age can be fucking rude. 

In this part of Texas, some folks felt all too comfortable pushing religion or politics into your lap. And when they weren’t doing that, they were complaining about things that were out of your control. 

That light is giving me a headache. 

You don’t have any trees to park my car under. 

The mashed potatoes aren’t mashed enough. Like, sorry guys, but that sounds like a problem between you, the line cooks, and your denture implementation specialist. 

Then there were the more generous guests, those who tip well and sit in your section because they like your playful personality. Where talking doesn’t feel like a chore, and you’re so goddamn funny that they laugh at everything you say. 

There’s this ongoing joke between you and these older gentlemen who come every Sunday morning for breakfast. It goes something like,

“Hey, doll, did you put the whiskey in the coffee like I asked ya to?”

You’d playfully gasp, widen your eyes, and look at them with your mouth agape before you lightly smacked their shoulders with your ticket pad. “I certainly did not, my manager would have a fit.” You’d tease, wink, and pour a little extra coffee to top them off as they snickered. They were just guys young at heart who enjoyed making you laugh. 

Frankie would play cards with them on his break. Spin the chair around and have the back against the table, thick thighs straddling the seat as he nibbled on a toothpick. He always lost to them at poker but won at blackjack. 

Unfortunately, someone really did put some sort of schnapps in the coffee. The staff’s coffee. You weren’t going to name names, but you definitely saw who did it. And you weren’t telling. Especially since you were enjoying your third cup. 

Christmas music plays loudly in the back of the kitchen, the restaurant having been closed for the past hour. But for the love of God, Rudy couldn’t get you all to clean up the place and go home. 

“Jingle bell, jingle bell, jingle bell rock! Jingle bells swing and jingle bells ring! Snowin' and blowin' up bushels of fun, now the jingle hop has begun!” The entire kitchen sings, all terribly off-tune, but it makes it all the funnier. 

You double over in laughter as Carla, your five-foot-tall manager attempts to put a Santa hat on Frankie’s head. He simply crosses his arms and shakes his head, unwilling to bend down and let her put the stupid thing on already. 

Finally, with a roll of his eyes, he kneels down and takes the red Santa hat like a crown to a king. 

“You’re only fueling his ego!” You boo, Carla walking over and cheering her cup of coffee with yours. 

The kitchen is noisy after hours. 

All the crew has funneled to the back, sitting on countertops as Lou mops the floor and tells people to stay out of his way. Water sprays from multiple sink faucets as the dishwashers clean at a leisurely pace, too busy singing a rendition of whatever Christmas song played next off the radio. 

The old dishwasher hums along as it cleans. People talk or sing over each other, and it’s just loud. You’d be overstimulated if it wasn’t for the spiked coffee in your hand. 

“You put this booze in here, didn’t you?” You whisper to Carla as she circles back to your little corner of the counter, looking straight ahead as if she didn’t hear you. She’s as silent as a rock, which you can respect. 

“Alright, some manager you are.” 

She snickers at that, playfully slaps your thigh with the back of her hand, and watches the line cooks and busboys lazily scrub pots, pans, and plates, too busy howling out what they think are the correct lyrics to the classic Mariah Carey song playing. 

“Frankie!” Carla growls, her actual manager tone coming out now. Even Rudy shudders at the lion’s roar. 

Frankie looks up, wide-eyed like a kid about to get freshly yelled at. He’s got a cigarette hanging from his lips and a lighter one centimeter away, finger on the trigger ready to light it. 

“Go outside and smoke that, you know I can’t come home smelling like cigarette smoke! My kids will get mad at me. Shoo! Shoo!” She ushers with her hands, Frankie smirking against the cig and holding his hands up in playful defense. 

“Sorry Mama Bear, I’ll take it outside.” 

Carla playfully scoffs as he ducks down to kiss her cheek, giving him a roll of her eyes in return. 

Frankie’s eyes meet yours and he nudges his thumb into the pack of cigarettes, one inching out towards you. 

“Come on, princess. Let’s go.” 

You purse your lips to try and stop the smile, but you can’t help it. You push yourself off the counter and join him outside, the kitchen door closing behind you with a whoosh. 

It’s colder outside now, and the snowflakes fall faster but still melt as soon as they hit the pavement. 

You walk with Frankie to the loading dock. Tommy’s doesn’t have an actual loading dock, but it has an attached storage garage that houses old equipment. The concrete has questionable stains of varying colors and sizes. A game you and Frankie play is coming up with dramatic stories for each one. 

The large maroon puddle was definitely a murder covered up by a secret crime syndicate. The dark green dribbles every few inches are from a lizard-like monster, trailing its way through the garage where its buried itself under the concrete until it’s resurrection day in one thousand years. Or so they say. 

Frankie pulls a blue tarp off an old brown leather couch, both of you falling into it with a heavy sigh. 

Tonight was exhausting. The holidays in general were. 

“You goin’ anywhere for Christmas?” Frankie asks as you hold out your hand for the cigarette, but he lifts it to your lips instead. 

A playful smirk dances on your lips as you lean in and take the cigarette obediently, both of Frankie’s hands coming up as one flicks the lighter and the other shields the snowy breeze. 

The nicotine swirls down your throat and chills your chest, a nice contrast between the warmth the alcohol has spread through your tummy. Your eyes magnetize to the pretty orange blaze glittering at the end of the cigarette. 

“Yeah,” you breathe out, smoke billowing through the air and then into nothingness. “I took off from Christmas to New Year’s, so I’ll be at home with family. You?” 

Frankie makes a noncommittal noise, distracted by lighting his cigarette. He flicks the spark wheel multiple times, but the flame only grows smaller and smaller. To Frankie’s relief, it catches. He takes the dead lighter, damn near out of juice, and makes a long chuck to the dumpsters where it clatters deep inside. Dink-bong. 

“I’ll be here- wait, until New Year’s?” Frankie asks in disappointment, head tilting affectionately like a dog’s. 

You’re a bit shocked by the dramatic reaction, eyes scanning over him.  

“Uh.. yeah. Why?” 

He’s silent for a bit, eyes avoiding yours before he looks out beyond the freeway and into the void. You shrug it off and lift the cigarette to your lips again. If Frankie wants to say something, he will. 

“It’s pretty, isn’t it?” You nod your head towards the snow and Frankie agrees as he looks up at the sky with a fond little smile. 

“So, no New Year’s at Tommy’s for you this year, huh?” He circles back, and you’re all too curious. 

“Why do you care so much if I’m here on New Year’s or not?” Your demeanor is playful, but he’s dancing around the subject and you’d wish he’d just come out and say it. 

But he wanes on your temper and plays oblivious. “Was that Maude and Gil out there earlier?” 

You roll your eyes and shuffle closer to him on the couch. Frankie does the same. “Yeah. I wish they came here more than just on Christmas Eve. They’re so refreshing. They’re older, but cool.”

Frankie nods and lets the calm settle between you both. 

“Before Tommy retired and moved to Florida... Or ran and hid from his bookie due to his crippling gambling addiction, he said that he was long-time friends with Maude and Gil. They’ve been coming here for like… fifty years.” 

You scoff in disbelief and glance over to him. “Who would want to come to this dump for fifty years?” 

Frankie shrugs and smiles, leaning into your side as you lay your head on his shoulder. He’s warm. 

“I guess it’s all about perspective. We see Tommy’s as clock in, clock out. Run around until our feet hurt and work until we’re sweating pigs. The customers, people like Maude and Gil, they see this place as where their lives began.” Frankie’s eyes look beautifully starstruck in this moment. “Where they started, and where they reminisce. Where it all began. It’s perspective, princess.”

And just like that, he crashes the moment. Again. 

With a roll of your eyes, you sit up properly, shoulders shuddering inward from the cold. You shove off his hand that has somehow gone below the radar on your thigh, crossing your leg over the other and tugging down the skirt of your uniform.

“You gotta stop fucking calling me that incessant nickname, asshole” 

Frankie scoffs around the exhale of his cigarette. “Why don’t you make me?” 

“Oh, I could definitely make you, but where’s the fun in that, Francisco?” You smirk in his direction, but something shifts. 

His lips part but he’s at a loss for words, and his eyes dance over your face like he’s trying to memorize each pretty eyelash and the slope of your cheekbones. 

A weird feeling of charged energy zigzags back and forth between your bodies, stitching you closer together. Where the flirting goes a little too far and something could happen. It could keep going, like a snowball effect, both of you unwilling to stand down to the other. How far could things go? How far would you let them go?  

His eyes look incredibly deep brown in the night, but they pour into you all the same. The red bandana tied around his forehead keeps his unruly dark curls out of his eyes as the wind makes the strands flutter. He’s overwhelmingly handsome. You can feel your breath change, but you don’t want him to notice how your chest falls shallow under his eyeline. 

His husky voice breaks the pretty silence. 

“If you’re not here for New Year’s, then how are you supposed to be my New Year’s kiss?” 

An unbeatable smile breaks out across your face, feeling your stomach summersault. Oh, Frankie. 

You playfully shrug as you look beyond the loading dock at the snow that amounts to nothing, still melting upon greeting the asphalt. 

“Well. Sounds to me like you’re kissing the back of your hand on New Year’s. Just the same as last year. And the year before that. And the year before that.” 

“I’d rather kiss your ass, princess.” 

“Oh, I bet you would.” You both snicker and shake your heads. He’s still staring all too longingly. 

“Come on.” He speaks softer now. His head tilts so it’s closer to your level. “Lemme kiss you.” His head is hanging to the side, and he speaks with need. His tongue lines his lips and your breath staggers again. 

Your and Frankie’s cigarettes burn with abandonment, dangling between fingers settled in your respective laps. 

Why can’t a fire break out in the kitchen right now? It would be convenient. Anything to get Frankie from getting too close. Not that you wouldn’t mind kissing him, you just fear that you’d like it a little too much. And he would like it too. What if things changed?

All you can think to do is try to lighten the mood with a little teasing because it feels all too serious right now. 

“You don’t wanna kiss me.” 

Frankie scoffs and suckles on his cigarette again like it’s the most unbelievable thing he’s ever heard. “I would, I really would.” 

Fuck, it’s not working. “What if it’s weird? We work together.”

“It won’t be.” 

“How do you know?” You tease. 

“I just know.”

“Okay, but how do you know.” Frankie shrugs nonchalantly like it’s no big deal. “When you know, you know.” 

Surprise lines around your wide eyes, recognizing the all too familiar sentiment shared by Maude and Gil. The sentence you didn’t realize had so much importance to you until Frankie uttered the same words. 

“I- what did you say?” You ask, surely he didn’t just share the same expression. Or spare the same meaning. 

A cocky smirk tilts the right side of his mouth upwards. “When you know, you know.” He repeats unphased, eyes twinkling all too sweetly as he looks at you like you’re a wonder. 

It’s just one kiss. Nothing else will happen. You wouldn’t let it. 

Before you can overthink any further, before you can decline, his large palm casts itself over your cheek, thumb skimming across the silky flesh. Warmth floods your body, and it feels like time has frozen. The snow falls silently around you both, a soft whisper of the wind hissing through the air. 

“This alright?” He whispers. You feel so caught off guard, unable to respond with words, just a lousy excuse of a nod. 

The heel of his palm guides your jawline upward, lips mutually parting as you take each other in. Anticipation fills the air, fuels the rapid beat slamming around in your chest and nudging itself up in your throat. 

Your lips meet, warm and plush. You’re sure he’s not this gentle all the time, but he is in this moment. It’s tender and delicate, slowly taking you all in as if this is the last time he’ll ever get this chance. It probably will be. The bite of each other’s cigarettes tangle in your mouths. 

It’s unclear who deepens the kiss first, but there’s more of a desperation to this part. Both of his palms are on your cheeks now, bodies inching closer as your smaller palms fist lightly at the neck of his dingy white tee. You’re keeping him close, fuck, it’s so undeniable. 

The intensity that follows highlights a level of emotion you had far long ago locked away. Shoved into a locked crate and stored in secret under your bed. You didn’t like those feelings, they were cute looking from afar, but up close, they were monstrous. But you can’t deny you enjoy the movement of his lips against yours, both of you melting into a sweet rhythm that’s lined with desire. 

