#mostly bride of stuff

[ransiquack]

More sillies :}

[rose-bride-bracket]

sleep...

[pastafossa]

What movies/movie genres do you think Jane would like to watch once she's free to enjoy those type of things?

Oooooh, this is a fun one.

So FIRST OFF, Foggy has been working to take care of her Movie Education. This way she doesn't have to buy anything - not tickets, not blu-rays, not any specific streaming service, no pattern left. Foggy has a shit ton of movies, so he's free to guide her through.

I think she'd probably rule out anything with blatantly sad or bitter endings, or any scifi of a certain flavor. She's had enough of that in her life. But beyond that, I can see her being open to watching a wide variety of stuff, though I think she'd probably lean a little towards either comedy, action, or adventure for genres. Even better when they all mix!

But adventure and action movies tend to end well. They're usually blatantly good versus evil, and good almost always wins out, the bad guys get defeated, and the good guys get to go home happy even if she sometimes complains 'ok but that bad guy doesn't seem all that bad'. Think things like Die Hard, Jumanji, The Mummy. It's cathartic, it's what she wants to happen. It lets her feel excited, as if there's risk, but without the actual danger, and she knows there'll almost always be a good payoff. I could also see her branching into more serious stuff like LOTR, but only as long as it's got a good ending.

Comedy, for obvious reasons, because A. she's snarky af so would enjoy humor, and B. because it's relaxing. She'd probably love Mel Brooks movies, and something like Clue would likely become a regular in her rotation.

Horror she'd treat almost as comedy, because as a person who's spent most of their life learning to dodge, to avoid, to hide, to survive, people having zero sense in horror would make her snicker in a, 'yooooou clueless motherfucker, no one ever checks the closet like i do' as she munched on popcorn.

[ceilidho]

take me home, country road

[ao3]

You have nothing on your person apart from a hastily packed suitcase and the dress you came into town wearing, on the run from trouble back home. Too bad John's missing a bride that matches your description. Or: the 1800s (mistaken) mail order bride au (part 10)

first chapter >> last chapter

-

In the wee hours of the morning, you wake up to a man’s hands tilting your pelvis back. There’s a pillow propping your hips up, your cheek pressed to the mattress and rump high in the air. You must have been sleeping when he turned you over onto your stomach. Maybe you turned over in your sleep and he took advantage of the fact, hooking an arm under you to lift your hips up and stuff the pillow under there.

Either way, he has you right where he wants you. Rough hands spread the cheeks of your backside apart to give him space to lap at your sex from behind. The moment you feel his tongue part your folds and lick a line up the center of you, you panic. Sleep sloughs off you in a single rogue wave that submerges you before you swim your way to the surface, skin tingling and heart frantically beating in your chest.

Your memory of the night before comes back piecemeal, only the soreness between your legs registering at first. You kick back weakly, trying to rip yourself away from the stranger behind you. A desperate, panicked noise tumbles out of you when he doesn’t so much as budge. 

The man pulls away from you just long enough to growl, “Quit fussin’—’s just me,” before giving you a tight smack across your rear. 

You’re awake and present now, jolted forcibly into consciousness. When the sound of John’s voice washes over you, your panic abates. Not a stranger, not a stranger, just your husband. It quells the fear in your belly that threatens to spark off a wave of hysteria. 

Then he runs his tongue up your slit again, his beard chafing the delicate skin of your sex, and you howl into the pillow.

Thick fingers stretch you open until you’re loose enough to take him again. He says as much in your ear before climbing over you and feeding his dick into your cunt. When his hips surge forward, hands braced on your shoulders to hold you in place, you choke on a gasp. He gives you no time to recover. The slow adoration of the evening’s love making is long forgotten, replaced by the mindless rutting of a ravenous man. He woke up with an empty belly.

You can feel his hunger when he bears down over you, holding you in place. The frantic pace of his hips. Hairy chest and belly to the tacky skin of your back. The lurid, wet sound of his flesh smacking against yours, thick cock spearing you open again and again. He bottoms out with every thrust, reaching a depth that feels impossible. All you can do is take it.

“John—” you start, but he reaches around to wrap a hand around your mouth, trapping the rest of your sentence behind his palm. Your cry comes out muffled, incomprehensible. 

“Shh—just let me—” John grunts, trailing off into a groan when your walls squeeze around him. You can’t help it. 

A disgusting thing in you is thrilled that he wants you this badly, that he loses control of his faculties this way. Trades in that veneer of a righteous man for animal lust. A sick deviance that you didn’t know you possessed raises its head and relishes in his need. It makes you cant your hips back to take him better, the new angle making you see stars. 

You find yourself infuriated at being denied the chance to look at him, sweating and panting like a bull, muscled chest rising and falling with his breaths. 

He’s too deep in the fog of exhaustion to say more than a few words. He’s mostly rough grunts behind you, breathing heavy into your neck, his sweaty palm still clamped over your mouth. He keeps it there even when your tongue lolls out and presses against his palm. 

Everything is hot and dark under the cover of night. Frustration builds and builds beneath your skin as you can hear his breath grow labored, your husband on the verge of coming. Unlike a few hours ago when he had you on your back, the root of his cock doesn’t grind against your clit in this position, pulling you back from the edge every time you think you’ll tip over.

He sucks and licks at the skin of your neck, his big palm swallowing up your pathetic mewls. When he fits his teeth into the crook of your neck, pressing down lightly, you give a whole body flinch. Any shame still lingering in you melts right out. 

When he comes, you feel the flood of warmth inside of you. The breath whooshes out of you when John puts his whole weight on top of you, forcing your body down into the mattress. He fucks you through his orgasm, the last few thrusts jostling you in his arms and making you cry out. Like he wants to make sure you take every single drop. 

You lie there panting until he pries his hand off your mouth, stroking up and down your side. For a moment, you almost think he’s going to leave you like that, right on the verge of reaching your peak, unsatisfied. Then, your eyes go wide when he shoves a hand under you and gropes around until his fingers find your pearl, rubbing it until your breathing goes high and hitched, coaxing your orgasm out of you. 

Your orgasm leaves you limp and sated. A mess in your bed. Too exhausted to even think about cleaning up. 

“Thank you, honey,” John mumbles, turning your head with the same hand that just made you come to draw you into a kiss. “Needed that.”

You don’t have the energy to respond, so you just hum instead. You don’t know how long it takes you to fall back asleep, but you lie there panting and twitching until it takes.

The morning has you fluttering around the house all nervously, somehow unsure of yourself. It feels like there’s been a fundamental shift in your marriage, like the house has finally settled in place. The next couple days are much the same. 

John just seems as self-assured as usual, almost smug about it. That drives you a bit wild.

He’s never been shy about touching you, but you hadn’t realized how much he’d been holding back before. It’s like he can hardly bear to take his hands off you now, tugging you into his lap at night during his Bible study, something you follow along half-heartedly, your faith being more of a consequence of birth than anything. His faith is built on stronger foundations. You imagine he could quote verses from memory if pressed. 

In truth, nothing changes in any significant way. All that worrying for naught. John still takes you on trail rides to show you the lay of the land, taking you out so far as to see the herds of bison and wild horses down in the valley. You watch them silently from a distance as they graze, sustaining themselves on wild grasses and forbs. Cloves, daylilies, and milkweed. 

“Where are the bears?” you ask curiously. John snorts.

“I ain’t taking you out to see them, darlin’.”

In the evening after supper, John takes the horses into the stables and you offer to groom them while he sets up targets for shooting practice. He’s been insistent on teaching you how to shoot. It’s another skill that you otherwise might have gone your whole life without learning, but John makes it clear in no uncertain terms that you’ll learn.

Most of your shots are wildly off target, the birds in a nearby tree bursting into flight and taking to the skies when you accidentally shoot into the lower branches. You wince. John just laughs, showing you how to reload your gun.

Just like with learning how to ride a horse, you wake up in pain the following morning, moaning when your husband nudges you awake. He’s familiar enough with the sound of your pleasure to know that this is anything but that.

“Think you’ve earned a week off, bug,” he says, turning you over onto your tummy and massaging your shoulders.

You sigh. “Thank goodness.”

John laughs.

You squirm on the ride into town, muffling a yip when John pinches your thigh. It’s not your fault that the brute has been working you like a draft horse. When you tell him as much, he rolls his eyes.

“Think you can handle being on your own today?” John asks, his eyes locked on yours.

You’d roll your eyes if you didn’t think that would land you with a raw backside by nightfall. Over the last few weeks, he’s indulged your attitude more than a handful of times, relegating his discipline to a few curt words or a quick smack across your rump, but even you aren’t willing to test the limits of his leniency.

“Yes, daddy,” you quip instead. A little lip hasn’t hurt you yet.

You recognize the grave mistake you just made when you see the glint in his eye. “Daddy, huh? That right?”

You stare up at him blankly, struck dumb. “Uh. I didn’t…” The way he says the word makes your mouth go dry, mind empty. A desiccated tumbleweed rolls by in the distance. 

John’s lip curls up into a smile. Your stomach flips at the sight of the hunger receding in his gaze, descending back down into the abyss. “We’ll talk about that when we get home.”

“You’re not leaving me with Kate?” you ask, clearing your throat. A desperate attempt to steer the conversation away from your unfortunate slip up. It’ll be a cold day in hell before John Price lets go of an opportunity to use your own words against you though. 

He must be feeling rather magnanimous though because he holds your gaze for a moment longer before saying, “Not today, m’afraid. She has business out of town for the next few days, so she has someone minding the shop while she’s gone.”

You frown. “She went on her own?”

“‘Course not—Kyle went along with her. Sure she’ll be pleased that you asked though.”

“She’s been nice to me,” you mumble, mollified. A bit embarrassed to be caught worrying about anyone other than yourself.

It’s not entirely unreasonable. You have a hair trigger worry cultivated from the life you’ve lived. The events of the last month have only worsened your disposition to fret. Though Kate carries herself with the quiet confidence of a woman fully capable of taking care of herself, you can’t help the way your stomach aches at the thought of her traveling between towns on her own. That lonely, deserted stretch of road.

“I’m not planning on leaving town today—got no reason to. Figured you might enjoy having a day to look around town on your own, but you just give me a holler if you need me and I’ll come running the second I hear you.”