His tongue explores your mouth. Your fingers dance up the dip of his neck and sink into the warm flesh. He must like the feeling of your skin on his because he lets out a low hum of appreciation. The charged energy you felt before was now flooded, running on all cylinders to keep up with the feelings you and Frankie were exploring for the first time. 

It’s heated and flickers like his dead lighter. The bond grows deeper at this newfound connection, much different than a simple peck on the lips for a New Year’s kiss. 

It feels like it lasts forever but it’s gone so soon. You find yourself pulling away first, despite it taking all of you to do so. Frankie’s head naturally follows your own, wanting more, drunk off the taste. His lips brush yours again as you laugh. 

Both of you grin before you can stop yourselves. 

“Shit,” he mutters, pulling away finally as warmth kisses the apples of his cheeks. His thumb lines his lower lip like he wants to remember the electricity and the pattern of your kiss. “Sorry.” 

“No, it’s- fine.” You’re all flustered, both of you shifting farther away on the couch. 

“I got carried away,” 

“Yeah. You did.” Lie. 

“I liked it.”

“I know you did, Francisco.” The tight-lipped grin on your lips won’t disappear. But you could. 

Everything that follows is muddled sentences and interjections on both your parts. You start. 

“I’m gonna head back inside. Carla probably needs some help-”

“Yeah-”

“Are you-”

“Yeah, I’ll stay out here for a few more.” 

“Okay.”

“Okay.” 

You’re both nodding and you’re scrabbling for balance as your feet pace on shaky ground. You nudge your jacket tighter around your body as you drop the cigarette and smother it with the toe of your shoe. 

A shaky breath leaves you as you walk away and smooth out your uniform, thankful to have your back to him as you walk off and return to the kitchen’s back door. Or else he might see you smiling sheepishly. 

Series Masterlist l Previous Chapter | Main Masterlist | Notifications Blog | Ko-Fi

[hahaifolded]

Can We Make This Work? (1)

Nanami Kento x POC!FemReader x Gojo Satoru (Masterlist) Chapter 1: Surprise, you're getting married! (Next) Summary: After finding out that jujutsu sorcerers were appearing outside of Japan, the higher ups propose a union to consolidate their power. Warnings: Racist themes, coercion

It was a random Wednesday in Tokyo. In Gojo Satoru's eyes, there was absolutely nothing special about today. The only remotely exciting thing about today was the scheduled higher up meeting that had been in his calendar for weeks marked important. 

Every meeting is important for these geezers, thought the sorcerer. These meetings were always the same… there’s too many curses these days, let’s kill the vessel, you need to grow up Gojo… same old same old. It was any other day for Gojo Satoru.

The meeting started as usual. The higher ups getting on Gojo for his lack of respect for tradition… whatever that means. 

“But no worries. This union should change you for the better,” commented a voice. 

Huh, that was new. 

“The balance of the jujutsu world has shifted once again. What we once thought to be Japanese phenomenon is no more,” announced a voice. 

Another voice began as soon as the first ended. “After your confrontment with Miguel, we decided to look into the possibility of others like him. And much to our surprise, it seems that Jujutsu sorcerers have been spawning outside of Japan for years now. Some of them have even joined forces and made a governing body among these foreign sorcerers. They’ve just now came in contact with us and have asked for guidance.”

A third continued, “the initial plan was to wipe them out. However, many of them have presented techniques that we once believed to be only found among us. Attacking them would end up being too cumbersome for us.” 

Gojo, tired of this exposition, spoke up, “so if wiping them out is not an option anymore, what do you need me for?” To his surprise, deep hallow laughter filled the room. He didn’t like that. 

“Taking a page out of your book, we decided on a less violent approach. We offered these exotic sorcerers a union… a union between one of their strongest and one of our own.”

They don’t mean?

The first voice continued, "and since we've halted on further attempts on your students, I don't expect you to have any qualms with this deal. Make us look like fools and we won't hesitate to do the same to you." The laughter returned.

“Don't look too glum, Gojo. Today is a special day. You’re getting married.” 

— — —

I can’t believe this man. Nanami was stressed, and it wasn’t even his wedding. Much to his dismay, the groom-to-be had asked forced the 7:3 sorcerer to be his best man a few days ago.

Now he was rushing to the groom’s suite, looking for Satoru who was about to be late to his own wedding. 

“You better have a good reason for this, Gojo,” scolded the younger sorcerer as he swung the door open. Rushing in, he expected to see Satoru napping or just playing dumb, but instead he was met with the complete opposite. In the grand suite sat a complete living room set, vanity, and full-length mirror and absolutely no sign of the groom.

Not sensing the man, Nanami looked around the room. His eyes suddenly fell to a piece of paper that laid on the coffee table. As he neared the paper, the sorcerer couldn’t help but feel nervous. 

He felt his veins bulge in his neck as he read the words: Sorry, couldn’t to this. Congrats, you’re getting married! P.S. Sorry I couldn’t make it to your wedding, Nanamin.

I’m going to kill him.

Before Nanami could do anything, Principal Gakuganji walked in. “There you are, Nanami. The ceremony is about to start.” 

“I think there’s been—“ started the best man turned groom. However, he couldn’t get much out before the old man started to speak.

“You know when Gojo told us about your interest in this union, we thought the boy was just trying to get out of this. But after singing your praises and informing us about your uniques tastes for the exotic, the higher ups and I realized there was no better fit. A responsible, formidable grade 1 sorcerer, and... whatever these foreigners present. I can't picture a better union." Gakuganji smiled, or attempted to smile.

Nanami felt sick. He knew he couldn't stop this. The now-groom was nothing compared to the higher ups. He had always been and still was at their complete mercy. All he can hope that this union won't completely dismantle his life.

— — —

Kento Nanami always imagined his wedding would be small ceremony with a lot of heart. His and his bride's parents in the front as familiar faces filled the pews. Even when he reintegrated himself into jujutsu society and sidelined his dreams, the image of it never wavered.

What stood before him was the complete opposite.

Per request of the foreign sorcerers, the wedding was done in the Western tradition. The venue was filled with way too many unfamiliar faces, mostly from your side. His side was filled with fellow sorcerers and the Tokyo students. Yuji and Ino stared at him from their seats, whispering loudly about how come they weren't asked to be groomsmen or even told explicitly that this was his wedding. Nanami could feel a headache coming on.

To his dismay, the music starts. The doors at the end of the aisle snapped open as the wedding march began. Nanami couldn't help but feel nervous. His entire life was about to change all thanks to a certain menace. It also didn't help that his bride-to-be was completely covered from head to toe in a white veil. Nanami wasn't one to care for looks, but in this case, he just wanted to know what Gojo had gotten him into.

Did he get a glimpse of her and ran off, he couldn't help but think. Every possible worst case scenario ran through his mind as you walked down the aisle. What if he found she was a monster and- no despite everything, he wouldn't do that to me... right? As you got closer, Nanami's heart felt closer and closer of leaping out of his chest.

"Everyone, please take a seat," announced Principal Yaga. He smiled apologetically at Nanami. He realized what his older student did to the poor man before him. He let out a small cough and asked Nanami to lift your veil. Here we go, winced the sorcerer.

With his breath held, he slowly lifted your veil. The entire room completely disappeared as your face slowly came to light. Nanami was in awe. He was met with a sheepish smile and bright, kind eyes. A sight he didn't get to see much these days. You were truly a breath of fresh spring air, absolutely rejuvenating.

And with your face uncovered, your energy absolutely shook the room. For many of the Tokyo sorcerers, it felt weirdly familiar, but they couldn't put their finger on it.

As Nanami looked in your eyes, he thought, maybe this won't be so bad.

Word Count: 1160

Masterlist - Next

Author's Note: Y'all I was literally studying for my exam when this little thought popped up in my head. The way it festered and took a solid hold in my mind. So excited to write this!

I absolutely love how this chapter came out! I'll make a master list soon so stay tune!

[kxlitz]

★ Growing up with Tokio Hotel (Devilish) ★

AN: It is no secret that I adore the childhood friends trope with all of my soul. This is very self indulgent and I have zero shame about it.

!! Some if not most hcs are based off events from Bill Kaulitz’s book “Career Suicide” !!

Part 2

Warning! Underage drinking and Smoking, small mention of bullying, some sexual themes briefly addressed. Friendly reminder it’s Tokio Hotel we’re talking about

How did you end up in Magdeburg or Loitsche is up to you, but there is no denial in saying that you were at the right place, at the right time when you met a little boy with spiky black and red hair at your new school playground

Little Bill Kaulitz thought you were cool from the second he saw you. There weren’t many people in the school that he had an interest on or that even payed any positive attention to him. With you it was different. You looked kind and unique!

Quickly he introduced you to his brother Tom, him being a kid with a bit of an inflated ego it would take him some more time to warm up to you.

In the meantime, you and Bill became inseparable. You were basically glued to each other’s hip. His mom would drop him off at your place every Saturday for you guys to play with your Polly Pockets, Power Rangers, dressing up in some ridiculous outfits that were the highest of fashion for your little selves.

Bill’s mom genuinely loved how her son was not scared to be himself around you. She would often ask how you were doing and when you would come over next.

You started to grow on Tom thanks to his mom’s faith in you. If his beloved mom trusted you then so could he.

Tom was getting into skating at the time, he would offer you to learn with him or watch him do tricks.

He loved the attention.

He probably tried to charm you up but gave it up when he saw of how much worth you were. You guys did not bring it up again, only in interviews later on when you wanted to dirt on Tom.

Unfortunately you wouldn’t always be shielded from the chaos in their childhood. One way or another you would probably end up trashing a train or smoking blunts behind the school bushes very early on.

It wasn’t uncommon for you to show up to class totally high.

On the evening you guys would grab your bikes, or you would ride with one of them, and head down by a lake to smoke, chat and unwind. Throwing rocks in and seing how many times it bounced.

With time the twins found their one true love, music. They dreamed big, long gone were the school talent shows and weddings. They wanted to reach the world.

For that, their little singer, guitarist duo with a keyboard that played bass and drums wouldn’t work.

One morning right before class the boys came up to you, literally sprinting and blabbering at the same time. You only understood “band, you, join, casting”

From that moment on you were doomed.

If you didn’t play an instrument already the twins’s step-dad would happily accept you into his music school for free.

Through his acquaintances you guys found a drummer. He was immature for his age according to Tom. He wore glasses and a little shirt with a cow skiing.

When the day of the “casting” as the twins called it came, Gustav played some Phill Collins and solos for you guys. Clearly it wasn’t a real casting and you were fully aware that this boy was your best bet at getting a drummer for your newly formed band. Yet, the boys took it very seriously.

Tom replied “alright good you have the job” and rolled with it.

What were the odds that at the same music school Gustav attended there was an aspiring bassist.

Again, it was your best bet so you took Georg in.

If your first language was english it could’ve gone two ways when the twins came up with the name “devilish”. You either loved it and thought it was sick or you cringed yet had to tag along with it for the boys.

Now you guys had the time of your lives with the band.

Weekdays after school would be spent entirely at the garage jamming out and drinking. You all sucked at the beginning, barely mastering your instruments but your charm stood out.

Georg and you became friends right away. His energy jumped right at you and you both became such a comedic duo.

He started the fire and you just added fuel to it.

You loved to prank your friends so much.

And innuendos. So many innuendos.

Once Tom joins into your madness, it’s over for everyone else.

It wasn’t rare for you three to come back home all messed up and pass out on Tom’s couch.

Gustav baking and making little snackies for the band while you rehearse !!

Well, you drank and lazied around more than rehearsing per say.

Tom, Georg, Gustav and you playing video games all coddled up on a couch together.

Thank god Bill is there to kick your asses so you actually play music.

Tom and You developed a habit of playing back to back. You thought it looked cool.

Gustav is the glue that keeps you all together, and away from major trouble. Half he time at least.

Quickly enough you gained a little fanbase in town.

At school you might’ve been the outcasts still, but the older and “cooler” kids took you in happily.

Not much changed, it was the same old story of drinking, smoking, trashing shit down but now with the slight change that everyone around you was discovering their sexuality.

You walk in and Georg’s wanking in the corner? Throw a blanket over him and continue with whatever you were doing.

Being around four young boys and their friends surely set you up to become just as shameless as them.

You guys got very familiar with one another and could not care less about changing in the same room or sleeping in the same bed.

You guys were starting to become a set of quintuplets.

You were probably one of the first if not the first person that Bill ever talked to about questionning his orientation and the little romance he had with his old friend.

If you happen to be a part of the community as well, Bill was your confidant as well. It was you guys’s little secret before coming out of the closet.

Needless to say, when Bill got the confirmation that he would be attending “Starsearch” he jumped right into your arms. You were one of his biggest supporters and he wanted you to be there for him.

Bill might’ve not won the competition, but it opened a door for your little band.

[hmshermitcraft]

(early ask for the faeries theme!) The Court that Lizzie and Skizz grew up in is... unique. The traps set for mortals are lesser; the Hunts are never as... intense; and not only that, but making friends with the mortals living outside their forest is both encouraged and pretty frequent!

Why? Because their Queen fell in love with a mortal. Skizz and Lizzie aren't pure magic, like every other Faerie- they're the result of the Queen's own magic, imbued with bits of her husband's memories. Lizzie takes more towards the magical side, while Skizz has always favored the Endborne parts of himself.

So, of course, it's not surprising when Skizz meets a mortal and becomes his best friend near-instantly. It's not surprising that he chooses to give up some of his own immortality to go explore the world outside the forest. It's not surprising that he keeps coming back, keeps visiting his family with new friends in tow every time.

What is surprising is that one of the friends he brings turns out to be... weirdly cute, with the streak of green in his hair and flushed face and stuttering whenever he tries to talk to Lizzie.

...And, listen, if there's a wedding a few years later, right on the border of the forest? If Joel gets a few more decades added to his lifespan, if Lizzie gains the ability to die?

Well, that's just for them to know.

All of these things may be hypothetical, but what is very real is the happiness within the Court. Their parties are extravagant, with human ingenuity elevating them to new heights. Human and Fae dance side by side, and small children, a mix of the two, seem to be appearing throughout the people more and more commonly as Lizzie and Skizz flourish.

After all, it's impossible to deny that, hypothetically, Lizzie and Joel make the cutest couple. And even harder to deny the joy Skizz experiences adventuring with how friends (and taking credit for his sister's relationship.)

[babygirltangerine]

i often think about how the environment plays such a big role in the storytelling of the bullet train movie while also shaping the story itself, and all of the characters have such a unique way of interacting with their surroundings, with their belongings, and with objects in general. i'm also interested in the meanings they ascribe to these objects, so of course i have to make a post about it.

for the wolf, objects remind him of where he's been, what he's been through and what he's accomplished: we see his identity tied to the wolf pendant he'd been given as a boy, and he takes clothing articles from the people he kills (like the sunglasses, shoes, and hat) as he rises through the ranks of el saguaro's organization. it's also very meaningful that he wears his wedding suit to the train (and part of that is a belt that says mexico on it).

objects for tangerine signify who he wants to be - a lot of his identity management is wrapped up in portraying himself as polished, as wealthy, and as in control, and again, clothing and jewelry is a big part of this. also important to mention is his kleptomania and his compulsive need to accumulate as much as possible (which i interpret as a symptom of his growing up in poverty) and this is just one way the story clarifies that his image is an expression of desire and a crafted self rather than an authentic one. tangerine is constantly grappling for control and objects play a large part in establishing this theme, but objects are mostly in control of him, not the other way around.

objects for ladybug are tied to survival, not only for himself but for those around him. they're distractions and decoys, they buy time and disarm his opponents in intentionally non-lethal ways. he doesn't like guns. he doesn't like to kill, and he is incredibly resourceful in his pursuit of nonviolence. ladybug is in a constant state of damage control and the objects he chooses to discard or keep in his possession give him some sense of control over his bad luck.

objects for lemon provide a means of communication and a lens for understanding the world and the people around him. the sticker book objectifies the role thomas the tank engine plays in his life, and acts not only a reference for him to categorize personalities but also as a way to express his beliefs to those around him. percy sticker, diesel sticker, thomas sticker. i also like that objects for lemon tend to have protective qualities - the bulletproof vest saved him from the gunshots and tangerine's medallion saved him from drowning. when i rewatch the movie, i appreciate how this makes me feel like he's never in any real danger despite the massive target on his back as a black man ("i don't bleed").

objects for prince provide a way to get what she wants. she uses weapons - taser, rigged gun, explosives in the briefcase - and disguises to achieve her goals. she uses objects to manipulate people and paint a picture of herself as innocent and harmless. at the same time objects reveal her true nature, such as the shibumi novel she reads and the dangerous scissors-inspired hair clip. the hornet uses objects similarly. for her it's also all about stealth and weapons and disguises.

objects for shigeru relate to his past, the knowledge he's gained from it, his goals and his beliefs. thinking of the cane with the sword inside, how he fights with both, and the flowers - how he went into hiding and became a florist. we see him with flowers at various stages in his goal to get revenge on the white death (in the hospital room with wataru, as he boards the train, and when the white death has finally been defeated). when i think of shigeru and flowers, i also think of his trust in fate, the natural world and the forces of the universe.

for the white death, objects signify beginnings and endings. i associate the white death with his mask (again, identity management, the mask signals the birth of a new criminal empire and the emergence of its new leader) as well as the car he was meant to be in, and his robe and slippers. the beginning of his reign and the end of it, how objects symbolize his rise to power and the consequences he's now facing.

the importance of objects in the story can also be seen through the prominence of the briefcase, the water bottle, the rigged gun, the wolf's knife, and the tangerine and lemon truck, all of which serve a narrative purpose and have a presence in the story from the beginning to the end.

[hooked-on-elvis]

[📸PHOTO STORY⚡] A couple of "first-times" — Elvis and Alfred Wertheimer, 1956

On the next two pictures, on March 17, 1956, Elvis seeing in his "argyle socks, shantung pants and jacket, black shirt, freshly combed slick brown hair and a sneer" at CBS Television Studio 50. This was the moment Alfred was first introduced to EP (photo taken by him). By Alfred Wertheimer's accounts, to him, Elvis "didn't look much like a star, more like just another backstage guy'.

At the moment this picture was taken, Mr. Wertheimer said "a balding jewelry salesman (seen sitting beside Elvis) was handing him a diamond ring that could have been seen from the back row of Carnegie Hall. Elvis pulled his feet off the table, leaned on the back of another chair, and in a soft low voice with a mild Southern accent, said simply, 'Hi.' He returned his examination of the ring, a diamond-studded horseshoe around a gold horse's head. I took my place behind the camera. The salesman closed the deal."

Excerpt from "Elvis '56 In The Beginning" by Alfred Wertheimer.

This was a 14k gold ring that belonged to Elvis Presley early in his career. Designed in the shape of a horseshoe with fourteen single-cut diamonds around the surface while a horse head adorns the middle, this ring was worn pretty frequently by the King for a number of years.

Those March 1956 pictures show the purchase of one of Elvis' first most easily relatable diamond jewelry pieces and Alfred Wertheimer's first, of what would become exclusive, unique and legendary, shots of the King of Rock and Roll.

ADDITIONAL INFO On Elvis' horseshoe rings:

EP is known for giving away his own things as quick as the thought, so he gave some of his own horseshoe rings away and ordered new ones. As the years passed and EP's love for horses grew, more rings would be made on the same theme, even by his private jeweler Lowell Hays - and by the way Elvis and Priscilla owned matching horseshoe rings in the 60s.This picture below shows EP and Priscilla wearing matching horseshoe diamond rings - Elvis' is not the same ring bought in 1956, it's a different one. Elvis and Priscilla were wearing those horseshoe matching rings on their wedding day in May 1, 1967.

If Elvis liked the “Good-Luck” idea behind this famous symbol, possibly... specially by the beginning of his career when it would come to great use. EP's jewelry contained themes and selected precious stones, full of meaning and grace. As he grew older he came to study astrology and numerology, and would even know the meaning of 'birth stones' and he would use this to chose and gift his loved ones with beautiful exclusively-made jewelry pieces with their own birth stones on it at times; besides Elvis was a believer... in God above anything else, but even tho he was a Christian man, he didn't deny anything was possible, so harmless mysticism was welcomed in his mind as well. With this said, it's not hard to believe Elvis indeed chose the horseshoe ring for a reason. But either the case, the man didn't need any help from lady luck.🍀

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

On Alfred Wertheimer's background story:

In March 1956, Alfred Wertheimer was hired by Anne Fulchino, publicist for the Pop Record Division of RCA Victor, to photograph Elvis. Here's Anne with EP:

Elvis, RCA Victor' Pop Records Division publicist, Anne Fulchino, and a William Morris' agent [name unknown] on March 17, 1956 at NBC's Studio 50, New York City. © Photo by Alfred Wertheimer.

[cheapshrimpysheep]

1K Followers Celebration - Requests

Requests CLOSED

ORIGINAL:

(This post may change in the future)

In celebration of my 1000 Followers (which I don't even know how I got 😅), I'm opening requests for TWISTED WONDERLAND and OBEY ME! this December.

I had already opened requests before, if you want to see the list of them, here it is 👇

500 Followers Celebration - Requests

If you want to know why I don't usually have requests: I'm relatively new to writing for tumblr and wanted to write my ideas. As a person committed to finishing what I start, I knew that if I had requests I could put a lot of weight on my own shoulders. So I will only do this on special occasions, and when I know I will have time to write them.

Before you make your request, I just wanted to tell you what I am writing/have already written but I haven't posted yet, so you don't need to request for this ones.

🪞 TWISTED WONDERLAND:

You Will Stop the Wedding! - Overblot Students (Riddle Rosehearts / Leona Kingscholar / Azul Ashengrotto / Jamil Viper / Vil Schoenheit / Idia Shroud / Malleus Draconia)

Pocky Day - All Students (?) - I'm still thinking about this one, but what would it be like if you told them about Pocky Day and wanted to play it with them?

I also want to make posts with the clubs, I'm just waiting for the cards to appear on the Eng Server and then I can start writing.

😈 OBEY ME!:

Popular with the Ladies - Demon Brothers (Lucifer; Mammon; Leviathan; Satan; Asmodeus; Beelzebub & Belphegor) Based on the card "Popular with the Ladies”. You saw photos of them with succubus on Devilgram. What will they do when you seem uncomfortable or even upset about this?

Glamping - Demon Brothers (Lucifer; Mammon; Leviathan; Satan; Asmodeus; Beelzebub & Belphegor) Based on the most recent event.

✅GENERAL RULES:

I only write Reader-inserts.

Up to 7 Characters per request.

Only 1 request per message.

I intend to write like I usually do, like "What if...". So Imagines and Headcannons. The number of words depends on how inspired I will be. But I usually don't reach 1k words.

I always write Gender Neutral Reader. If you want a specific gender, I just feel comfortable writing Fem Reader, since I myself am one.

🚫I WILL NOT WRITE:

NSFW / smut

Yandere

Dark Themes / Themes that require some kind of trigger warning. (Examples:  rape, suicide, eating disorders, panic attacks, abuse, etc.)

Angst UNLESS it ends with fluff/comfort 

I like to read these kinds of things for comfort, so I also write to comfort the reader. So something that strays too far from that, I won't write.

🪞 TWISTED WONDERLAND:

I follow the English Server. So please don't ask me for anything about story and/or events that have only happened on the Japanese Server. Sorry. 😔

Students only. In Ortho’s case, uniquely platonic. In Rollo's case, I feel like I don't have enough information about the character, but I can try.

I always follow Canon. No AUs. Unless it's small things like the reader is already in a relationship with them, I don’t know. The further away from the canon the less I'll know how the heck they would behave. 😅

😈 OBEY ME:

Characters that are part of the Intimacy System only. In Luke's case, uniquely platonic. I still don't know enough about Mephistopheles, Thirteen or Raphael to be able to write anything with them.

Please tell me which timeline you would like: Original or Nightbringer. Otherwise, I'll pick the one that I think will make the most sense.

I always follow Canon. But if you want some kind of AU, please let it be something I can adapt to some Levi’s cursed game or something like that.

You can make your requests by asking me.

Even if you don't ask for any request, I wanted to say that I'm really glad that you enjoy my writing. And I am very grateful to everyone who likes, comments and/or reblogs my writing.

When I started writing for this account what I thought was "Why not? I like reading other people's imagines, maybe someone will like reading mine." I never thought I would reach 100 followers, much less 1K.

It's very rewarding to write for someone who will read it and enjoy it.