You understand the bigger picture here. He’s not quite letting go of the reins, but he is loosening his hold on them, giving you some slack. A few weeks ago, you would’ve waited until he rounded the corner and then bolted for the train station, luggage be damned. Even a stage coach would have sufficed. 

You can’t seem to locate that same impulse now. Instead, you find yourself nodding and then leaning up for a parting kiss. You almost feel a bit bereft as you watch John walk off. Almost lonely.

Without someone watching over you, you feel adrift. Lost at sea. It’s concerning to learn how dependent you’ve become on the company of others. Back home, there were stretches of days where your voice would go rusty from lack of use. 

Now you feel strangely unmoored without someone within earshot. 

You’d bet your bottom dollar that John really would come running if you were to shout though. The thought makes your heart flutter. You’re a far cry from the girl that came into town not that long ago. You can’t imagine how she’d feel about the notion—that all you need do is raise your voice above a whisper for the county sheriff to come running.

When you think of the lawmen you used to fear though, John’s face seems incongruous with the image in your head of a grim-faced sheriff chasing after you, rifle and handcuffs in hand. Not that he couldn’t be that man, of course, but it feels like a version of him far removed from the man whose bed you share. 

The John you know stands behind you when he teaches you how to hold a gun and pull it tight into your shoulder. The man you know helps you up onto Buttercup’s saddle and guides you with a hand on your back and stomach to help you find your rhythm. 

You shake the thought from your mind. You spend enough time around the man—you don’t need him occupying your every thought as well.

You take your midmorning coffee at the inn, catching up with the woman you met on your first day in town. The innkeeper gives you a perfunctory greeting upon your arrival before settling behind the front desk to tally up the week’s earnings and review the ledger. His wire-rim glasses slip down his nose whenever he has to bend down to better read his own notes. His wife notices as well, tisking at the tenth offense in as many minutes. 

The coffee grounds are visible at the bottom of your cup when you see yourself out. 

It occurs to you as you make your way around town that you know practically every person you pass by. Perhaps not intimately, but enough that you can hardly pass one of the buildings without someone stopping you to say hello. You bounce a baby in your lap at the bank, eat a slice of cake at the restaurant with the owner, and even stop in for a spot of tea at the courthouse when the circuit judge sees you pass by on your way to the library.

The camaraderie is disconcerting. You’ve gone the bulk of your life invisible, for all intents and purposes, and the attention you garner through your affiliation with John has you on edge. It’s not entirely unpleasant, but it gets under your skin after a while. Perhaps it is unpleasant. 

Your feelings are, as always, complicated. Knotted.

A former scullery maid could not hope for a better improvement to her life, but isn’t it unfortunate that it took someone else for the world to see your worth? You could resent them for it, all of them. But it’s pleasant to be sought after, lovely to share a conversation that doesn’t end in a command. How could you begrudge John for giving you that?

The library is quiet when you arrive. A simple two-room building situated close to the town church. An older woman fusses over you when you walk in, fetching you a cup of tea before showing you to a comfortable place to sit. 

“Were you looking for anything in particular, dear?” she asks after handing you a floral print cup with a dainty little handle meant for no more than two fingers. 

“Well actually,” you start, worrying at your lip with your teeth. “I was wondering if you might have anything…instructive.”

She blinks. “Instructive?”

“Yes, um…” You abruptly recall the story that John had concocted about your former life as a school teacher. The desire to reveal to this woman that you cannot, in fact, read suddenly stills on your tongue. “Poetry maybe?” The request comes out feebly. 

She brightens, however. “Of course. I should have some Dickinson, if you’ll give me a moment.”

You thank her when she returns with a book that has clearly just been dusted off, streaks of grime still present on the cover, but when you crack it open, all you can do is stare at the words on the page hopelessly. While a few you recognize as words you’ve heard read aloud or seen on signs or on the front page of the newspaper, you can’t make heads or tails of the rest. All you can do is pretend to read, flipping the page every couple of minutes when the librarian happens to glance over at you.

Now is the moment of your discontent. It’s not long before you get up and tell her that you have to be on your way, thanking her profusely for her hospitality. You leave disgruntled though, upset that you hadn’t considered the implications of John’s story. Another fabrication catching up to you. It leaves you feeling restless, no choice but to wander aimlessly through town.

Despite knowing most of their faces and names, you feel indescribably lonely. 

Your wandering leads you to the general store, where inside Kate’s replacement stands behind the counter and smiles politely when you come in. You contemplate turning right back around at first, but there are still plenty of hours left in the day and your plan to spend the afternoon in the library practicing your words is now in shambles, completely upending your schedule. You could return to the inn to practice your needlework with the innkeeper’s wife, but you don’t want to overstay your welcome. 

You sigh. Perhaps tomorrow you’ll be able to convince John to let you stay home alone. There’s plenty you can do around the house. 

If Kate were minding the store, you would’ve pulled up a chair, but instead you duck towards the back of the store to peruse the aisles in peace. The majority of the shopwares line the walls around the store—buggy whips, horse tack, lanterns, pails, and various farm tools—but the few standing shelves at the back of the store hold a variety of foodstuff that you’ve never seen before. Canned goods and spices, dried food and tins of ground coffee. 

Had you thought to check the pantry earlier, you might’ve been tempted to purchase something. You still have a half-full coinpurse in the pocket of your dress. It’s not as though you’re penniless.

You chew on your lip. You will, at some point, need to broach the topic with John if you don’t anticipate leaving for a while. You might as well have some spare change on hand.

The bell above the door chimes when someone else walks in, cutting off your train of thought.

At first, you pay them no mind. Tucked away behind the aisle as you are, there’s no chance of them seeing you. No reason for you to peek your head around and say hello. The floorboards creak under the weight of their boots with every step as they approach the counter. The sound of their footsteps has an interesting cadence, almost an arrogant swagger; you can tell that it’s a man. You can hear Kate’s replacement greet them. 

The spurs on his boots jingle with each step.

Curiosity nips at you, but you stay rooted in place, fighting the urge to get up on your tiptoes to look over the top of the shelf. Your stomach churns though. Despite not a single word spoken, the atmosphere in the store feels tense.

“Pardon me,” the newcomer finally says, his voice a molasses-thick drawl, almost sticking to the roof of his mouth. It’s not a voice you’ve ever heard before. “I’m wonderin’ if you might be able to help me with somethin’, seein’ as how I just got into town.”

“However I can, sir. What do you need help with?” the shopkeep asks.

You hear the man take something out of his pocket and then unfold it, the paper crinkling when he spreads it out across the counter. “Name’s Graves. I’m lookin’ for a girl and wonderin’ if she mighta passed through town. I’ve got a warrant to bring her back east on account of a murder charge.”

Every inch of your body goes cold.

[bandomfandombeyond]

listen, I know I'm late, I just need to know, am I being christ-rolled by black veil brides or is the mourning some sort of punk irony "opposite day" metaphor thing going over my head

[seresinhangmanjake]

Main Masterlist

Tag List or follow @seresinhangmanjake-library

The Harkonnen's Sweet Thing: Part 1, Part 2 - (Atreides!Reader) You watched your brother kill the man you love--a man you were once gifted to by the Baron--and now that he is gone, you think Paul will use you as a political pawn in his war. And you're right. But you're shocked to discover who is demanding to have you.

What Comes at Night: You have nightmares of Feyd's death and he's there to comfort you. *can be read alone* Mark of Luck: You give Feyd your mark of luck before he enters the arena. *can be read alone* Overprotective: Your son is due to be born any day now and Feyd is very protective. He kills anyone who so much as lays a finger on you, but it’s gotten out of control. *can be read alone* The Harkonnen's Loves: Feyd gives his four-year old son his first blade. (Mostly sweet family stuff)

Respect: Your betrothed is a son from one of the Great Houses, an awful man who has enjoyed threatening and scaring you since you were children. Feyd makes it known he doesn't appreciate such disrespectful treatment of the woman he loves.

Do You Love?: Feyd is soft for his wife and only wants to know if she loves him. His wife just wants him to come home.

He Will Hope: Feyd is obsessed with his bride from the moment he sees her, but on their wedding night he finds out she might not feel the same. (Angst, but hopeful ending) *also serves as a very early prequel to Do You Love?*

His: You used to be a Lady, a daughter of a Great House until Feyd took you. Since then, your sole purpose has been to warm his bed, but when Rabban asks about having you for himself, Feyd makes a choice that changes your future.

Forever His: Post-marriage stuff His and Yours: Coming soon Prequel Fics: Becoming His: Feyd chooses you as his concubine. Don't Touch What's His: Feyd's harpies attack you while you're both asleep in his bed and he gets real mad. Only His: A diplomat from Caladan wants to borrow Feyd's concubine. He doesn't like that very much.

Fremen Girl: The potential wife of any future Baron must prove herself by surviving in the arena before the current Baron will permit the marriage. In this case, Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen wants a wife, and he might have just found a woman capable of meeting that challenge.

Part 2

Feyd x reader on her period: Feyd doesn’t like anyone keeping him from his wife’s side, especially when she’s in pain.

[derinthescarletpescatarian]

hey! I'm pretty new to your stories: currently reading curse words and loving it! (I started the first book with the mindset that I wouldn't be caught enough to miss some real life stuff because of reading... guess what, I missed some real life stuff reading.)

but now I have a question: the books have a pretty intricate plot with a lot of good payoffs for small things. which is very cool from a reader's point of view, but from the writer's one— can you maybe share some stuff about your process? especially in the early stages, how do you go from the initial spark of an idea and what this is about to a fully formed plot? would be cool if you're willing to share

anyway have a great day I'm off to start the third book hehe!

One thing to know about me is that I have just the worst possible imagination. Absolute pisspoor garbage imagination, nothing going on up there. When I want to plot, my process is simple:

Find a problem, then solve it.

Curse Words was born of several disparate story ideas coming together, but mostly I wanted to play with the magic system -- I wanted to write a story where spells were metaphysical parasites that possessed mages, and each mage could only cast their unique spell. The whole thing came about when reading The Princess Bride, specifically the chapter where Buttercup dreams of being a perfect baby and the doctor looking her over and regretfully informing her parents that she was born with mo heart -- I was possessed with this powerful impression of a slightly wacky doctor peering over the top of his rose tinted glasses to inform a pair of parents that their baby had a curse trapped in her heart. From there, it's find the problem, solve the problem.