Thank you so much! 💖

If you landed on this post out of nowhere and want to know read some of the things I've already written, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[snapdragonsimming]

Author's Note and Transcript Under the Cut

(AN: Hello! Thank you for stopping by and checking out my fledgling fundie simblr. I’m by no means new to simblr, but because this blog and story is new, I figure an introduction is due.

So: hey, I’m Talia! I had another fundie simblr a few years back (it’s now inactive for a multitude of reasons), but like a certain someone, I have risen again! My fundie sims obsession was reignited over the summer after I joined a wonderful fundie sims-themed Discord server. Somehow they convinced me to make a new blog, and a few months later, here we are! In the intervening years I continued to lurk, so if you’re an active fundie simblr, I’m probably a fan of your story.

I’ve been playing the de la Cruz family for a while now and they have a special place in my heart- I can’t wait to share them with everyone else! Get ready for lots of God-honoring drama, mildly dubious baby names, and leopard-print modesty undershirts. Note that as the de la Cruzes are fundamentalists and this story is satire-heavy, there will be some viewpoints expressed that I very much disagree with. I’ll trigger tag certain sensitive subjects (e.g. physical violence, miscarriages) as ‘tw [thing]’ but fundie-typical bullshit will go untagged for the sake of my sanity.

Some basic housekeeping stuff to wrap up this far-too-long intro note: I have a queue full of posts ready to go, but I’m a busy student with unpleasant things like homework and AP classes, so I’m still not sure how frequently I’ll post. I’ll do my best to ensure that stays consistent, though, and if you have any questions or comments, please feel free to reach out via my askbox or DMs!)

-

PRAISING HIM!

Every Sunday, Praising Him! features a family dedicated to spreading the Word. Today we meet the de la Cruzes, a San Sequoian family of 16.

When Alejandro and Alina (née Fletcher) de la Cruz married at nineteen, they could not have imagined what would come next! Over the past twenty-six years, the couple has made faith the centerpiece of their lives, and has continued to “Praise Him!” through the ups and downs of busy family life.

Read more about their family below!

-

Alejandro, 45, works as a programmer at United Christian Publishers, and holds a Distinguished Degree in Computer Science from Foxbury Christian University. He began his journey into higher education not at 18, like many students, but at 26, shortly after the birth of his seventhborn, Cecilia! Owing to his unique circumstances, he chose to enroll in a six-year program that enabled him to work full-time as a freelance programmer in addition to his courseload. Though money was tight at times, the Lord provided, and Alejandro welcomed five bundles of joy (including a darling set of twins!) with wife Alina while enrolled at Foxbury. Whew!

Alina, 45, has chosen to fulfill God’s design for women by staying at home with her family. Raised in a devout household, she always knew He was calling her toward marriage and motherhood, and she says the “greatest blessing” in her life was the day she gave birth to her eldest son Gabriel, ten months after her wedding day and just shy of her twentieth birthday. In addition to raising and homeschooling the seven de la Cruz children who have yet to graduate, Alina is active in her church and in Institute for Strong Christian Standards (ISCS) circles, and enjoys spending time with her four (soon to be five!) beautiful grandbabies. A true Proverbs 31 woman if we’ve ever seen one!

You may recognize Gabriel de la Cruz and his lovely wife Esther, 23, from last summer’s print edition of Praising Him! At just 25, Gabriel is a rising star in the Christian legal world, coming to the aid of innocent Simericans simply trying to practice their faith. Ten months ago, they welcomed their first little girl, Abigail, and just last week they announced the upcoming arrival of their second child! Congratulations to them.

-

Althea Brown (née de la Cruz), 24, is following in her mother’s footsteps and proud of it! The young woman, who wed husband John-David, 28, three years ago, resides in Newcrest and is a content stay-at-home-mother of two.

Jasmine Booth (née de la Cruz), 23, known to friends and family as “Jazzy,” is enjoying the bliss of new parenthood alongside her husband of two years, Jason!

The first set of de la Cruz twins, Joshua and Sofia, 21, are both unattached and living at home. Sofia is pursuing a calling in missionary work, and Joshua is hard at work saving money and praying for his future family. “If you’re reading this as a young Christian woman,” Sofia jests, “have your father write into Praising Him! and I’ll set up a date with Josh!”

Caterina de la Cruz, 20, is diligently knitting, crocheting, sewing, embroidering, and cross-stitching her way through her season of singleness! Though she prays every day for her Prince Charming (nonbelievers need not apply!), she assures Praising Him! that she’s quite content to assist her mother in running the busy de la Cruz household in the interim.

Cecilia de la Cruz, 18, the only unmarried de la Cruz not living at home, declined to comment.

The rest of the de la Cruz children, who range in age from 8 to 17, are kept busy with homeschooling, ISCS conferences, music practice, and Bible study.

If you would like to get in touch with the de la Cruz family, click here to send a message!

[doomedandstoned]

Austin’s AIWASS Resurrect  Scottish Folk Song ‘Cruel Brother’ in New Single

~Doomed & Stoned Debuts~

By Billy Goate

Artwork by gozien_crayon

It has been estimated that some four million new songs are being released into the world of sound every year. Certainly, it's been hard -- neigh, impossible -- to keep up with all the new albums churned out just in the doom scene. As a consequence, it is all too easy to loose touch with the great songs of the past. I'm not talking about songs from the '70s, '80s or '90s, but those written generations and generations ago, stretching back into Medieval and Renaissance times.

That's why it's so refreshing to encounter a band taking on an old Scottish ballad like the one before us. Taking a cue from Battlefield Band, the traditional folk group who brought "Cruel Brother" to a wider audience decades ago, Austin, Texas band AIWASS gives this tragic tale a unique twist.

Dark, moody synthesizer surrounds the senses as the track begins, as if to transport us hundreds of years into the past to a scene unthinkable: a dying bride, a spiteful brother, a grieving knight, and an atmosphere teeming with sadness and revenge. Gently plucked mandolin strings cross with acoustic guitar. Misty, forlorn vocals tell the tale of love found and lost, eventually engaging the full powers of the doom metal quartet, complete with foreboding drums and bluesy, bittersweet guitar riffs.

Frontman Blake Carrera comments:

The themes of the song, despite being an old Scottish ballad, are quite familiar to listeners of doom and metal in general: love, lust, violence, and loss. By reinterpreting this song, we hope to bring the past into the future. The screams at the end of the song are not just an identification that this is “blackened doom”; they are also the screams of loss and sadness that are perpetuated throughout time by all of us.

Aiwass caught my ear during the pandemic, when we premiered and gave a detailed review of their first LP Wayward Gods. Since then, the band has expanded with founding member Blake Carrera (vox, guitar, mandolin, synth) joined by Eddy Keyes (vox, acoustic guitar, bass), Pablo Anton (guitar), and Grant Husselman (drums). As a result, the Aiwass sound has evolved into something wonderfully nuanced and altogether powerful.

"Cruel Brother" will be issued as a standalone single on Friday, March 28th (get it here). Fans of Green Lung, take notice

Give ear...

AIWASS - Cruel Brother

Follow The Band

Get Their Music

LYRICS

[Verse 1] There were three ladies played at baw Hey wi the rose and the linsey o But a knight cam by, played ower them aw Doun by the greenwood sidie o

[Verse 2] This knight bowed low tae aw the three Hey wi the rose and the linsey o But tae the youngest, he bent his knee Doun by the greenwood sidie o

[Verse 3] O lady fair, gie me your haun' Hey wi the rose and the linsey o And I'll mak ye lady ower aw my land Doun by the greenwood sidie o

[Verse 4] Sir knight, ere you my favour win Hey wi the rose and the linsey o Ye maun gain consent ower all my kin Doun by the greenwood sidie o

[Verse 5] He gained consent fae her parents dear Hey wi the rose and the linsey o And likewise fae her sisters fair Doun by the greenwood sidie o

[Verse 6] He's gained consent ower all her kin Hey wi the rose and the linsey o He forgot tae speak tae her brother John Doun by the greenwood sidie o

[Verse 7] When the wedding day was come Hey wi the rose and the linsey o This knight would take his bonnie bride home Doun by the greenwood sidie o

[Verse 8] Her mother led her through the closs Hey wi the rose and the linsey o And her brother John stood her on her horse Doun by the greenwood sidie o

[Verse 9] He took a knife baith long and sharp And he stabbed the bonnie bride tae her heart

[Verse 10] Lead me tae yon high, high hill Hey wi the rose and the linsey o And I'll lie doun and I'll mak my will Doun by the greenwood sidie o

[Verse 11] And what will ye gie tae your brother John Hey wi the rose and the linsey o The gallows tree for tae hang him on Doun by the greenwood sidie o

[Verse 12] And what will ye gie to your brother John's wife Hey wi the rose and the linsey o The wilderness tae end her life Doun by the greenwood sidie o

[hahaifolded]

Can We Make This Work? (3)

Nanami Kento x POC!FemReader x Gojo Satoru (Masterlist) Chapter 3: Grade Me (Previous) (Next) Summary: Nanami confronts Gojo. You show off your cursed technique. Warnings: Themes of Racism, Power Imbalance, In-World Typical Violence

Nanami is the first to wake up. At first he was shocked to see that he wasn’t in his own bed, but as he took the hotel room in, the events from last night slowly came back to him. He couldn’t believe it. In the span of 24 hours, he got engaged, got married, and met his wife… in that exact order.

He couldn’t help but feel slightly bitter about the situation. If anything was supposed to be his to decide, it should have been this. But once again, life showed him that nothing was truly in his hands. Before he could spiral, gentle snoring interrupted his thoughts.

At least she seems nice, he thought. Even if you weren't, there’s nothing he could really do. The higher ups were clear. This marriage had to work to ensure peace on both sides. They had warned the 7:3 sorcerer that your superiors were aching for a chance to wage war against them. This marriage was the only thing keeping them from attacking. Nanami knew that he had to do his best and tolerate this marriage. Taking a deep breath, Nanami rose, ready to take this marriage one day at a time.

— — —

The honeymoon was short as you were immediately summoned to Tokyo Jujutsu High. After leaving you with Yaga, Nanami walked the grounds, in search of a certain sorcerer. He eventually found him as his irritating laugh gave his location away. Walking out of the classrooms, Nanami found Gojo talking to the first years.

As if everything was fine, Gojo excitedly greeted his companion. “Nanamin! Don’t you look great today. I see that marriage is treating you kindly. Again, really sorry that I couldn’t ma—.” Unfortunately for Gojo, everything was not fine as Nanami put the man in a chokehold.

“Do you think this is funny?” hissed the newlywed. I can’t believe him. I know he can be immature but this is a new low… even for him.

Slighting struggling under his companion’s grip, Gojo choked out, “you know… this is fair. But do you mind not doing this in front of the kids? You’ll ruin the image they have of me.”

“Don’t worry at all. It’s not even a positive one,” assured Megumi. Nobara seconded him while Yuji looked on sheepishly.

Realizing that killing the students’ teacher in front of them wasn’t a great look, Nanami dragged Gojo inside. After throwing him inside a classroom, Nanami began to berate the special-grade sorcerer. “I really can’t believe you. What made you think it was okay to sign me up for an arranged marriage without telling me?”

“I don’t see what’s the big deal. She’s got a nice smile,” reasoned Gojo. Or what he thought was valid reasoning.

Nanami felt his eye twitch. “That’s not the point, Gojo! I didn’t want to get married and if I did, IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN ON MY OWN TERMS!”

“Look, I get it,” admitted Gojo. He walked up to the angry man and placed a hand on his shoulder. With complete sincerity, Gojo continued, “I know you didn’t want this but this was literally the best thing I could come up with. The higher ups get their wedding. And that girl isn’t forced to marry someone who would just lead her to a quick death or worse, someone who would take full advantage of the situation. Nanami, you and I both know that you are the only sorcerer who would respect that girl.”

Nanami felt his anger dissipate slightly. Gojo unfortunately had a point. He recalled your words from yesterday - “I'm used to being a pawn.” You were as much of a victim here as he was.

“Fine… but was it really necessary to say that I have a unique taste for the exotic? That just makes me look like a creep,” complained the 7:3 sorcerer.

“I had to sell it some way,” smiled Gojo. Patting Nanami on the back, he said, “come with me. Time to show how good of a husband you are!” Nanami just stared at him confused.