I wanted to separate Kayden from his family and put him in an unfamiliar environment for the story so that he and the audience would be on a pretty similar level re: world information; isolated magic and a magic school is the easy way to do that. Okay, so why is this school isolated? Why is the curse thing not common knowledge? Why do the public fear curses and have such limited access to magic that it's not a part of Kayden's day-to-day, if it's so useful? Solve the problem; look at the economy. The unique nature of spells makes them difficult to scale up, and the unpredictable nature makes them inferior to technological solutions to problems in most large-scale issues. What does this say about how the Industrial Revolution would've affected the usefulness, and therefore the public perception, of magic? The logical conclusion is the Purity Revolution.

This school is gathering and teaching all these students; why? I wanted a clear division between witches like Kayden and a privileged elite that formed most of the school body; why are they different, how are the elite kids here, why are witches accepted and integrated into the student body? Solve the problem; look at the economy, the politics. Where are these rich kids getting their magic? Why pull in witches? One question answers the other. Why didn't Kayden and Kylie know that curses were spells in advance? Seems something that should be common knowledge. Look at the politics; tie that in. Logical conclusion: magic trap. We have this magic lake with a monster in it that we introduced super early for dramatic purposes and haven't explained yet. What can we do with that? Let's invent empowered water. Let's look at what that means for the creation of potions worldwide. Let's tie in the management of unmanageable spells. Let's elaborate on the structure our magic trap.

Now we have a channel of power. Curses parasitise witches; some are blessings, some are more trouble than they're worth. The school collects curses, domesticates them, makes them more useful, locks away or renders harmless that which it cannot make use of. More curses are collected over time, the school grows and grows and Refujeyo becomes stronger and stronger as they control more of the world's magic supply, but every system has a capacity. What's the effect of this infinite growth? Here we have a clear and unavoidable economic metaphor, so obvious that not centreing the story on this concept would basically be dishonest. Who's managing this collection, what does it say about the power of the school within mage society? How would such a school relate to the rest of Refujeyo; how would Refujeyo, collecting power like this, relate to and be viewed by other magical traditions, and by nonmagical society? Run through the reasoning, solve the problem.

Why would the school only approach Kayden as a teenager, after his curse caused problems? Surely the school would want to collect as many curses as if could as early as possible. There has to be a reason why they waited. This is a good one because it flows directly from the complex political relationships between Refujeyo and commonfolk politics that have to exist, AND ties neatly into critical character motivations that have to exist for book 1's main twist to function (notably, Malas Aksoy's actions). Sort this out for book 1 and accidentally create a critical political point for the rest of the entire series.

I started writing book 1 with the idea of the court case and subsequent twist about Kayden's curse being the big mystery, but Kayden still needs something to actually do at school. We have this mage who we threw in to rescue Kayden and Kylie from the lake, and had Max hero worship her for flavour; she seems to be becoming central to a lot of interactions for some reason. A lot of dramatic stuff is therefore automatically happening in her presence, but why is this incredibly accomplished and intelligent mage fucking up so much? We've established her as careful and thorough. We need a reason for all these accidents beyond random chance. Someone's sabotaging her -- why? Let's look at our established characters and figure out who has means and motive, and who the most fun red herrings would be.

How could a place like Refujeyo, such a complex and time-consuming project that would have to involve the cooperation of so very many mages, even get built? How would it survive long enough to be powerful? When and where did this happen? We've already established the Purity Revolution; maybe there was something more coordinated than just random undirected economic forces. We've established some incredibly powerful mage families and the old system of apprenticeship and inheritance; we know that the most powerful family in Refujeyo used to have a prophecy and owned a very powerful place that helps prophecies specifically. They could coordinate something, given enough motivation and the help of enough other powerful mages. What kind of motivation? Let's go back to the Purity Revolution. If tech develops alongside magic without central oversight of some kind, what could magic enhance? What problems could be foreseen that would make this kind of investment worth it? How does Refujeyo save the world?

Tie this into our power channel. Refujeyo's attempt to save the world endangers the world due to infinite growth and power being passively collected by those who benefit from the dangerous status quo. It fits our economy metaphor, because they're essentially the same thing, just putting in magic instead of money as a means of power.

Find a problem, then solve it.

The important thing with this method is to keep your solutions cohesive. If you come up with a new different reason for every thing, your plot will look scattered and disorganised. We don't want to look like we're just pulling the story out of our arse. I mean, we are pulling the story out of our arse, that's what writing fiction is, but it's a big part of our job to help our audience suspend their disbelief on that. Whenever possible, you should look for answers that solve multiple things and weave disparate parts of the story together; this is especially true when they relate to the core plot or central theme of your story.

Also, leave gaps for reader inference. You don't have to answer every single question, you just need to make sure that some plausible answer exists for every single question. Sometimes this involves saying less, not more, and letting the audience figure it out.

[monsterfuckerconfessions]

I'm a mimic enjoyer through and through, here to spread the word.

That said.

Rejoice, adventurers, for it is mimic mating season !

Mimics whether they reproduce asexually or sexually often need living lures during mating season, and what a luck to become a lure !

Mimics often keep a prey alive as a way to lure in more preys, as they need more nutrients as to produce a progeny. It is not uncommon for mating mimics to simply swallow an adventurer only to keep them alive as a lure once their clothes and equipments are dissolved.

Most living lures are often fastened to one of the mimic's tongue or sexual apendage, acting like an angler's fish light as to draw in more prey. The lucky adventurer who is kept as a lure gets to be throughoutly spread and used by the mimic, mostly as a way to draw in horny adventurers or helping hands with their moans. But most of the time the lure is far too drunk with sex to even process it's function. Anonymous Adventurers who survived as a mimic's lure describe the experience as "pure bliss", saying they enjoyed being "fucked ass to mouth like a cocksleeve" or "having their cervix spread like a glove around a giant's hand" during the entire maying season.

Living lures are also used by mating mimics to attract partners if they reproduce sexually, as their pheromones mixed with the mimic's are a potent aphrodisiac for potential partners. But since the lure is usually tightly fastened to the mimic's reproductive organ through one of their holes it is not uncommon for observers to find multiple mimics mating through the body of a living lure or mating through their respective lures.

It is also a commom occurence, wether the mimic reproduces sexually or asexually, for the mimic to stuff it's egg, or eggs, inside of it's lure before letting it go, as a way to spread the specie and it's genes. Although mimic birth from humanoid subjects are relatively undocumented because of the dangerous nature of a mimic offspring. It is unknown if the mimic child eats it's human host or simply keeps it as a living lure as well. Fortunately mimic eggs can be disposed of before they reach maturity.

When multiple mimics mate through one lure, it is not uncommon for said lure to be kept as a seedbed by the now bonded pack of mimics. Which is why seasoned adventurers recommend to not fight sexually reproducing mimics during their mating season.

Futhermore, while most mimic that reproduce asexually often let go of their lures once the mating season is done, the mimics that sexually reproduce have an habit of keeping their lures for the entirety of their life cycle, during which they stay fastened to the mimic and usually keep being used as a distraction or lure by the mimic, even after the end of mating season. This behavior has been compared to the way giant spiders can sometimes keep "pets" bound in their web, "pets" through which they reproduce as well or use as a way to raise their youngs.

For the unlucky ones, the mimic can eat them as a way to regain energy after mating, but one anonymous reanimated adventurer still says it is still "worth it." Immortality amulets or reanimation statues (multiple uses not single, mimics are playfull like cats when it comes to food) are recommended.

There also has been rumors of mimics who bonded with their lures, a phenomenon referred to as "mimic brides" but not enough proofs are available as of now. The fate of the brides is thought to be similar to the one of the seedbed although with a singular mimic, whether it be asexually or sexually reproducing one.

This mimic mating season, if you want to keep out of trouble, avoid moaning objects and moaning adventurers in the dungeon !

.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for calling my brother a control freak?

My (24M) brother, L (31M), got married to a great woman last week (S, 34F). They had this big wedding where I was one of the groomspeople (it was a very gender weird wedding, the groomspeople and bridespeople were of any gender). This whole AITA is mostly in relation to me, L, and the man of honor (bride's best friend), M (22M).

I had heard a lot about M from S and that he was a pretty fun guy. I did not expect him to be off the wall hot. Literally the definition of tall dark and handsome. Someone should have kept me in the loop about this.

Anyway, we had been working on setting up the wedding together and getting to know each other, and it was pretty clear he was flirting with me, and I was more than happy to flirt back.

Though when it was time for the wedding and rehearsal dinner, he was barely talking to me. At the reception I asked him why he was avoiding me, and he seemed reluctant to tell me but then said that L had asked him not to talk to me. I pretty much told him "well, L can fuck off," and left the reception with his number and a promise for a date next week, seeing as we live in the same city.

I didn't wanna start shit at the wedding so yesterday I texted L and asked him why he told M not to talk to me.

Turns out that M has a reputation as, to put it plainly, a bit of a slut. He tends to sleep around a lot and doesn't manage to keep a partner for more than a few months. L told me that he didn't want me to get my heart broken by someone who only wanted me for sex, seeing as I'm not into casual hookups or short-term stuff (I have told him this in the past, he's not just guessing).

I told him that I'm not a child anymore, he's acting like a control freak, and that I can be friends with, date, or fuck who I want. He never responded but a few hours later S texted me and said I upset him.

M made no indication that he wanted this to be something fleeting. He seemed genuinely interested in me and I was genuinely interested in him. But I feel like I might be the asshole because L practically raised me since my dad sucks shit and it only makes sense that he'd be protective of me.

AITA for snapping?

What are these acronyms?

[princeloww]

DAVID TENNANT ROLES STARTERPACK

(Different roles, where to find them and what they're like!!!) (+ more that I didn't go into included at the end)

*disclaimer: this is sort of UK orientated, 'cos I don't know any American streaming services or where stuff is available in other countries, so PLEASE comment other places you can watch things!!!!

- Takin' Over the Asylum (CAMPBELL BAIN)

Follows a DJ and a group of patients trying to keep a radio station going in a mental hospital. David plays one of the main characters, Campbell Bain, a mostly upbeat and energetic young boy with lots of enthusiasm and spirit. Some angst!

☆ YOUTUBE (free)

- Blackpool (PETER CARLISLE)

A body is found in an arcade run by Ripley Holden, and him and his entire family are pulled into the murder investigation surrounding it. DI Peter Carlisle is working on the case, and highly suspicious of Ripley. He's a pretty major character and has a romantic plot - as well as a few funny musical numbers. Includes sex scenes.

☆ UKTV PLAY (free in UK), AMAZON PRIME VIDEO

- Casanova (GIACOMO CASANOVA)

The (mostly sexual) adventures of Giacomo Casanova, a charming and fraudulent man who falls in love very quickly and very dramatically with a lot of people, all while essentially bullshitting through life and jumping on every opportunity to make money. Includes sex scenes but also angst, such as illness, injuries, some violence, and general suffering.

☆ MYFLIXERX.TO (free), AMAZON

- Recovery (ALAN HAMILTON)

A man and his family coping with the recovery and rehabilitation process after he (Alan, David Tennant) suffers from brain damage. Angsty. Lots of crying, suicide references, head injury stuff.

☆ YOUTUBE (free)

- Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire (BARTY CROUCH JR)

I recommend pirating this one so you're not supporting JK Rowling. DT plays Barty Crouch JR, an antagonist and the son of Barty Crouch. He's kind of a minor character, as he's not actually in a lot of scenes.

☆ Probably on most pirating sites (my go to is MYFLIXERX.TO)

- Learners (CHRISTOPHER ??)

Lighthearted movie about a woman trying to pass her driving test. David plays Chris, her driving instructor. He's a bit of a dork, very sweet and kind. Has a love plot, briefly fights a guy. No major angst.

☆ YOUTUBE (free)

- Hamlet (HAMLET)

Hamlet. Prince of Denmark wants vengeance after his father's death. I haven't actually watched this one yet but I assume it's got the same amount of angst and drama as Hamlet typically does.

☆ AMAZON PRIME VIDEO

- Single Father (DAVE TYLER)

After a fatal car accident, Dave Tyler (DT) is left to parent four children on his own. Still struggling through grief, Dave falls in love again and attempts to hide it. Has LOTS of crying, lots of kissing, sex scenes, DT being miserable and sobbing, etc.

☆ MYFLIXERX.TO (free)

- Rex Is Not Your Lawyer (REX ALEXANDER)

Unaired pilot. Only 40 minutes. Show wasn't picked up, but it is very good. Rex is a successful and skilled lawyer who is forced to stop practising when he starts having panic attacks every time he speaks in court. He decides instead to coach people who want to represent themselves. Lots of DT in very tight suits. American accent. Not MAJOR angst but he does has daddy issues and a panic disorder, so.

☆ YOUTUBE (free)

- Fright Night (PETER VINCENT)

A kid discovers that his neighbour is a vampire, and he seeks out a famous vampire slayer to help him. Peter Vincent (DT) does not live up to his name, and turns out to actually be sort of pathetic. No major angst, not a lot of clothes, no romance, but lots of eyeliner. He's very bisexual. Violence, vampire horror, creepy neighbour.

☆ DISNEY+, AMAZON PRIME

- The Decoy Bride (JAMES ARBER)

Celebrity Lara Tyler tries to get married to her author fiancé James Arber, but the paparazzi interrupts the wedding. Desperate to keep it private, she takes James to the island that he based his book on. Somehow, the paparazzi still find them, and they hire a decoy bride to pretend to be Lara. Romance, kissing, light hearted, minimal angst. David in a funny outfit. Fake dating trope?

☆ AMAZON PRIME

- Nativity 2: Danger in the Manger (Donald and Roderick Peterson)

Sequel to Nativity, but you don't need to watch the first one. Primary school teacher Donald Peterson (DT) is forced to take his class to Wales to participate in A Song For Christmas, a festive singing competition. Here he is put against his twin brother, who is a successful composer and with whom he has a strained relationship. Light angst - lots of daddy issues, but generally sweet.

☆ AMAZON, I think its on NOW TV???

- The Escape Artist (WILL BURTON)

A defence lawyer, Will Burton, gets a murderer off free, and very quickly grows to regret it, when his client comes after his family next. Lots of murder. Like three murders I think. Hot lawyer DT.

☆ AMAZON (I can't believe I forgot this one)

- What We Did On Our Holiday (DOUG MCLEOD)

A family go to Scotland for their grandfather's 70th birthday. Doug (DT) and his wife (Rosamund Pike) are getting a divorce, but are hiding it from the rest of the family. Movie is mostly focused on the kids and their grandad, but David has a few moments, and he's generally present throughout. Funny, slightly shocking at times, family film. No major angst. Character death.

☆ AMAZON PRIME

- Richard II (RICHARD II)

Shakespeare's Richard II. David plays the titular character, the extravagant, heartless and cold King of England, Richard II. We see his fall from grace as he is stripped of everything he owns and knows. Quite angsty. Long hair, androgynous David. Queer kiss scene (although they are cousins, soo...)

☆ you can find a link in a REDDIT comment if you search for it, AMAZON PRIME

- Broadchurch (ALEC HARDY)

An eleven-year-old boy is murdered in a small town, sending shock-waves through the community. Story follows both the family and communities response to the crime, as well as the investigation done by DI Alec Hardy (DT) and DS Ellie Miller (Olivia Coleman). Lots of angst from Alec. He is sick and hiding it. Injury, dizziness, panic attacks, that sort of thing - as well as a heart attack. He has a lot of trauma and daddy issues. Season three touches on topics of rape (warning).

- Mad To Be Normal (RD LIANG)

Biopic about RD Liang, a Scottish psychiatrist. Sex, misogyny, mental health topics, some self-harm (done by another character)

☆ AMAZON (sensing a pattern)

- Good Omens (CROWLEY)

An angel (Michael Sheen) and a demon work together to stop the end of the world. Queer romance (canon), some angst. Drama, comedy, LGBTQ+. David plays Crowley, the demon (who "sauntered vaguely downwards" rather than fell from heaven)

☆ AMAZON PRIME

- Staged (DAVID TENNANT)

A COVID lockdown comedy about David Tennant and Michael Sheen talking via Zoom during the lockdown. Actually quite sad at times? Mostly silly, though. Features Georgia Tennant and Anna Lundberg.

☆ BBC Iplayer (UK) (or VPN)

- Around The World in 80 Days (PHILEAS FOGG)

Phileas Fogg, a quiet and reserved man, decides to travel around the world in 80 days, after he receives an anonymous postcard calling him a coward. Cute found family, drama, angst (ex-lover stuff, internalised cowardice, illness, near death experience), some violence. There's a scene where Phileas gets flogged (whipped, essentially) quite violently, and it's somewhat graphic. Touches on themes of racism. Phileas is 100% neurodivergent.

☆ BBC Iplayer (UK) (or VPN)

- Inside Man (HARRY WATLING)

DT plays a vicar, Harry, who is involved in a murder after trying to protect his son - who was accused of having CP. Suicide themes, murder, self-harm - explores the idea that any person can murder, if they're pushed the right way. Includes topics to do with CP and pedophilia.

☆ NETFLIX, AMAZON

- Litvinenko (LITVINENKO)

Biopic about Alexander Litvinenko. A group of detectives investigate the poisoning of Litvinenko. David is bald in this show. (Scary)

☆ ITVX (UK) (or VPN)

- Doctor who (10TH AND 14TH DOCTORS)

Do I need to explain Doctor Who???? David Tennant plays the tenth and fourteenth regenerations of The Doctor, a Time Lord from outerspace. He travels around in the TARDIS with human companions.

☆ BBC Iplayer (UK)

I think I'm gonna leave it there, but there are a LOT that I have not touched on. This post is a very accurate and long list of everything on DT's filmography, so i recommend you check that out.

Other things I didn't mention (off the top of my head):

There She Goes, Bad Samaritan, Einstein and Eddington, Rab. C Nesbitt, Bright Young Things, LA Without a Map, Much Ado About Nothing, Duck Patrol, True Love, Gracepoint, Camping (US), Nan's Christmas Carol, Mary Queen of Scots, (You, Me and Him), Secret Smile, Deadwater Fell, Jessica Jones, Dramarama, Spies of Warsaw, AND A LOT MORE. (+ voice acting roles, and also his narrating work on Spy In The Wild (2017)

[tossawary]

I saw a musical recently where the main character was a writer of these fairy-tale-esque gothic romance adventures, so there was a clear-cut Hero and a Villain and a Damsel in Distress and a Wicked Witch character and so on. Very recognizable archetypes. These imaginary characters would come onstage and act out these adventures when the main character was reading her writing aloud to others.

Unfortunately, this musical was ultimately not good for many reasons, one of which being that the stories that the main character wrote had essentially nothing to do with the rest of the story. These overdramatic and cliché adventures didn't really reflect her real life in a deep and meaningful and interesting way, not effectively, and mostly just came off as silly; they seemed to mostly represent the writer character's inexperience and immaturity more than anything else; and I personally thought that the aesthetic frankly gelled weirdly against the setting of the "real life" segments. It was like two completely separate musicals were trying to happen in alternating segments.

But one REALLY cute thing that this show did is make these imaginary fairy tale characters into the stagehands. The Hero and the Villain and the Damsel were the ones who hurried onstage to move furniture around to indicate a change of location. They would briefly test out the furniture or adjust the props to their liking or interact silently with each other in other ways, before scurrying away or shooing each other off the stage again as the "real" characters walked in. I think the Villain character even lingered once to wink at the main character's mean aunt, before getting dragged offstage by the other imaginary story characters.

It was so cute and fun and made scene changes a bright spot in between terrible music and badly paced "real life" plot. Theatre allows for thin lines between "realities", there are lots of great fourth wall interactions in theatre for example, so in-universe imaginary characters as the stagehands for some really fun meta stuff in a different play. I keep thinking of Roderick Townley's "The Great Good Thing" which was read to me back in elementary school, but anything that has in-universe stories being told like "The Princess Bride" film could work. I hope to see more creative scene changes like that in future stageplays that really work with them.