— — —

"In a few moments, we will accurately measure your strength," announced Gakuganji. After showing you the grounds and giving you a quick rundown of how things worked, Principal Yaga and Ijichi took you to the school's track where the old man waited. Despite sharing the rank that your own superiors had assigned you, Gakuganji and the rest of the higher ups refused to accept it, deeming it flawed. It irked you how he excused it by saying that your association mostly likely used primitive ways to measure strength. But you held your tongue.

"And if you don't mind, we informed the teachers about this in case they wanted to bring out their students," informed Ijichi. You nodded. I mean even if I did mind, you already told them, you thought.

"Ah look, it seems like they took us up on our offer," proudly proclaimed Principal Yaga as he signaled towards the group of teens walking towards you. It surprised you how normal they all looked. They're just a bunch of kids. Kinda weird to think that they can all see-- wait is that a panda?

Before you could dwell much on that final student, you caught a glimpse of your husband and another man walking closely behind the students. Your husband seemed annoyed as the man next to him talked his ear off.

"HEY HUSBAND!" you yelled through a grin. That seemed to egg the man next to Nanami as he started to push your husband to greet you.

"Don’t leave her standing there! Say something, Nanamin," gushed the man. As he got closer, you caught how flushed your husband's cheeks were. Everyone looked on either in amusement or indifference by the display of mild affection.

“Hello (Y/N),” he said tensely. You just laughed at your husband’s shyness. You turned towards the man next to him and flashed him a quick smile. The man in a blindfolded looked at you, then at Nanami, and once again back to you, almost waiting for something.

Smacking Nanami’s arm, he cried, “introduce me, Nanamin!” Nanamin, oh that’s cute.

“This is Gojo Satoru, a co-worker,” informed Nanami in an unamused tone. Gojo gasped at his words.

“Co-worker? I’m your best friend in the whole wide world.”

“Please just ignore him.” You laughed at your husband’s blatant dislike for Gojo.

“Nice to meet you, Gojo. Are you both here to watch me?” you asked. Gojo immediately jumped in, letting you know about his role as a teacher on campus and how this was a great opportunity for his students to see a friendly jujutsu sorcerer sparring match (and not the perfect excuse for him to not teach class). You laughed at your husband’s 'co-worker’s' antics. You turned back to talk to Nanami but Gakuganji’s voice interrupted you.

“Mei-Mei, so good to have you here. Here’s the girl that you will be fighting.” You glanced behind your husband and saw a woman slowing making her way towards you all. This must be my opponent.

— — —

As Mei Mei walked through the crowd, she looked you up and down. Really? This is the girl that everyone is talking about? She was disappointed as she expected someone with much more presence garner so much attention overnight. It wasn’t everyday that Nanami Kento, the most prudent sorcerer to ever grace this planet, take a woman.

As she walked past Nanami, she couldn’t help but slyly rub the sorcerer’s arm to 'congratulate' him on his recent nuptials. She saw your eyes narrow and felt your cursed energy slip out. She was unfazed. Doesn’t matter? I’ll put her in her place, Mei-Mei thought.

After Yaga explained the rules, you stood in front of Mei-Mei, ready to fight. With the blow of a whistle, the fight began. Maybe I'll comfort Nanami after I beat his wi--.

Before she could finish her thought, Mei Mei was suddenly flung in the air, chest burning in pain. What the hell! Expecting to crash into the bleachers, she covered her back with cursed energy to soften the blow. However, instead of smacking into the bleachers, she felt a singular blow on her back, flinging her back to the grass.

What the fuck?

-- -- --

Gojo whistled. Everyone else stood in awe. It was clear that you weren't just a measly grade 1 sorcerer. As Mei Mei struggled to get up, you made your way back to the crowd.

"Are we done here or do you need to see more?" you asked. You slowly reeled in your cursed energy, an energy that felt awfully familiar to Gojo.

Yaga cleared his throat. "Almost. Can you give us a quick presentation of your cursed technique?"

"Of course." You faced the crowd and opened your mouth. Gojo sensed a significant swirl of cursed energy move up your throat. Must be singing based, assumed the blindfolded man.

Instead of a note or even noise leaving your mouth, however, it was two small creatures. They weren't small for long as the second they touched the ground, they grew in size. The creatures, a pale deformed humanoid with a gaping hole instead of mouth and an overgrown lizard-thing with tufts of hair, roared at the crowd, but made no efforts to lunge at them. Cursed spirits.

You nodded your head towards the struggling sorcerer and the curses snapped. Simultaneously, they rushed towards Mei Mei, growling and lunging to hold her. The tall humanoid grabbed the woman by her leg and held her above the other curse who leapt in the air, trying to take a bite out her. Mei Mei screamed as she thrashed in its grip.

Before the curse could actually bite the grade 1 sorcerer, Gakuganji spoke up. "That's enough!" With a small smile on your face, you nodded. In an instant, the curses dropped Mei Mei and begrudgingly made their way back to you. As they got closer, they shrunk in size until they were small enough to crawl on your extended hand that sat on the floor.

There's no way she's going to--. Once again, you surprised Gojo as you took the two curses on your hand and popped them in your mouth. You swallowed them and immediately gagged.

"Sorry! I still haven't gotten used to the taste of curses," you said in a strained voice. Everyone looked at you in shock as many were reminded of a former curse user.

Gojo felt his heart beat as memories of his youth flashed before his eyes. There was no doubt in his mind about what you were. Special grade for sure.

Word Count: 1766

Previous - Masterlist - Next

Author's Notes: Prepare for a word vomit! I had so much fun writing this chapter. Honestly I’m really excited to write this story out. But I low key wish I was able to write like drabbles and shit cause like every thought I have ends up being many connected thoughts.

In terms for what I wrote in this chapter:

What do y’all think of your cursed technique? Imma be honest I have no clue if like technically speaking someone else can have it cause Geto literally just had it and his body is still out and about with it. But I don’t care cause this is fanfic. There is gonna be a notable difference to it that will be revealed later.

But also someone do let me know if I’m forgetting major things about the JJK universe here cause ain’t gonna lie I keep up with the weekly leaks but forget them when the next week comes around.

Does the action make sense? Please let me know! Cause I read this and I know what’s happening but also I know what’s always happening here so like if you don’t get it, then that’s on me.

Also I hate Mei Mei so much. If there are 100 Mei Mei haters, I’m one of them. If there is only one, it’s me. And there are none that means I died. That’s why she’s a bitch here cause she’s also a bitch in the show. You can like her all you want - I’m still gonna hate her.

I hope y’all liked this chapter! Would love to hear your thoughts!

[tmsnetwork]

In case anyone has questions about the BradleyLaura Week themes and what some of the chosen ones mean, we’ve come here to clarify some of them. I do want to remind everyone of something I always have as a rule of thumb: YOU’RE FREE TO INTERPRET ANY THEME AS YOU WISH! So feel free to go wild. Now, without further ado, to the themes.

DAY 1: Fake Dating/Marriage

Characters pretend to be dating or married for some specific reason, which could range from needing to solve a problem, fulfill a condition, or to achieve a particular goal. This trope explores the tension, comedic situations, and romantic development that arises from maintaining this facade, often leading to genuine feelings between the characters involved.

DAY 2: Canon Compliant

These stories adhere closely to the established universe, characters, and events as they are presented in the original work. Fanworks in this category aim to expand upon or delve deeper into the canonical narrative, exploring untold stories, hidden perspectives, or further character development that aligns with what's officially recognized in the source material.

DAY 3: Jealousy

Focuses on the emotion of jealousy within relationships, whether they be romantic, platonic, or somewhere in between. This trope can drive the plot by creating conflict, misunderstandings, or realizations of deeper feelings. It's about how characters navigate and resolve these intense emotions and what it reveals about their relationships.

DAY 4: Domestic

Centers on the everyday lives, routines, and intimate moments of characters living together or spending a lot of time in each other's personal spaces. This trope highlights the comfort, challenges, and humor found in domesticity, offering a closer look at how characters interact in private, mundane settings away from larger conflicts or adventures.

DAY 5: Enemies to Lovers

This trope explores the journey from animosity and conflict to understanding, respect, and romantic love. It's about the development of the relationship between characters who start as adversaries, showcasing their growth, the breakdown of barriers, and how they come to see each other in a new light.

DAY 6: Headcanons

Fics or content based on fans' personal interpretations, beliefs, or theories about characters, relationships, or events that may not be explicitly stated in the source material. These can range from character backstories to hidden motivations, exploring areas not covered or specified by the original work.

DAY 7: Weddings

Revolves around the planning, lead-up to, or the event of a wedding. This trope can explore themes of love, commitment, family dynamics, and the stress and joy of organizing or being a part of such a significant event. Stories might focus on the couple getting married, the perspectives of their friends and family, or the aftermath of the wedding. It can also involve other people's weddings, outside the main ship.

BONUS DAY: Any AU (Alternate Universe)

Fanfics set in alternate universes reimagine characters in different settings, timelines, or realities from their original context. This could include modern AUs, historical settings, fantasy worlds, or completely unique universes with different rules and structures. AUs allow for creative freedom in exploring how characters might interact or develop outside their canonical environment.

[rosekisspeach]

TAROT READING//Mingkey Sexual Attraction - Ming

Date: 5/Feb/2024 Marker: Transparent Umbrella - SHINee Deck of Cards: Trungles' Star Spinner Tarot (Inclusive, Diverse, LGBTQ Theme); The Romance Angels Oracles; Manara Erotic Oracles

Notes Upfront:

I don't ask my cards questions that I already have answers;

I don't prey on information I should not know;

I respect their personal lives and;

This is for FUN ONLY.

In the following sexual attraction readings, be aware everything is "delulu" and I am just saying what I am seeing. Don't read this if you only see them as platonic friends/co-workers. . . . . .

Action: Knight of Wands R, 6 of Coins R, Hermit, 4 of Swords, Moon, Queen of Wands, Wheel of Fate Consciousness: Romantic Feelings, Getting to know each other, Chemistry, Weeding, Let your friends to help R, Make Effort Subconsciousness: Creative Intimacy, Dreams of Repressed Lust, Lure of Easiest Way, Freedom to be Yourself R, Fire of Desire R

~ some notes: Again, happy lunar new year everyone, and hopefully you enjoyed a great valentine's day. I will summarize ming's in one part because his energy is, as always, straight forward. And after the lunar new year celebration (Feb 17), I will do Jinki's view too.

Group 1: Creative Intimacy

“His body was a canvas. It was painted with pleasures, decorated with guilt, and exalted by giggles. His body was a willing canvas, and your love the brush of a masterpiece.”

Doesn't the image says it all? Gifting bum is ming's unique, and creative (don't you wonder what's in his mind when he thinks about gifting bum?) approach to love kibum. We have reversed knight of wands, reversed 8 of coins, and hermit cards in ming's first group actions. These cards outline how much more ming wants to love bum emotionally, financially, and even physically. Minho is always generous, he saved 6w won in the little prince book to buy bum birthday gift when he was barely feeding himself in debut days, and it is no secret how hard to get luxuries like that croissant bag even as a celebrity...in fact, ming would bring a star back if bum dares him. Like a true knight that vows his loyalty. But he can't. He can't buy something that is eventful, a home, a car, or the wedding ring, when he could afford them easily. Ming is not allowed to love bum the way he deeply desired. Romantically. Sexually. Spiritually. The guilt of hurting bum in the past still haunts him, and ming suffers in loneliness like the hermit holding a light who only hopes one day, one day that he will find a way out of this sweet misery.

The money is saved to buy birthday gift for Key.

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Oracle reading of Creative Intimacy:

“Let love create beauty, rather than beauty create love. When the intimacy that came from sincere attraction blossoms, a soul may light up. Warmth and love become a breeze that can shake trees that stood still for an entire life. There will be only light, energies, and bodies. Let love be fun, if it cannot be passionate. Let love be witty, if it cannot be ardent. Let love be tender, if it cannot be overwhelming. Love has many ways. Some are good at the beginning, and more are good farther along the journey. ”

Group 2: Dreams of Repressed Lust

“Winged demons do not sleep, but ominously whisper words of temptation and seduction. They started as dreams and became nightmares. They were desires and turned into terrors I cannot shake away.”