[melancholymetropolis]

Exchange pt. II

plot: In which Gojo makes a late night phone call to his wife.

pairings: Clan Leader!Gojo Saturo x Lawyer!Reader

genre(s): Second Chance; Hurt with Comfort

warnings: unedited (mostly). This is the fluffiest fluff I have written in the while. TEASING. Gojo is a comedian. SWEARING. use of AAVE (y/n is black as hell. wears a bonnet and everything). longing. Argument (no name calling). RAISED VOICES. sad boi gojo. guilty reader. get ready for the feels.

song association: Don't by Bryson Tiller

a/n: ya girl has some good news!

w.c: 3.0k

part(s): Part I

Upon shutting off the apartment’s showerhead, I could hear my phone buzzing in the distance. I wrapped my towel around my body and took swift strides back to the bedroom. Lifting my glasses off my nightstand, I placed them on my face before picking up the device. Instead of it being a friend from overseas, not understanding the time difference, it was an idiot who understood it very well. 

Gojo: pssss

Gojo: wifey. . .

Gojo: are you up??????

Y/N: It’s almost midnight. What could you possibly want?

Several moments after the message was sent, the phone started to ring. 

Gojo was calling.

I rolled my eyes at the sentiment. Ever since our lunch several days before, the taller gentleman was borderline clingy. He texted me at any free moment of the day, asking me what I was doing and when I was free for our next hangout session. I’d always blow him off. Telling him I had a prior engagement with someone else. I would say that the bride needed me to help her with Honeymoon stuff or the Maid of Honor misplaced her work and I needed to help her look for it. I would use any and every excuse in order to avoid speaking to him for longer than I needed to. It was clear that Gojo intended to make up for lost time while I was in Japan. He took his proposal to hang out very seriously and wanted me to fulfill my end of the bargain. Part of me almost felt bad from blowing him. Gojo was mostly harmless in his delivery and didn’t pose any real threat to my lifestyle. He seemed to be very forgiving with my excuses and never pressed me for blowing him off. The only thing he ever did was send almost a dozen crying emojis and claim I was abandoning our child. Apparently we were having a little girl, which he named her Naomi. 

Even though the white haired man was beyond ridiculous, he never failed to make me laugh.

I reached toward the nightstand for my wireless earbuds and connected them to the device. I placed one in my right ear and accepted the call. 

“Sweetheart!!!” Gojo whined on the other line. “What took you so long to answer the phone? I could’ve died on the other line!”

“But are you dead?” I replied, rising from my seat on the bed.

“That’s not the point!” He exclaimed. “And besides, what are you doing right now anyway?”

I walked over to the vanity mirror and lifted my leg on the low bench. I twisted the lid from the cocoa butter and scooped some in my hands. “Well, I just got out of the shower and have started my skincare routine. Why?” I warmed the cream between my palms and started to glide it down my leg.

“How do you feel about going on a food run?”

“Right now?” I scooped more product into my palm.

“Yup!”

I switched legs and massaged the butter into my skin. The guilt of blowing him off was eating away at my being. Gojo seemed to be making a genuine effort to get to know me and I was shutting him off. I was never usually the person to deny someone’s efforts and often cheered for a job done well. As much as I wanted to treat him like everyone else, I realized I couldn’t; because he wasn’t like anyone else. He was my husband, at least on paper. From what I could tell, he was pretty kind and patient with me, despite his idiotic tendencies. Those feelings from Vegas started to reappear once again. They always came back harder the longer I shoved them down. 

I started to rub the butter on my arms. “Let me guess, you’re having pregnancy cravings? Want me to buy you some pickles and ice cream?”

“I was thinking more along the lines of katsu sandos,” he admitted with a chuckle. “But ice cream sounds nice. Hold the pickles.”

I shook my head with a smile. “Okay, pregnant lady. If I do this, you better not expect anything from me to get dressed up for you. It’s too late for that.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“You are getting yoga pants and a goddamned sweatshirt. Better be lucky I am not wearing my bonnet outside.”

“Damn, you aren’t?” He pretended to sound shocked. “Now I gotta take mine off and fix my baby hairs.”

Explosive laughter erupted from my being and I felt myself hold onto the vanity to steady myself. “Gojo, what the hell do you know about baby hairs?”

“I know enough,” he conceded. “I am trying to do all my research now, so Naomi can have all the flyest hairstyles on the playground.”

“Gojo, get the hell off my phone with this mess,” I giggled. “You are too much.”

“I am just enough for you, baby. Don’t you forget it.”

I rolled my eyes and shook my head. “I’ll text you the address to my apartment. Hurry your ass up before I change my mind.”

“Okay. Love you, boo!”

“Imma beat your ass.”

My eyes flickered to Gojo’s right hand. It rested on the arm rest between us and started to flex repeatedly. The silence between us was comfortable. It cuddled against our awkward bodies and almost became a second skin. This was the first time we were truly alone together in the past six months. There were no waiters asking for our order or any wandering eyes gazing upon us from the wedding party. It was simply just him and I; in a car, driving to god knows where, in the middle of the night. There was so much that could be said in that moment. So much I wanted to say, but I couldn’t bring myself to. I wasn’t ready and I had the feeling he felt the same way. It was easy to mask emotions in a crowd. It was easy to tell a joke to break tension and get a laugh out of company. Yet, it was extremely hard to be open with anyone you deemed dear. His eyes flickered over to me with such longing it made my heart ache. Those feelings from Vegas were flickering up once again and I tried to ignore them. 

“I didn’t know you wore glasses,” he said with a smirk. “You look like a completely different person.”

I nervously readjusted the thick frames on my face. “In a good way or a bad way?”

“In a sexy way,” he answered, earning a scuff out of me. “I feel like this would be a bad time to mention I have a glasses kink.”

Laughter bubbled out of me and I found myself shaking my head. “You are unbelievable.”

“I am being so serious right now. Those glasses are doing things to me,” his eyes flickered over to me. “You are seducing with those thick frames and I am trying my best to behave.”

“Oh god, please stop,” I giggled. “How can I be seducing you in some leggings and a sweatshirt?”

“Baby, you could be wearing a plastic bag and I would rip that thing off with my teeth,” he replied with a wide smile. “You are gorgeous, sweetheart, and I will remind you of that every chance I get.”

My eyes flickered down to his lone right hand on the arm rest. The palm was soft pink and wide. There were callouses across pads of the fingers, almost like he played some sort of stringed instrument. Before I could stop myself, I felt my hand fall into his grasp. Electric sparks pulsed through my body as we touched. His grip on my hand tightened and his thumb rubbed against my knuckles. He pulled my hand gently to his lips and gave my fingers a kiss. A sweet smile fell on my lips at the embrace. My mind easing to a calm that wasn't there before. 

Unlike any other union I had prior, Gojo didn't give me butterflies or bring a blush to my cheeks. He gave me a sense of ease that no one else had presented. In all my other relationships before him, platonic or romantic, someone had always wanted something from me. I had to fit a mold to solidify our relationship. I had to be the perfect daughter for my parents. The unpaid therapist for my friends. The forgiving partner to my ex lover. The cut throat divorce lawyer. I always had to fulfill a label and my personhood was seen as a performance to them. I was never simply Y/N. I could never truly exist amongst them. 

That had been before I met Gojo.

He seemed to like me as I am. Actually, he encouraged me to authentically express myself. He didn't take it personally when I snapped at him. He was offended when I was coarse with him at the wedding, he simply adjusted his approach. Instead of being so direct, he became playful. Non-threatening. He was slowly making me feel comfortable around him. Easing the thick tension between us. The fear that I originally felt in the beginning had clouded my judgment. I couldn’t think clearly. 

Sure, being married to a stranger is scary. There is a lot that could go wrong. However, if all had gone right in Vegas, and if we didn't live in two completely different countries, we'd probably be dating already. Gojo would have most likely met my friends. Spent a night at my condo. Made me breakfast the night after our sleepover. He probably would have invited me to his place the next weekend. 

We'd already been 6 months in a sickly sweet relationship. 

Would I have loved him by now?

“What's that look?” His husky voice cut through my thoughts like a knife. “I don't like that look. What's wrong, sweetheart?”

“Nothing, I just…” I trailed off, turning away from his gaze. “Just thinking is all.”

He hummed, unamused, and squeezed my hand again. “You don’t have to hide your thoughts from me, Y/N. I am a big boy, I can handle the heat.” Gojo kissed my fingers again. “And besides, in order to get through it, we have to talk about it.”

A shaky sigh slipped from my lips and I wiggled my hand from his grasp. I wrapped both arms around myself and turned my body away from him. My eyes quirked at the twinkling street lights and billboards of Osaka. My skin was bathed in a crimson light that directly reflected the internal wound that bled into my foul mood. There was a war happening within my head and I could barely present him with the cause of it. At least, not the true cause. There were so many things that I wanted to say, secrets that I wanted to tell him. However, I knew it was too soon. He was still a stranger. A man that I met a little more than a few times in the last couple of months. A friend of a friend— an acquaintance. It would be too easy for him to leave me if he knew the truth. The whole truth. It was the thing that made me leave my hometown and start over. The thing that made me cut my parents off and change my name. The thing that I shoved so far down that I ripped me apart when it reopened. 

The car came to an eased halt and pulled into an empty space in front of the restaurant. The open sign was flickering on and off, a marketing ploy. It wanted to draw people in to observe its beautiful open concept kitchen and glorious display of fresh ingredients. The tactic must’ve been a successful one, since the place was nearly packed at half past midnight. By the smile on their faces, I know the passengers were more than happy with their purchase. It made me want to try it.

A warm hand gripped my knee and gave it a firm squeeze. I felt my body tense from the pressure. I slowly turned to face the car’s driver. There was a noticeable frown situated on his face and a terrible look of worry situated between his brows. My silence had not made him happy. Not one bit.

His hand slipped into mine and he brought his knuckles to mouth for a kiss. 

“Whatever you need to say or ask, I am right here,” he said quietly. “I will remain here for as long as you need me to be. You’ll always have my support.”

His bright blue eyes were poured into me; like hot water in a teacup. He was moments away from drinking me in. 

A releasing a trembling sigh, I finally asked the question that had been on my mind since our lunch date.

“Why do you want me to remain your wife if our marriage was a mistake?”

At that moment, I watched his eyes dim. Their bright, exhilarating, electric blue faded to a gloomy navy that shook me to my core. Pain contorted his features into an expression I didn’t recognize. He had never expected those words to come out of mouth. Not after all the time we spent together. Not after the pact we made to at least “hang out”. Not after I made the first step to ignite an embrace just moments before. Reaching out for his hand had broken the stalemate between us. We were no longer adults navigating unknown territory, who were scared of the word “marriage”. It symbolized the potential for something else. It made room for something new to blossom between us. The beginnings of a new love story were on the horizon, at least before I called our union a “mistake”. 

The painful look was still on his face when he spoke moments later. 

“Our marriage is not a mistake,” he said just above a whisper. “Accidental, yes. It is no mistake.”

I waited a moment for him to explain.

“Mistake insinuates regret for said action; whereas an accident is an unlikely outcome. It has far less of a negative connotation than a goddamn “mistake”.”

He spat out the word like it was poison. His voice gradually rose with each word until it reached its normal volume. The pain on his face had shifted to a soft look of anger. He looked insulted that I would even use that word to describe our union. Utterly appalled that I would think he’d regret our marriage. 

“I just. . .” He cut himself off, ripping his gaze from my face. “Do you really think I would want to hang out with you if I thought this marriage was a mistake?”

“Well. . . no”

“Do you think I'm some conservative wannabe that frowns upon divorce?” His eyes fell back on me, anger causing his brows to lower. “That I am trying to trap you and keep you hidden away from prying eyes?”

“Of course not!” I conceded. 

“Then, what is it?” He snapped. “Because I’m really trying here. I get that this situation is not ideal for you, but I am trying my best to make it work, Y/N. It just seems like you don’t even care about me or what we had during that weekend in Vegas. You are so ready to give it up and leave everything behind. Leave me behind. Like everyone else.”

The last three words were quieter than a whisper. Somber and true. It made my heart ache and my mind buzz with worry. The little pieces that Gojo Saturo fed me about his life started to all make sense. He was the only child and the first in his whole generation to achieve a very specific goal. Power. What that power was— I had no idea. He didn’t go into detail, but I knew it was something he wore with pride. However, I knew that he wore it with regret as well. There was a weight on his shoulders that only he could carry. It seemed as though he was carrying the responsibilities of his whole family with him everywhere he went. He never had a break with his duties; they consumed his every waking moment. It made it hard for him to mingle, to date, to llsimply exist without a group of people breathing down his neck. The relationships he had made outside of his family never lasted, from what I could gather from his last sentiment. They stole too much of his attention for him to create anything meaningful with them. Just like a flower lacking water, the relationships would wither and eventually die; which left Saturo back at square one. Alone. Miserable. Unhappy.

A deep sigh erupted from his being as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that. That was not okay and completely unlcalled for. Please forgive me, sweetheart.”

Without much of second thought, I found myself unbuckling my seatbelt and leaning toward him in my seat. My long arms encased around his slumped form and held him tightly. I felt his body immediately tense underneath my embrace. His limbs were stiff and unmoving, while his breath remained caught in his throat. He was not breathing. I squeezed him even tighter, forcing him to take a deep breath from the constraint. His body melted in my arms moments later. He pivoted his body towards the passenger seat and wiggled his arms from his side. Gojo raised the muscular limbs and engulfed me in what I could only describe as a bear hung. He held me as though I were meant to disappear at any given moment. As if someone would steal me away from this. From him. At that moment, I felt like I meant everything to him. As if I were his entire world. It made my soul weep. 

A series of buzzing erupted from the glove compartment. A message flashed on the car's dashboard:

Order: 2333

Ready for pick up! Come to the takeout window with this text message.

"Your phone is buzzing," I said, lowering my head back to his shoulder.

He hummed in response.

"Our order is ready."

Gojo's arms wrapped around me tighter. "Can we. . . Can we stay like this? Just a little bit longer?"

I felt my body melt into his touch. "Of course."

-------

a/n: ya bitch got into grad school! which is why i haven't been posting!!! trying to figure out the financial aid situation, but it looks like we are going back to school in the fall! also, please please please tell me if you are feeling this series. i have another one in mind, but i am on the fence. also, let me know if you would like to be on the official taglist for this series!

-------

TAGLIST

@amajikisupremacy @sweetdreams-inumimi @reagan707 @wannabeotaku @hazzelle-kento @rav3nmuse

[dangerouslyknown]

Hi hello!!!

Could I request hcs for Admirals with fem!s/o who is very small compared to them? Like she is 5'0?

HCs: Admirals having a fem!S/O much smaller compared to them

Thanks for the request! I am slowly getting back into writing again, so my apologies if I am a bit rusty.

Warnings: None

Borsalino / Kizaru

I have a feeling that your height doesn’t matter to him…. You’re taller? He’s delighted (and a bit amazed). You’re shorter? He’s delighted. You’re around the same height? He’s delighted. But! He can’t deny that he finds your short height adorable.

He’s overall a gentle lover, but… Sometimes he tends to forget that you are much more fragile than him. He would never hurt you on purpose, but sometimes he gets a bit carried away.

He will apologize with lots of affection, like hugs and kisses though!

This man loooves to pick you up in his arms a lot as well. Your weight doesn’t matter either, he just loves to hold you close to him like you’re his bride...

..and he might not say this to you directly, but he absolutely loves to hear when you compliment his strength while he holds you. Then he'll just act all smug about it-

Borsalino being how he is, he would definitely tease you a bit about your height. He’d occasionally just comment on it out of nowhere or do something to get your attention. Like he’d take your hand and place it on his and point out the size difference.

Sakazuki / Akainu

He isn’t the biggest fan of the huge height difference. He does prefer someone more close to his height. He had some concerns, but all the pros and you as a person made him forget the height difference. With time, he learned to “accept” it as he claims, but honestly…

In all truth, he loves how your small size makes him feel. Next to you, he feels more masculine and better about himself. He feels large and muscular. It just makes him so damn proud and boosts his ego and this man is all for it. 

Actually, call him your knight or something. He’d claim it’s childish for you to call him that but he secretly likes it a lot.

 He likes having you sit on his lap. He enjoys the closeness and it’s great you fit onto his lap so easily due to your size so it can be done almost everywhere. There’s also something he especially loves  and it’s when you sit on his thigh. But that’s mostly on a more private setting.

It goes without saying that he’s there to help you reach places, but he likes to watch you get creative when trying to reach the high-up cabinets and such. He adores seeing your dedication to the task.

Kuzan / Aokiji

I think he has a preference for shorter women, so your height isn’t a problem at all. Like Borsalino, he isn’t too worried about anything, but he’s a bit more aware and actively worries more about accidentally hurting you. Eventually he relaxes though.

He adores you and thinks you’re sooo cute when you look up to his face from your height. Or do pretty much anything, he can’t help it. 

He is a very caring man, but sometimes it might get a little annoying when he finds almost everything you do cute. He’s too lazy to fight or argue, so he’ll just be there and silently think how you’re pretty cute when you’re angry.

And there’s something that he loves to no limits. When he sees you wearing his shirts or other clothes. The way you look in his clothes, how oversized they are, there’s just… something in that sight, that gets to him. And he loves the way his shirts smell like you after you've wore them.

He loves to keep his hands on your head, stroke your hair and all that stuff when you’re near him. He might even rest his arm on you as you’re so short, but only to get a reaction out of you and then smile at you afterwards and apologize.

Issho / Fujitora

He wouldn’t necessarily mind the big height difference and you being smaller, but he would almost freak out about hurting you by accident. He’d make extra effort to be super gentle with you.

He would be the most protective out of all of these 4 and he would literally help you with anything you ever ask for. He doesn’t tease you about your height, but he might worry sometimes a little bit too much.

He was very cautious the first time you cuddled for example. He was afraid to hug you tightly, because he wasn’t sure if he'd be able to control all his strength.

Once he is comfortable though, you can expect lots of hugs from him. By the way, he gives such excellent, comforting hugs!

Eventually he calms down with his concerns, but he will never NOT put effort to treat you gently like a flower in his hands.

I know for sure he loves to just gently caress your face with his fingers and appreciate you. He also loves to just cup your face with his hands and hold it. It makes his heart melt every time he does this.

[romana-after-dark]

Room's on Fire: Pilot

Dark!Santiago Garcia x Fem!Reader Dark!Francisco Morales x Fem!Reader Dark!William Miller x Fem!Reader Dark!Benjamin Miller x Fem!Reader

Also: FishBen, and an assortment of other M/M relationships (no Millercest). Everyone is Bisexual

Series Masterlist: Main Masterlist : MainTaglist

Spotify playlist

Summery: The Delta is a commune in the middle of nowhere established by Santiago's mother. Since Divine Mother's passing in a rebellion a decade ago, Santiago, known as The Pope, and his half-God brethren Francisco, Benjamin and William have ran the commune. Now it is time for them to take a collective bride to breed, to bring the savior into the world.

Warnings and Content:

DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

DUB CON MOSTLY but there WILL BE NON CON. Major character deaths, forced breeding, physical abuse, brainwashing, manipulation, violence, gore, alcoholism/addiction, BIG OLE BLASPHEMY WARNING like this cult appropriates a lot of religious themes and they call reader their Madonna, Santi is called the Pope, like all that stuff. However, this is a cult so I mean. It happens. None of it are my thoughts on religion or meant to make fun of religion or demonize religious people. Disgusting views on virginity. Attempted rape outside the boys. T*m warning. Age gap. Creepy terrible men. Non-reader rape, dub con, violence.

This is not meant to be a statement about religion, Christianity, or Catholicism, this is simply my take on a cult. I am a religious person. I understand that some of this may be very offensive to religious people so if you don't like thing like AHS Asylum or Black Mass, maybe consider not reading.

"Come on home, girl, he said with a smile You don't have to love me yet, let's get high awhile But try to understand, try to understand Try, try, try to understand That I'm a magic man." ~Magic Man, Heart.

"God dammit Benjamin, what the hell is wrong with you!”

Will smacked Ben upside the head as Frankie chided him.