Feelings don't build themselves in one day. How can one's arch enemy turn into their friend, someone trustworthy, loveable, and lust. Lust. Lust. Lust. Ming groans kibum's name when he touches himself, as pleasure building up, sensation burning any rationality left in the shell that is conquered by primitive instincts. It feels so wrong, and so good. The four of swords card and the oracle card in subconsciousness give the exact same energy. Fantasizing kibum in bed...fantasizing himself with kibum in bed is too easy. Ming can always feel kibum because they have known each other and breathed the same air for way too long. They slept together in so many occasions. Ming would know how bum bends his body, spreads his limbs, looks at him with those luring and glassy eyes. He would know what voices bum makes, faces he shows, and lips, lips, bloody lips in red and covered with saliva. Kibum tastes like chocolates that ming wishes for every Christmas. Fucking kibum must feel amazing.

Yet ming can only fantasizes. And they are dreams that's all.

꿈이 아니라고 해줘 너에게로 빠져버린 heart 영혼까지 잠기도록 데려가 줘 너의 waterfall

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Oracle reading of Dreams of Repressed Lust:

“I want to fuck. Is that so hard? To say it aloud, in front of other people? In front of parents, sisters and brothers, strangers and colleagues? It is. It is in-deed. Maybe not so hard to admit to oneself, among dreams and fantasies. But to say it aloud? Like our lust is a shameful secret that doesn't belong to us. Like it's wrong. Like it's despicable. And hear this … like it's strange. After a life lived day after day-denying that we are allowed to be healthy humans, exiling our lust into dark dreams or properly approved intimacies … what will remain of us? ”

!! Avoid the group 3's image if you do not believe in 2heart relationship!!

Group 3: Lure of easiest way

“I found a shortcut. If I buy, someone will sell, and if I sell, someone will buy. I am the trade, the negotiator, and the currency as well. Do you desire a bargain?”

Does ming have other options? Yes. He has options. Too many of them actually. People stay for a night, or two, sometimes even longer that ming thinks maybe this time will be different. Yet deeply ming is a helpless romantic and once he decided, the decision is final. He wants to marry kibum. But why does it sounds so impossible? Or the better question is, why the wedding card dropped in both their readings, yet they find it so hard to express their true feelings in front of the other? There is always an "easier" version of the mingkey story - they date whoever come by and support each other as colleagues, friends, even best man that stands beside the beautiful newlyweds in the wedding. Bum will bring handmade dumplings to ming, and ming will comfort whoever complains about bummie not answering their messages. I find it amusing that woo asks ming to tell bum replying his messages in the radio, when, bum doesn't respond to ming that much much either...things change. Ming now joins the competition and it is not going to be easy. He knows it too well. And He is determined to succeed.

Also, hey, it was never just fan service for ming.

결혼해줄래

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Oracle reading of Lure of the easiest way:

“Why should one beware of the easy way? It promises everything, and it promises it now, with no price whatsoever. Behind every easy road, however, there is a hidden price. The easy way is a seduction by itself. And it's hard to say no. Especially because it promises to be ... well, to be easy. It may be that the easy way-like any shortcut-carries some form of disharmony. It makes everything a trade, where one can use the other just by allowing the other to use them. Still, it is possible to surrender to seduction. A seduction of power, a seduction of youth, a seduction of empty promises. The challenge is that if someone gets used to the easy way, they will find it much harder to leave the easy way behind.”

Group 4: Freedom to be yourself

“I was made into a mannequin. Molded as a prisoner, I fit the standards of someone else's beauty. I feared death, but I refused it. My dignity was paper thin, and yet it was the canvas of my life.”

We have talked about this in ming's personal reading. He is trapped because it is the normality he held on for too long, and is reluctant to ask help from friends. He doesn't really have too many friends to ask questions on this, especially the only one around him (and practically an expert) is who he has a massive crush on. He can't really ask chanmin hyung or jinki either, and this is why minho deeply misses jjong, who always has an answer for him. But ming is exploring, slowly and surly because we know ming isn't someone just gives up. I am also glad that the Queen of wands shows up because this demonstrations ming's will power to "dig to the end of it."

bum's fav bookshop, huh.

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Oracle reading of Freedom to be yourself:

“What can a person live without and still be that person? What is stolen from us may one day be reclaimed. But what we surrender willingly is lost forever. There is only one freedom that we need to truly treasure: the freedom to be ourselves. If we surrender that, our soul will lose the essential spark that can redeem our life and give it meaning. We might dance to an artist's tune of our own free will, but if we are constrained and controlled by another, it is death to the spirit. We cannot be puppets and still be happy.”

Group 5: Fire of Desire R

“I wanted it all. And I wanted it now. I was so young at that time, and I failed to grasp that I was too small to use the word "all." I had first to look at the Universe to understand my real desires. ”

Ming wants it all. The love. The Sex. The hugs, the kisses, the touches, and the pleasure that makes his body shake in euphoria. The urge is fire that burns through his bones and skins and he wants bum to feel just as much. To fuck till their muscles give up and the bedsheet turns into a swap of bodily fluids. He wants bummie. All of it. He also wants bummie to call him his, wants to be perfect for whatever kibum needs him to, to lick over kibum's fingernail and scars and tears just because he could. Ming wants it all and he is going to put all the effort in so he can have it all. It is destined. The upright wheel of fate is a strong sign that no matter how difficult the journey is, ming will overcome and celebrate the beautiful result in the future. And kibum, just like him, surrenders before their sexual attraction.

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Oracle reading of The Fire of Desire:

“What you desire defines the road you are walking and where you are going-your ambitions, dreams, drives. These are part of you, and they can burn strongly, becoming a fire that can light the darkness of life. But no matter how strong that fire may be, it can only brighten a little space around you and make the darkness beyond it thicker and more frightening. You need a different kind of light to make the road safe. Without understanding, dreams and ambitions are like childish tantrums. With understanding, they become something that can be truly reached.”

Minho-ah, just go kiss him.

-over-

find me on Twitter @rosekisspeach

[mahou-furbies]

Closing thoughts on Tokyo Mew Mew New s2

This turned out to be about what I expected, not spectacular but still reasonably enjoyable.

In the end the message feels kind of hollow, like environmental destruction is a real issue and the main solution being that this one teenager says "umm surely we'll figure this out somehow" didn't feel sufficient. But to be fair what else is there than enough people wanting to change things for the better? So I can't really fault the show for its optimistic message, though I don't think Ichigo as a character had enough going for her for that to work. Minto at least was actively working on clean energy solutions, while so much of Ichigo's story was focused on the romance where the environmental themes sometimes felt more like a stepping stone.

When it comes to Minto and Retasu I was very happy with their expanded roles and it's always nice when other characters beside the heroine get to have important unique connections to the theme and the plot. Meanwhile Purin and especially Zakuro felt pretty pointless, I didn't expect much from Purin to begin with but Zakuro getting so little to do was a surprise. On the boys front the most interesting thing to me is still on how much the appreciation for Masaya has grown in the fandom, now everyone is like 30 and just wants a Good Man. He was less interesting to me in this season than in the first one though because I really don't care for the Blue Knight/Deep Blue stuff. Quiche had a decent character arc.

Despite all the complaints I still think the TMM reboot was worthwhile, it felt like it had its heart in the right place and no character was hateable. And there's a severe lack of magical girl shows that aren't toy ads, edgy or parodies, that helps too.

Finally I had some vague memories on the manga ending with a cringe mock wedding for Ichigo and Masaya and I was glad that they left that out from the new anime. Though it loses points for not having a Berry cameo.

[castlebyersafterdark]

you've mentioned you love upbeat pop and 80s tunes... can you speak a little more on what you'd like for musicality in the final season, soundtrack and score?

i personally think that pop culture is missing the sincerity of 90s/2000s film scores like john williams and swelling violins, and if any show could bring back unabashed sincerity (today known as cheesiness because we are still allergic to being genuine instead of ironic somehow) - its ST! the overall themes and story, the 80s ET-esque influences, and they already went there with an orchestral version of eleven's theme in s4. i really want to feel hopeful and uplifted by this story in a way that makes me feel like a kid again, even though edgier endings are seen as cooler. the score has some beautiful classics like the Eulogy motif that played when bob died, when el searched for her mother, and when mike and el broke up lmao

as for soundtrack, people seem to discuss that a lot and im up for almost anything. i think cyndi lauper will return. we know the clash will return too, and seeing as we centre around will i think more alternative and rock might be the way they go instead of mainly the new wave pop classics.

One of the things that made me fall in love with Stranger Things was that it had such a unique, distinctive score. The synths and specific motifs. Super engaging, really different than what a lot of shows were doing. It's always given the show more of a cinematic quality. I'm hoping for more super cool moments like in season 4 - the Journey revamp, Separate Ways?? So good. And listen, as cheesy as it is, I still get chills when I watch the sequence that mixes Running Up that Hill with the Main Theme, like are you kidding?? I was transfixed, hands white knuckling the couch during that whole sequence. The music just took you there, you know?? And that was just the penultimate season, can you imagine what these fucking insane composers are cooking up for the series finale? Whewwww. Because that moment felt like a series ender based on music usage and YET we get 8 more episodes. I'm so excited for the score choices almost as much for the answers to the mysteries and the shipping payoffs. I really really love movie/tv scores. ST has one of the very best. And the influence! You know how many remixes and covers of common songs have been done with synth stuff over the last decade and they're referred to as "Song Name: Stranger Things Mix" despite not having anything to do with the TV show? Her influence. Respect.

One thing that I disagree with the majority on is a reprisal of Heroes - sure, it can return! But I'd really prefer a score track than a song played whenever Byler gets together. More emotional that way. I don't know where it would fit, and I know everyone loves the lyrical connotation of Heroes, but I think this moment deserves something unique. Pinnacle of all the relationships in the show and no I am not exaggerating. Truly.

I have a playlist of potential season 5 song choices! I'll just list some highlights:

Edge of Seventeen - for the Party! When it skips to 1987. Especially for Will. These lyrics are so Will coded they make me insane.

The Breakup Song - This would be so on the nose cheesy fun, but it's a good song, it sets a mood. Mike and El break up and then some danger strike and boom, needle drop.

We need some Judas Priest for Will, since it's 80s, it's rock, and the lead singer is gay!! I never see this mentioned. He came out in the 90s but that would be so cool for future Will to learn that having known this band from his childhood. There's a lot of relevant songs of theirs to use in s5 but even some of the more obvious ones would be cool.

Love is a Battlefield was briefly in s2 but it would be perfect to get a feature in s5.

I honestly love a Billy Idol White Wedding badass moment for Nancy. It just fits her, I think.

I Ran So Far Away for something with Mike, I think this song is very necessary for him.

Only You by Yazoo for the Lucas/Max reunion!! It's so cute and so them.

A friend posted about this before so I'm not the one who came up with this idea, but they predict that Video Killed the Radio Star is going to be featured in promo, using the Radio Station hideout whenever we get the first teaser trailer and I think that's a very possible route. I see the vision so clearly, kinda can't get that out of my head. I think it also ties the 50s/Creel vibes to the present day characters with the radio vs. video imagery for both promotional stuff and the actual show itself.

Listen to Your Heart, Roxette. Again, for Mike. Introspective moments. Figuring out some heavy truths. Facing feelings.

The Man Who Sold the World for Will in some conjunction with his Henry issues. It's evocative, it's dark, it's Bowie, baby! Maybe remixed and slowed and made very creepy.

I don't think Love Will Tear Us Apart by Joy Division has been in the show yet? But, it should.

Self Control - Laura Branigan

Wake Up the Neighborhood - Holland

No One Lives Forever - Oingo Boingo

Running With the Devil - Van Halen

Beds are Burning - Midnight Oil (can be used for a scene to demonstrate the absurdity of going about life, going to school, under military lockdown, end of the world vibes etc.)

Shout - Tears for Fears

Break on Through to the Other Side - The Doors (WillEl moment or something, I've heard some great remixes of this song!)

I'm mad they already used Thriller in the trailer for s2 because I've heard some fantastic synth remixes and the lyrics are soooo perfect for a scene where monsters are running rampant in Hawkins or something. It would be so 80s and I eat that shit up.

Eye in the Sky - Henry inside the minds of the town, tormenting our leads. Make it creepy. Make everything with him fucked up and dark.

If we don't get a really poignant needle drop with the core four Mike Will Dustin Lucas gearing up for battle to Kids in America, what has all this been for???????