Ben tried to defend himself. “Hey! You guys act like you don’t sleep with ‘em too, why are you blaming me?”

“You’re fucking a new woman every goddamn week, you have no fucking class, we’re not even supposed to be sleeping with these women,-”

Santiago’s voice, strong and comanding, broke through the bickering. “Gentlemen, please, this is not becoming behavior for Gods.”

With their leader’s command, the other three settled down, Frankie’s eyes casting away. “Sorry, Pope.”

Pushing himself off from the wall he had been leaning against, Santiago walked toward the group. “That can’t be all the options. There’s no way Benny’s made his way through every of age virgin in our compound, we have over 5 thousand people here.”

The men thought through the women they knew, the various families at the massive compound who could accomplish their task. She couldn’t just be a virgin, that was the thing.

They needed their Madonna.

Before her death, Santiago’s mother informed their group that the prophecy would not be fulfilled through Santiago, that he was not the promised savior. Instead, he was destined to lead after her passing and that Santiago, Francisco, William and Benjamin were all demi-Gods. This was a step up for the Millers and Francisco, who had spend their youths in the privileged position of foster brothers to Santiago and living under The Divine Mother’s roof and direct guidance. To Santiago, however, this was a humiliating demotion.

His childhood was never one of whimsy, growing up told that he was a God, that he was the second coming, that he was the savior of the broken, the beaten and the damned… All that changed in his pre-teens. Suddenly, his mother was less pleased with him. His divinity was constantly dangled above his head. When his 20’s came and he failed to be what his mother wanted, she stripped him of his full God-hood.

So why, pray tell, were him and his fellow leaders and brethren searching for a virgin? Since Santiago had failed, they needed to father a new child. A new savior. Divine Mother’s instructions were clear; they were all to wed and breed a virgin from their compound. She was to live in their home as their wife for them to use not only whenever they wanted, but whenever they could. A sacred duty to be fruitful and multiple. It didn’t matter whose child grew in her, as long as there was a child. The world would be saved, and Santiago would earn his mothers favor from the heavens.

So, she couldn’t just be anyone. She needed to be a virgin, pure and holy. She needed to be beautiful, strong, faithful to their ways, faithful to the Divine Mother, faithful to the Pope, William, Benjamin, and Francisco.

“What about Marcus’s kid?’ Will asked, breaking their silence, causing everyone to turn to him.

Frank frowned. “You think the daughter of a traitor is the best option for the Madonna?” The sarcasm was clear. He didn’t like this plan as it was. He didn’t want strangers in their home, breaching security, putting his brothers at risk.

“That might actually be the solution to the problem.” He waited until Pope gestured for him to go on, not immediately shutting it down.

“The rebellion was when she was 12, the interrogations found she had no knowledge of her father’s plans. Ever since, she has been isolated. Lydia says she has caused no problems in the women’s home, been obedient but has no friends, no connections.”

“So you think she’s intact?”

“Santi, I doubt she’d had her first kiss.”

Since the rebellion 10 years ago, Will has set up measures to identify problems before they become something like that, and that meant keeping tabs on people. Single women lived in a few group homes throughout the compound. Each home had prefects that reported to house mothers, and house mothers that reported to Will. Anyone that was of any concern, Will checked in on, that included daughters of rebels.

“And she danced at the fire?” Pope asked, arms still crossed but listening.

Will nodded. “She did. No signs of disloyalty.”

Muttering, Frankie asked Ben if he’d slept with her in recent years.

He shook his head. “Nope. Forgot she existed.”

Frankie watched as Pope thought things through, his mouth shifting.  Frankie asked, “How are the other viable women going to take it if the daughter of a traitor is chosen above them?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Ben said, defensive of Pope. His loyalty to Santiago went above everything. “If she’s the right person, she’s chosen divinely.”

Santiago held up a hand, stopping another argument. “A redemption. She has the option to purify herself from the sins of her father through the pain of childbirth.”

“Biblical precedent…” Will murmured in agreement.

“And if she fails to produce a child, then we can say we were deceived-”

“Like Eve deceived Adam. Damn, Pope, I think it’s a winner.”

Santiago smiled at his fellow leader, clasping his hands together. “Alright, let’s go visit her, make sure she’s suitable.”

*

You were dead. It was over. Lydia had cleared all the other women out of the dormitory room and told you that the Pope and the other divine leaders would be coming to speak privately to you and you assumed that you had slipped up somehow and it was the end for you. You didn’t know what you possibly could have done. You never ever spoke badly about anyone, none the less your beloved leaders! You adored them all, worshipped them as they deserved, as you had Divine Mother…

Had they decided you were too much of a liability after what your father had done? How was that possible, it had been a decade… why now…

You gasp. Fransisco… he was clairvoyant… had he seen into your dream? Had he seen what you saw oh-so often, the dreams that forced you awake crying?

You prepared yourself to grovel, to beg for mercy, to plead that these dreams of fire were not what you wanted, that they tormented you. Would you forever be labeled a traitor for what your father had done? Hadn’t you proved your loyalty to The Delta?

The door opened and you dropped to your knees, silent until spoken too. You can hear Benjamin whisper a damn. The floor creaks in front of where you knelt, arms prostrated out and for a moment, everything stood still. Warm hands were on your chin, guiding you up to see him.

He was so much more stunning up close. You’d heard tales from other girls of the men, of the way they bedded them, how it was glorious, the most holy form of worship to allow them inside you… You had taken note that you had not been allowed that honor, you had accepted it as the punishment for the sins of your birth, you never thought you’d be worthy of close contact, but right now… Pope was touching your face, your chin tucked between his thumb and forefinger; his eyes were so close to yours, his plump lips keep a soft smile. “Do not be afraid, darling girl. If we are correct, you may outshine us all.”

*

“But it is, of course, your choice.”

Your choice…

This phrase was preceded by the reminder that if you said no, there would be no savior.

There was no choice.

“I am a servant to my lords.”

Santiago smiled at that. “Excellent. Now, let’s begin the inspection.”

The what?

“Oh… is it… I swear I am a virgin, I’ve never been touched-”

“I know.” Francisco said. Oh, right. Clairvoyant. “We need to make sure you’re… healthy.”

“Oh. Yes, of course then.”

Francisco undressed you, his calm demeanor and soothing touch eased you as he slowly stripped you of your clothing. He pulled the loose shirt over your body as you raised your hands, the pail bra underneath had a lot of coverage (everything was meant to be practical) but you still felt exposed.

“Just down to her underwear, Francisco.” Will instructed as he watched. Will was a healer, that was his gift.

Francisco pulled down your pants slowly, and you feel eyes scaling you.

“Strip her down fully, Frank.” Ben tells Francisco, and you jolt when you feel his hands on the bare skin on your hips.

Francisco sighs, but Will puts his foot down. “She doesn’t need to be naked, this is invasive enough as it is”

Ben gave a short laugh. “More invasive than fucking her.”

“BEN!” All three of them shouted, discomfort and fears coursing through your body.

“Pope, she’s shaking.” Francisco asserts with his hands on your shoulders and you watch Pope give Ben a look.

“You behave, your brother knows what he’s doing.” He turns to Will, jerking his head at you. “Handle it.”

Will approaches you, his hands on your face. He holds you different than Pope, more firm, more all-encompassing. Will’s hands were larger, and he placed them at the side of your head, like he was holding you together. “Hey, it’s alright. It’s like a medical examination, okay?”

You nod within his grasp. “Okay.”

He smiled at you. “Good girl. I’m going to touch you, just stand there and take it. Trust me.”

You did. You’d follow him anywhere if he spoke like that. His hands move down your neck, slowly over your shoulders and down your arms, sending a chill through your body. He squeezed your hands. “Doing so good princess. Gonna check your backside now, can you straighten up for me?” You square your shoulders as he walks around, towering over you. You lock eyes with Ben; he looks hungry, like he’s ready to pounce but smiling at you with his boyish charm you can’t help wonder what that pounce would feel like. Ben had slept with almost every girl in your dormitory, and you’d been privy to all kinds of colorful descriptions as you overheard girls talking. Not to you. Never to you.

Will rubbed his hands together and breathed on them to aid the warmth before placing his fingertips at the top-most part of your back. Slowly, he dragged 8 fingers down, applying pressure, sending a tingling down your spine as his fingers traced it. “Excellent posture, just need to check a few things.” His hands went back up, fingers bracing at your sides as his thumbs searched certain spots, rubbing over aching parts of you with pressure, but not pain.

“Got a few knots.” Will comment’s, and you turn slight back towards him, suddenly scared.

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No, no. Nothing to worry about. Just means you’re stressed. It hurt there sometimes?”

He continued massaging you, your next words coming out with a moan. “Yeah.”

“I know it does, sweet girl. Don’t you worry, I’ll help you take care of that. You will be my wife, after all.”

The thought brings a small smile to your face. The smile falters when his hands wrap around your front, William’s body pressed up against your back. His hands are pressing into your stomach, making their way up until he cups your breast, a small groan escaping his mouth that had somehow found its way into your hair.

“She likes that.” You here Ben say, drawing your attention, his grin made you swell with pride. You’d spoken with him before; Benjamin knew all the women. Still, he never chose you to bed and you had thought you weren’t appealing but now, now you see it. Now, as Ben began to touch himself over his pants as he watched his brother examine your body, you realize you were meant for a higher purpose. You were being saved, protected, put on a pedestal for this moment, to be the mother of their child, to be their Madonna.

Will continued him ministrations, soft grunts as he ground his hips into your ass. You can se his eyes are locked in with Pope. Pope, is watching the scene with hooded eyes and parted lips. With a soft but powerful moan, Will stilled behind you, panting a soft kiss on your neck before his fingertips trails your panty line. “Now, for the vaginal exam.”

All the pleasure you felt stops, your body freezing up again. “B-but, you said I wouldn’t-”

William turned you around to face him. “I have to check out your privates, gotta make sure you’re safe. It’s just me, it’s just external, don’t worry. We’ll face away.” He knelt down.

You were acutely aware your ass was still out for the other men when you heard Ben groan when your underwear is pulled down, the distinct sound of him summoning Francisco, who had been quiet so far, and the unzipping of pants.