PLEASE. Will in a pivotal moment very late in the season with Should I Stay or Should I Go! Seems obvious but worth listing. Some big scene is going down. Then quiet. No score. Then those first few notes cut the silence. Willlllllll. This to me is in the same vein as the lead up to the scene in Endgame when Cap lifts the hammer?? Sorry, haha you can take the boy outta Marvel but...🤣

[electronicgrowth]

Burned

A/N: I have no idea where this fic came from. I wrote it when I was drunk tbh. I may add to it at some point idk. I kinda love the whole dark!Aemond thing. Also, I picked names of Greek origins for my female original characters because Rhea is a Greek name. So, I just kept that theme up. And I played Hermia in Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream in high school, so the name is dear to me. Aemond Targaryen x f!Royce!Targaryen!originalcharacter. 

Summary: Daemon Targaryen’s daughter that he had with Lady Rhea Royce gets caught in the middle of the Dance of Dragons. She doesn’t want to be involved. And she really does not wish to involve Runestone in a petty Targaryen squabble. What happens when Aemond forces her to pick a side? 

WC: 4.8k

Warnings: non-con, rough sex, breeding kink, (a little) biting, absentee father bullshit (thanks Daemon), also incest (cousins) but it’s HOTD so you already know lol

Hermia Targaryen had never considered herself a true Targaryen. She had grown up at Runestone, away from her father, Prince Daemon. She had been born only months before her mother died, or was killed, depending on what you chose to believe. Her mother gifted her with a name better fit to House Royce than House Targaryen. She even had dark curls. The only tell, aside from her Valyrian surname, were her eyes. Hermia had unique eyes. Closest to her iris the eyes had a hazel color, but it melded into a deep purple. The kind of purple that only Valyrian’s had. 

Mia grew up far from the influence of her father. She was raised by other members of House Royce. And while she felt the loss of her mother, she never felt that for her father. She did not attend his second, or third wedding. She had also never met his two most recent children. She met her half-sisters only once, at their mother’s funeral. She had met Daemon’s step children. But that was when they were simply her cousins. She would travel to and from King’s Landing as a child. She would visit her aunt, uncle, and cousins at least once a year. Aegon couldn’t be bothered to pay attention to her until she puberty. Then he paid far too much attention to her. Helaena had always been kind and they shared a kinship as the only girls in the keep, but they were interested by vastly different things. Daeron had always been too little, so she never really got to know him. And Mia found Rhaenyra’s children to be grating and needy. She enjoyed Aemond’s company, despite the fact that he was a rather mercurial child. They had fun together and Mia was a shoulder to cry on whenever his brother or cousins picked on him for not having a dragon. House Royce did not wish to wed Mia to Aegon, such a union would take her away from Runestone for too long. So, Aegon wed Helaena. And Aemond truly believed that he and Mia would one day wed. He would be Lord of Runestone with her. And they would have countless children. It was all he dreamed of. 

But then the visits stopped happening. And Aemond heard tell of a betrothal. A wedding followed closely behind the news of a betrothal. A man from a vassal house of house Royce was to be her husband, House Tollett. The Royce’s had insisted on the union. No man outside of the Vale was considered for Mia’s husband. Despite the fact that she had already been married, she retained her name. She’d had one daughter. But her husband had died in a hunting accident, leaving her a widow at twenty, before the birth of her only child. 

Mia named her baby Eudora. It was a traditional name for house Royce. It also meant ‘excellent gift’. And Dorie was an excellent gift to Mia. The sunshine for all her cloudy days. Dorie had inherited Mia’s dark curls. But was fortunate to have gotten her father’s bright blue eyes. Dorie was everything to Mia. And Mia saw no point in marrying again, she had her heir. All her energies were devoted to ruling Runestone and raising her daughter. Dorie was to take the name Royce upon taking over Runestone. 

At the age of four and twenty, Mia received her first ever letter from her father. The letter was beseeching Hermia to back Princess Rhaenyra as Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. Yet, House Royce had already received a raven from King’s Landing stating that Aegon was king. The letter further explained that the crown had been supplanted from Rhaenyra, and as his daughter, Daemon expected Hermia to offer Runestone’s support of the Queen. 

Mia wrote her father back to simply say that Runestone had no interest in participating in the petty squabbles of the royal family. And she would not subject their resources or their people to a war that truly had nothing to do with them, beyond taxes and whose ass they would have to kiss. Mia thought that was the end of it. And for a while it was. 

Until Mia got news that Prince Lucerys Velaryon was killed at Storm’s End by Prince Aemond Targaryen. The details were vague, but it seemed as if the pair’s dragons were involved. She felt justified in her decision to not get involved with the issue of succession. But then, another raven came from King’s Landing. The Hand of the King was asking that Mia bend the knee to Aegon. She responded in a similar manner as she had to her father. She stated that House Royce wished not to involve itself in the fight. She was not expecting a reaction from the crown. She knew Aegon. She had met him a few times when she went to visit King’s Landing. But she hadn’t been there in over ten years. She barely remembered her cousins. 

It was a cold, cloudy day. Not so cold that snow could be sustained, but cold enough that the air had a bite to it. Mia had taken Dorie out to ride. Both mother and daughter loved the feeling of the wind in their hair and the sting on their cheeks. Hermia had just arrived back at the castle with Dorie. Her cousin, Gerrold, was nervously milling about the barn. 

“Cousin,” she chuckled, “You look nervous. What ever is the matter?” She lifted little Dorie off the saddle as she spoke, setting the child on the ground. 

“My Lady. Prince Aemond is in the hall,” Gerrold said apprehensively, not making eye contact with her. 

“Prince Aemond? Here?” Mia asked, she was confused. When was the last time any member of the royal been to Runestone? And Prince Aemond? He had never even been to the Vale before. Dorie could not read her mother’s change in mood and decided to interrupt her mother’s nervous thoughts.

“Mama,” the little girl began, pulling at her mother’s riding tunic, “may I have some cake for lunch?” Dorie had a mischievous look in her eyes. 

“Darling, it sounds as if mama has some business to attend to, perhaps, Septa Erydice could go with you to eat a proper lunch,” Mia suggested. Dorie pouted up at her mother, but she did not argue. Dorie’s handmaiden met the trio outside the main hall, to take the child to lunch. Mia wished that she had an opportunity to change. But protocol demanded that she meet the prince immediately. Yet she took off her outer clothes to avoid smelling of horse, leaving her in a long, knee-length tunic and slacks. She took a deep breath and pushed the doors open to the hall. The hall was long, stone. The windows were high, so dull light from the cloudy day struggled to light the hall. The torches were nearly always lit. Although, there were three torches that had clearly burnt out. Mia flushed in embarrassment. That would never happen in King’s Landing. Prince Aemond did not turn around. Surely he had heard the door open. But he stayed where he was, gazing up at the stitched House Royce coat of arms that was hung upon the stone wall. All she could see was his long, sleek silver hair and dark clothing. 

“Prince Aemond,” Mia called. Finally, he turned to meet his cousin. Mia was shocked at how handsome the prince had grown to be in the last ten years. He had sharp facial features, and lips that, if they belonged to anyone else, Mia might desire to kiss. He was practically other-worldly beautiful. The only thing that marred his appearance was the scar that ran down his face, and the eyepatch. Souvenirs from the loss of his eye in childhood. Although, Mia thought the scar and eyepatch just added to his mystique. 

“Lady Hermia. How nice of you to finally join me,” Aemond chided, his perfect, pink lips moving into a smirk as he spoke, “And in your riding clothes no less.” 

“I apologize. If I had known you were coming I would have been here to greet you. In a gown, of course,” Mia countered with narrowed eyes. Mia walked forward to stand next Aemond. He stared down at her in amusement, for he was much taller than her now, almost the opposite of the last time they saw one another.

“How can I help you, your grace?” She asked, impatiently, spitting his title at him with disdain. 

“I wish to speak about your response to my brother, King Aegon,” he replied. 

“You will have to be more specific, Your Grace. I am in correspondence with many people.”

“Your response to his demand that you bend the knee.” 

“What of my response?” 

“It was unacceptable.”

“Unacceptable?” Mia laughed, throwing her head back. Aemond looked over her shoulder at Gerrold and other men that had entered the hall behind her. 

“Perhaps, we might speak alone, cousin,” the Prince suggested. Mia exhaled in annoyance, before turning to speak. 

“Leave us,” she commanded her men. Gerrold hesitated. The last time he left a woman of House Royce alone with a Targaryen man, she died. 

“Gerrold, it is fine. Please go.” He nodded at the younger woman before leaving. 

“Speak plainly,” Mia commanded. Without any witnesses she shirked the politeness that should have been reserved for a member of the royal family and adopted the tone of an older cousin chastising a younger cousin.

“King Aegon wishes to know who you declare for.” 

“As I said in my raven, I will not declare for anyone. It is not in the best interest of House Royce to supply either side with our resources or men,” Mia said with a roll of her eyes. 

“You expect us to believe that you will not declare for your father’s wife?” 

“My father,” she laughed bitterly, “I would never declare for that man’s side. He killed my mother. If I were to declare, I would declare for Aegon merely to spite my father. But truly, I do not wish to be involved.” 

“Again,” Aemond explained in a condescending voice, “that is not an acceptable answer. You have to declare one way or another.” 

“No, I do not. I may be a Targaryen in name, but I do not wish to be involved in this family drama.” 

“You may not wish it, but you are a member of this family, my Lady. You must choose.”

“I must? From what I hear House Arryn has declared for Rhaenyra. Should I not follow the lead of our overlords? We are simply a vassal to a bigger house.” Mia countered. 

“Perhaps, it is the fact that you are a member of the family that no one has involved you,” Aemond suggested, “But the Hand of King remembers what your father said about your mother, and the Vale, during the reign of King Viserys. He had no love for your mother or your home. It would be in your best interest to declare for King Aegon.” 

“Oh? And pray tell, what could King Aegon offer me?” 

“Would you not wish for the advancement of House Royce? The King could make your house overlord of the Vale.” 

“I do not wish to supplant House Arryn as the overlord for the Vale.” Aemond chuckled at her response.

“You are a woman. Without a husband. You have only the backing of your own house. Do you truly believe that all the members of this house wish to have a woman leading them? Aegon could reaffirm your position. Help you keep your seat. He could even help your house advance, then who would speak out against you?” Aemond said. 

“I have heard no rumblings of discontent from members of my house. I have served my house to the best of my ability.”

“Then perhaps, I shall offer you safety for yourself and your daughter. I came here on Vhagar, my Lady.” 

“Is that a threat?”

“Perhaps,” Aemond chuckled. 

“Do you threaten every house that does not declare for your brother? Or am I just lucky?” He laughed at the question. 

“I would say you are quite unlucky, my Lady. Where is your daughter right now?” 

Mia’s eyes widened. 

“Excuse me?”

“Your daughter. Eudora, isn’t it? Do you know where she is? She may be with her handmaiden as you bade her. But whose to say I came alone?” Mia turned and was about to run to her daughter’s rooms. 

“Ohh, kēlītsos. Not so fast,” Aemond laughed. He was quick to grab her by her waist, pulling her back into him, her back to his front. He towered over Mia, he had to bend forward to bring his lips to her ear.

“Kēlītsos,” he said again— what did that word even mean?— “You will escape today with your life. But only you and your daughter. This visit was not to negotiate with you, rather to distract you. Your cousin, Robar Royce, wrote to the King with terms of his own. He wishes to be the head of House Royce. He wishes to rid this house of its two Targaryens. And in exchange for supplanting you, House Royce will bend the knee to King Aegon.”

“What use is Runestone to your cause that you are so determined to win our favor, even if it means stripping me of my birthright?” Mia asked as she struggled in Aemond’s arms. 

“It is a foothold in the Vale. So very close to Gulltown. We can take the Vale from the inside,” Aemond had pulled Mia back further into him, arms tightening around her waist, “Robar suggested that we kill you and your daughter, but now I think that I have a better use for you. Lord Borros Baratheon declared for my brother after I offered myself in a marriage pact. But I care not for any of his plain daughters. I offered Lord Borros a fortune to get out of this betrothal. And I’m so glad I did. How better to ensure the loyalty of House Royce than to marry their Lady. To elevate you to a princess would elevate the entire house. Although, once we wed you’ll be a princess so the responsibilities of running the house will be far too involved. So, you would have to release the title of Lady of Runestone to Robar.” 

“No, no,” Mia struggled against Aemond’s grip, “I will not wed again.” 

“Your love for your first husband too great?” Aemond mocked, as he breathed in the scent of her curls. She smelled so sweet. 

“No, my love for my daughter. I am committed to her and my house.”

“Your house would sooner see you and your child dead than continue to have a lady running it. Would you truly die for your house? When it cares so little for you? When you have a child to protect?” Aemond wrestled Mia to the ground. He straddled her hips to pin her down. His hands grabbed hers and stared down at her. Mia’s eyes were wide with fear. 

“Please, you don’t have to do this. I will take Dorie and leave. Or I will bend the knee to Aegon. Whatever you want.” Mia suggested in panic, her legs flailing behind Aemond’s back. 

“I could allow that,” Aemond considered, “However, you are a Targaryen, even if you don’t look like one. And I wish for my children to have Valyrian blood from both of their parents. And if it’s whatever I want, I have something very specific in mind.” Mia was attempting to tug her hands from Aemond’s as he spoke. It was all for naught. Aemond moved and gripped both of Mia’s hands in one of his above her head. His free hand slid to his cloak, he pulled out a blade. Mia froze, her heart beat erratically in her ears. Mia was regretting that she took off her outer wear, as Aemond easily sliced open her tunic. He licked his lips at the sight of her bare chest, before returning the blade to its place under his cloak. His free hand groped at Mia’s breasts, playing with one before the other, making sure to focus on her nipples as he went. His hands were rough, callused from years of sword training. He smelled like smoke and leather. It would almost be comforting, if Mia weren’t so alarmed. Aemond traced her upper body almost in reverence. His hand trailed down her belly to the ratty, old trousers she was wearing. He released her hands, both of his hands went to pull her trousers off. Mia took the opportunity to scratch at Aemond’s face. He hissed in anger, before pinning her hands back down at full force. Four scratch marks raked down his face.

“Careful kēlītsos. I can make this nice for you, if only you submit to me,” he hummed as his nose trailed along her jaw, “Or if you continue to fight me, I can fuck you bloody. It doesn’t matter to me, I’m going to take you either way.” Mia whimpered. “Sagon nykeā sȳz hāedar.” 

“I-I don’t know w-what you’re saying,” Mia admitted in a breathy voice. 

“You don’t speak Valyrian?” 

“No, the masters here don’t know the language. I had no one to teach me.” 

“I’ll have to teach you, then,” Aemond murmured as he reached for the shreds of Mia’s ruined tunic. He quickly tied her wrists together, before Mia could even react to having free hands. With both his hands free, Aemond returned to Mia’s breasts. With one hand he squeezed one breast, but he brought his lips to her other breast. He began suckling gently. It vaguely reminded Mia of breastfeeding, except it felt good. He laved his tongue over her nipple as he worked. Mia unwillingly began to buck her hips, searching for friction. He released the nipple and began sucking a bruise onto the underside of her breast, making eye contact with Mia as he did so. Then Aemond moved his mouth to the other breast, but rather than take her nipple in his mouth, he bit down gently at the top of her breast. And he bit down hard. Mia screamed, shocked by the sudden onset of pain Not only were impressions of his teeth left, but she was bleeding. She whimpered a bit, before Aemond returned his hands to her trousers. He moved so that he sat on his knees between Mia’s thighs. He made quick work of removing the trousers, revealing Mia’s long, supple legs. And leaving Mia totally nude on the rough, cold, stone floor. Aemond’s eyes raked over the figure of the woman in front of him. Her breasts were perky despite already having had a child, her tummy soft, protecting her thick hips. Hips that would give him heirs. She would have no trouble birthing children with hips like hers. And of course, between her legs, was the most perfect cunt Aemond had ever laid eyes on. And she was glistening already. 

“Gevie,” he murmured in reverence. He had been waiting to take Mia since he was twelve years old. Since he lost his eye. Upon seeing the confused look on Mia’s face, he explained, “Beautiful. Gevie means beautiful in high Valyrian. Although beautiful doesn’t begin to describe this body. It’s perfect. These hips were made to bear my sons.” Mia panicked at the final sentence. She wriggled, trying to get away from him. She had no wish to bear his sons. But his grip was far too strong for her. Aemond could no longer contain himself. He leaned forward to press his lips to Mia’s. She didn’t respond as his lips moved against her mouth, until he bit down hard on her lower lip. Hard enough to draw blood. The metallic taste filled her mouth. 

“Kiss me,” he commanded, barely pulling back from her lips, one hand tightening around Mia’s throat. She gasped before throwing her head forward in panic. Trying to comply quickly. Aemond claimed her mouth, moving his tongue against hers. Even with the taste of blood, she tasted so sweet. The hand that was around her throat moved down to rub Mia’s clit. Unintentionally, she began bucking her hips. Aemond smirked into the kiss. She liked this, that much was evident by her little moans. She was so clearly trying to silence any sound she made, trying not to give him the satisfaction. That wouldn’t do. 

Aemond plunged two fingers into Mia. And she let out a surprised squeak. He quickly pumped his fingers in and out of her, his while arm moved with the rapidness of his ministrations. She got wet quickly. 

“By how wet you are, I almost think that you like this, kēlītsos. Kitten,” he explained the Valyrian word before she could even think to ask. 

“No,” she whined, shaking her head quickly. Her long, curly hair was starting to fall from the single braid she’d had it in to ride. Aemond moved to release the remainder of her hair from its tie. Aemond thought she had beautiful curls, he wished to see how wild her hair would look after a long night of taking her, claiming her, filling her. Gods, what would she look like satiated? What would she look like begging for him? What would she look like pregnant? Feeding his son from her breast? The thought alone made him thrust harder into her.

“Oh, you want it,” he responded, her legs were starting to shake. She was close. Aemond pulled his fingers from her heat and she let out a disappointed huff. “Beg for it. Beg for my cock. I know you want it.” Mia trembled. “Come on, sweetie,” he whispered, “Just say ‘please’ and I can make you feel so good.” 

Her resolve broke, “Please Aemond.”

“Please what?” He prodded. 

“Please Aemond, please fuck me,” she begged. 

Finally, Aemond sat up on his knees to remove his own cloak. He was done playing. He pushed his slacks down just enough to release his cock. He was beyond pleased by the surprised look on Mia’s face when she looked down. He knew that he was well-endowed comparatively, but she looked positively shocked. 

“That— that won’t fit,” she gasped. In her shock, Mia inadvertently stroked Aemond’s ego with her comment. 

“Oh, but it will,” Aemond laughed wickedly. He ran his cock along the lips of her pussy, spreading her wetness. 

“Did your Lord Husband have difficulty fitting inside you?” He mocked. 

“No, but—“ Mia cut herself off. Aemond rested the tip of his length against her entrance. 

“But what?” He feigned innocence, but his eyes glowed with mischief. Mia shook her head, she didn’t want to answer, but it didn’t really matter. Aemond knew. 

“Let me guess,” he chuckled, “Your husband was far smaller? I wonder, did your husband ever get you this wet?” Aemond traced one finger along her slit, before bringing the finger up to Mia’s face and showing her all of the wetness he had collected. Mia simply trembled. Aemond slapped her across the face. She let out a shriek. 

“Answer me when I ask you a question,” he commanded, angrily. Mia noted how quickly his mood could change. 

“No. No, he never got me that wet,” she finally admitted. 

“He must have barely touched you then.” 

“He would only kiss me before he went inside me,” she explained. 

“What a pity,” Aemond tutted, “I bet you look beautiful when you cum. Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you enjoy my cock, even if you think you don’t want to.” And with that final sentence he thrust into her. Mia screamed at the intrusion. He didn’t immediately begin to move, but that was to be the only reprieve that Mia was to be granted, because he began to move shortly after. He began to thrust in and out of her in earnest. Tears leaked down her face. The stretch was painful. But underneath all the pain, was a sliver of pleasure.

“Gods, you are so tight,” he moaned. His mouth latched to Mia’s neck where he started to suck numerous bruises. He wanted— no, he needed to mark her. In this moment, Aemond knew that Hermia Targaryen was his. He just needed to show the rest of the world. And her, apparently. 

With steady thrusts the intense pain began to subside, giving way to pleasure only. Without the distraction of pain, Mia had to come to terms with the fact that wetness was leaking onto her thighs and to the stone floor beneath her. She glanced down to where she and Aemond met, and she could see that she wasn’t the only one being coated in her wetness. His cock, his pelvis, even his thighs were wet. He caught her looking down at where they were joined. He was quick to cup the back of her neck, so she would be forced to watch herself take him. 

“Look at how you take me, kēlītsos,” he groaned, “Enjoying yourself so much. Your cunt just keeps pulling me back in. So wet, so tight. I’ve been dreaming about taking you like this since the first day I met you. And by the way you’re taking me makes me think you’ve thought of it too.”  

“No,” she whimpered in response, but it wasn’t convincing at all. The entire hall was filled with the sound of Aemond’s hips meeting her’s and the squelching from her wetness. 

“Oh yes.” His hand reached down to rub gentle circles on her clit. Then Mia’s legs began to shake. Something was happening. There was a tightness in her lower belly. A pleasurable fire. Mia began gasping and moaning, the moans becoming higher pitched each time Aemond bottomed out inside of her. 

“Shit,” she gasped. Aemond simply smiled, his long silver hair sticking to his sweaty neck, but that didn’t stop him from thrusting harder. 

“Ohhh, are you going to cum, sweetie?” He cruelly mocked, “That’s okay. Let go for me.” It wasn’t long before the spasms started. Mia had never felt anything like it. Her legs shook and her insides quivered. She let out the most beautiful sounds as she came around Aemond. His hips faltered as she rode out her orgasm. “Doesn’t that feel so good, sweetie? Only I can give you that.” 

Tears streamed down Mia’s face, she was half crying, half moaning. The pleasure was intense and unbelievable. How could he be making her feel this good? She didn’t want it. But it was so, so good. And that was what made it all so humiliating. She didn’t want to feel good, but she did. What did finding enjoyment in this savage ravishing of her body say about her as a woman? It wasn’t even just that physically it felt good. It was erotic, she didn’t want it to end. He was so handsome. The kind of man she had dreamed about marrying as a little girl. She wanted Aemond Targaryen to fuck her like this everyday of her life. The unfairness of it all made Mia cry harder. Yet, Aemond was still chasing his own release. 

“I’m so close,” he moaned, “Gonna give you my seed. Get you round with my baby. Would you like that kēlītsos?” Mia shook her head rapidly back and forth. “Oh, I think you would love it. And I’m going to make sure I get you with child. This cunt is far too sweet not to thoroughly enjoy. Not to fuck everyday.” 

“Please, Aemond, don’t,” Mia begged. She hadn’t said his name yet. Aemond’s hips stuttered. 

“Say it again,” he commanded. Mia looked up at him, extremely confused. 

“My name. Say my name,” he demanded. She hesitated. “Say it.” 

“Aemond,” it was half a moan and half a plea. 

“Gods, my name sounds so good when it falls from your lips,” he groaned, he was picking up his speed again, hand roughly gripping her hips. His grip would undoubtedly leave bruises. 

“Beg for my cum,” he commanded. Mia sealed her lips tightly shut. Aemond started to punctuate his thrusts sharply, before slapping Mia across the face again.

“Fucking beg for my cum.” He slapped her as he finished that sentence too. 

“Please give me your cum,” she whimpered out, stuck between wanting this to be over and never wanting it to stop. 

“Oh, kēlītsos. I think you can do better than that.” 

“Please Aemond. Please cum inside me. I need you to come inside me,” she begrudgingly moaned. 

“You are mine,” he growled, hips stuttering as he chased his high, “Mine. Mine. Mine.” He groaned and grunted as he finished. His cum flooding Mia’s cunt. Aemond panted, trying to catch his breath, before claiming Mia’s lips. 

“All mine,” he hummed as he pulled out of her. He stared at his cum leaking out of her. His eyes flicked up to her face. Her cheek was red where he’d slapped her. Her lips were swollen where he’d bitten them. Her eyes were watery and rimmed red, this only serves to bring out the purple in them more. She was gorgeous. And now she was his. 

Author’s note:

Sagon nykeā sȳz hāedar= be a good girl