“Goddamn…” He says, notching your legs so they spread and lifting one foot so it is resting on his bent knee. He touched your sensitive skin. “Pope, you gotta see this… the girls wet.”

“But-” I wanted to protest that he had said it would only be him, but there was no point. Soon, you’d be married, and they be able to have you as much as they wanted.

“Holy shit, she’s dripping…” Pope marvels as the slick running down your thighs.

Will continues prodding at you, fingers running through your glistening folds. In the background was a sound you couldn’t quiet pinpoint, and something that sounded like kissing, but who would be kissing? There was only Ben and Francisco there. Will dips his finger slightly inside your hole, making you gasp.

“Careful.” Pope warned. “She needs to stay intact.”

“I know.” Will groans. “But she’s so fucking tight, Pope.”

A muffled but strong groan behind you, and Pope looks like he’s about to fall apart when he pulls away.

“William, Franisco, Ben. Go to Lydia, tell her the wedding will be at her next ovulation.”

The men reluctantly made their exit leaving Pope alone in the room with you. He pulled up your underwear and pants before helping you back into your shirt. “You are perfect.” He grabbed your face again, pinching your chin and guiding you to look up at him. “Pack only personal items. You’ll have new clothing, everything will be taken care of. From now on, as long as you are what we need you to be, whatever you need, you’ll have.”

He leans in and you open your mouth to him, beautifully alluring, gifting him your first kiss and the spark was ignited. He was everything now.

“My Madonna.”

WE'RE LIVE! So excited to do this, I was a little too excited, I didn't wait until january like i said lol. After this I'm gonna try and finish Blessed be the Fruit and Awakening before going forward which shouldnt be long

PLEEAASEEEE LMK YOU'RE THOTS AND THEORIES!!!!

Special thanks to my BELOVED @hon3yboy for encouraging me so fucking hard with this series!!! she is so wonderful and has written great work including WEREWOLF MARC SPECTOR!!!!

How to keep up with the story!

Comment on this masterlist that you want to be tagged and I'll tag you in updates (If you ask to be tagged, I ask you at least like the fic. Likes dont do anything to spread the work, but it at least lets me know you're still reading.)

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TAGLIST:

@hon3yboy @winniethewife @femmeanonymelives @yorksgirl @pockcock @neverwheremoonchild @casa-boiardi @meveispunk @survivingandenduring @criticalarchitecture @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @obscurexsorrows @hellfire-state-of-mind @christinamadsen @pimosworld @princessanglophile @rubyfruitjungle @simple-lovebot @missdictatorme @campingwiththecharmings @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @javier-penas-wifexx420 @stefani-topaz @alwaysmicado

if I missed you LMK!!!!

[hurts2think]

Hook × morgie- it's saddening how little of them their is in this world :(

🏴‍☠️Young!James Hook x Morgie Le Fay Dating Headcanons🐍

Pairing: Morgie Le Fay x Young!James Hook

Plot: Just dating headcanons of them getting into some shenanigans!

Extra: Hey guys! I'm still sick and haven't been able to write. I've been resting but I feel horrible so I did this for you all! Hooksie one of my favorite ships🫶

- They have one singular braincell that they share

- Black cat x orange cat dynamic

- A couple months before they started dating, most people already assumed they were dating because they mostly acted like it and they were both just oblivious

- Hook always tries to find ways to annoy Uliana and Morgie always tries stopping him. Uliana is annoyed either way

- Hook always suggests they study together, knowing damn well they will not be studying and just goof off the whole time

- Neither of them are used to emotional intimacy so it was very awkward when they first started dating

- After the initial awkwardness they easily became the most annoying couple in school

- They set up a bunch of candles and flowers and make the mood very romantic just to play Uno and yell at each other

- They’re both very romantic but a little tone deaf

- They argue but most of the time only one of them is arguing and the other has no idea

- “You know what? I’m done arguing.” “We were arguing?”

- They’re banned from most public spaces. Restaurants, parks, grocery stores, malls, pretty much anywhere

- ^ usually banned due to their dates and getting in trouble. Whether it was intentional or not

- Always doing stupid dangerous teenager stuff in the middle of the night and calling it a date

- ^ climbing fences, pushing each other down hills in a stolen shopping cart, trespassing, graffiti, TPing houses, ect

- They often trespass into this field that gives the perfect views of the stars. There’s a little stone bench and some animals and they just hold hands and point out the stars.

- They sneak into movies all the time.

- The one place they aren’t banned from and don't have to sneak into is the arcade

- ^ They’re lovers but become rivals the moment they step into the arcade. Always trying to beat each other’s highest scores. They’re definitely regulars there

- They record mixtapes for each other on cassettes like every other month. Listening to them 24/7

- ^ These playlists definitely have Guns n Roses, U2, Queen, AC/DC, and more

- They do movie nights with movies they'll think they'd make fun of but end up loving it

- ^ The Princess Bride and Heathers is definitely one of those movies

- Hook is more affectionate than Morgie but Morgie loves the affection. They're still both very clingy

- Hook always pulling in Morgie for kisses

- They both fluster each other so much. Hook usually does flusters Morgie on purpose and Morgie usually flusters Hook on accident but finds it adorable

- They have attempted to start a band with the other VKs multiple times but it has never worked out

- They cuddle 24/7 and kiss and hold hands and are literally piling on each other, trying to be as physically close as possible

- If one of them is out from school because he's sick, the other will skip school to take care of him

- They always do cringey obscure couple Halloween costumes that no one understands

- When they goof off in class and the teacher is lecturing them, they definitely keep looking at each other and have to hold in from busting out laughing

- ^ Detention buddies

- Morgie leaves little sticky note drawings and letters for Hook just throughout the day.

- ^ Hook keeps a couple of them in his wallet

- Theatre kids and definitely make jokes about their chatacters dating each other in the show

- Overall they just get into so much trouble with their shenanigans and are very clingy

[seramilla]

May I propose that for a fun twist, that when Vaggie goes dress shopping with her mamá and hermanas she tries every single thing but the white just gives her the ick reminding her of Heaven a bit too much. So Carmilla picks out something unconventional for her. A red and black wedding dress…one that has a slit going up to her thigh that shows off the black lacey wedding garter.

Before meeting Charlie, the thought of "marriage" and "Vaggie" in the same sentence had never computed in Vaggie's mind. Even when she and Charlie had started dating, she hadn't been sure marriage was in the stars for her. It seemed like something other people did, but not her. But then Charlie had proposed to her, and Vaggie's entire outlook had been turned on its head. Vaggie had of course said yes, and now it's up to her to figure out what that means for herself.

The only problem is, Vaggie has no idea how to plan for a wedding, or what to even wear, for that matter. She's never been to one, and has no idea what the ceremony even entails. Thankfully, she now has a mother who had been married at one point when she was alive, and two older sisters more than willing to provide an...age-appropriate opinion, so that Carmilla doesn't get carried away, as mothers are often wont to do.

Don't get her wrong, Vaggie values Carmilla's opinion...she just thinks Odette and Clara might provide some much-needed...perspective. Carmilla was married a long time ago...and times have changed since then.

Case in point: Carmilla is old-school, and drags Vaggie, who is very nearly on the verge of puking, through a boutique stacked floor to ceiling with the most gaudy white and white-adjacent wedding gowns Vaggie thinks she's ever seen. Carmilla says it's tradition, and just the way things are usually done. White has been the color of choice for brides for generations of women -- mostly for reasons like tradition, symbolism, personal preference, and just carrying down the same outfits from generation to generation.

The only problem is, Vaggie hates white. Hates it. It reminds her of Heaven and empty platitudes and purity culture and asshole nobles who had called her and the other Exorcists "ruffians" for not embracing the typical snow-white and pastel attire adorned by almost everyone else up there.

Vaggie tries on a few white and lighter-colored dresses, because she loves Carmilla, and a part of her really wants Carmilla's approval in this. But after about the fourth or fifth one, she can feel the bile creeping up the back of her throat at the thought of trying on another. When Carmilla tries to shove the next dress into her arms, Vaggie puts her foot down.

"Mama!" Vaggie huffs, pushing the next dress away. "Look...I really appreciate you wanting to help me, but I just don't like any of this stuff. Isn't there something that doesn't make me look so...angelic?"

"Give it up, Mama," Clara says, doing her best not to laugh at Carmilla's "How-Dare-You!" expression. Odette covers her mouth in amusement, also trying not to laugh. The overlord is simply doing her best...but Carmilla can be a little overbearing when it comes to shopping with her daughters. She has very strong opinions. Odette and Clara had tried to warn Vaggie beforehand, but the fallen angel is clearly discovering it now.

Carmilla sighs heavily. "All right. What colors do you want?"

Vaggie twiddles her fingers. It's a little embarrassing...but ever since meeting Charlie, the red aesthetic just does it for her. They both wear it so often at the hotel, that it's just become a part of her outfit rotation. She mentions to Carmilla, "Something red?"

Carmilla, "Hmmms" under her breath, looking around the store until something catches her eye. She then drags Clara and Odette along with her, as if to gauge their opinion on whatever she's found. A few minutes later, her mother and sisters return with a few different pieces. Carmilla likes one in particular more than the others...but again, Odette and Clara override her, saying there's way too many sequins and lace, and it's not flattering on Vaggie at all. They make their own suggestions, taking Vaggie's preferences into consideration.

Ultimately, Vaggie settles on a gorgeous red wedding dress, with black around the bust and inner lining, and a slit going up the side to expose a black lace garter underneath. Vaggie blushes to herself, just knowing instinctively Charlie will love it. Charlie loves red on her. She makes a mental note to help Charlie find a sexy red suit to match.

Odette and Clara go on the hunt for some matching accessories, and Vaggie honestly just wants to hug the two of them. Carmilla means well...and she did manage to find a pair of banger shoes to go along with the dress...but her sisters had really stepped up for her, in more ways than one. All in all, the family works together to make this process as enjoyable as possible, and come away with something that Vaggie, and Charlie, will appreciate for the rest of their lives.

Vaggie decides that even though she isn't much of a shopper, it's nice to be able to spend time together as a family like this. Even with all the little quirks and annoyances that go along with it. She will take the good and the bad. Because it's all part and parcel of finally having what she's always wanted most -- people who love her.