#Jazzy Lowe

[lordturkish-robomallcop]

Was digging through my big misc notes doc and found this post-session epilogue scene and aaaaaaaaaaaaaah my boy ;-; TFW your ghoulsband is better at parenting the local fledglings than you are.

[doyoulikethissong-poll]

DJ Jazzy Jeff & The Fresh Prince - Summertime 1991

Homebase is the fourth studio album released by American hip-hop duo DJ Jazzy Jeff & The Fresh Prince. The album was released on July 23, 1991, reaching number 12 on the Billboard 200 charts and number 5 on the Top R&B/Hip-Hop Albums chart. It was certified Platinum and won an American Music Award for Favorite Rap/Hip-Hop Album in 1992.

"Summertime" was released as the lead single from Homebase. The song was produced by Chicago-based producers Hula and K. Fingers, and it won a Grammy Award for Best Rap Performance by a Duo or Group at the 1992 Grammy Awards. It spent a week at number 1 on the US Hot R&B/Hip-Hop Songs Chart, as well as reaching number 4 on the Billboard Hot 100. It also became the duo's first single to enter the top ten of the UK Singles Chart, peaking at number 8. The song's instrumentation samples "Summer Madness" by Kool & the Gang, particularly the rising F# octaves played on an ARP 2600 synthesizer.

"Summertime" received a total of 55% yes votes.

[jazzies-stuff]

Student council president who cultivated a near-extinct plant in an attempt to eradicate magic from the world and possibly kill the royal heir to one of the most powerful kingdoms VS conman who tried to sell teenagers-turned-wooden puppets for money and snuck into the same school those teenagers go to alongside his sidekick who bashes people with a hammer VS upcoming secret third thing FIGHT

[sandinthepipes]

Madeleine and joey’s highest and lowest register.

That’s it, you can keep scrolling now, have a good day.

[onionjulius]

No but hear me out

Mazzy Star's "Fade Into You" as the most Abby/Luka song of all time

[camellia-thea]

hmm.

[donospl]

Co w jazzie piszczy [sezon 2 odcinek 26]

premierowa emisja 24 lipca 2024 – 18:00 Graliśmy: Brad Mehldau “Nocturne” z albumu  “Apres Faure” – Nonesuch Records  Brad Mehldau “Between Bach” z albumu “After Bach II” – Nonesuch Records  Liva Dumpe “Sonata No 1. in G major”  z albumu “Tālskatis” Sarah Hanahan “Welcome” z albumu “Among Giants” – Blue Engine Records Ivanna Cuesta “Chaos” z albumu „A Letter to the Earth” – Orenda…

[r-o-s-e-f-i-r-e]

idk i’ve been thinking for the last day about modern day corroded coffin, semi-successful in the local music scene, did a self-funded tour through six states last fall where they all lived in the van together and didn’t shower for four weeks, has a standing gig at the dive bar next to the highway and the strip club, they’re established, they have a small but dedicated local following, they —

“can’t play a WEDDING, are you fucking with me?” eddie says, when gareth shows him the text from his cousin who’s getting married in two weeks and who, as of last night, has no wedding band because they accidentally double booked themselves and gareth’s cousin had sent the deposit in late.

“i’ve explained to him so many times,” gareth says, furiously texting his cousin back, “we’re not that kind of band—”

except gareth’s cousin, instead of responding directly to gareth’s text outlining the musical thesis of corroded coffin or watching the youtube link gareth sends to the show last month where eddie got a black eye in the pit from someone in an inflatable garfield costume, just sends back —

“holy shit,” eddie croaks, looking at the string of zeros on the end of the number gareth’s cousin offers me to pay them in exchange for saving his ass and his wedding and his marriage, since his fiancé was demanding a live band. “that’s—”

“three months of rent for each of us,” gareth says, awed. “that’s buy actual fresh vegetables money. that’s go to the dentist money—”

“yeah, okay, give him my number,” eddie says.

so they spend the next two weeks practicing every white people wedding song they can think of. there’s no way they’ll be able to do, like, get low, tragically, but they can pull off the classics, especially after they bring chrissy onboard for vocals and keyboard. there are places where eddie draws the line — no fucking journey or especially insipid top 40 — but they can do some whitney. abba. fucking — mr. brightside. a lot of it is pretty simple, when you get down to it, “and people will be wasted anyway,” jeff reminds them. there’s an open bar at the six figure venue gareth’s cousin booked. hopefully everyone will be too hyped just hearing the opening baseline to i want you back to notice if they fumble anything hard.

rehearsal montage, chrissy takes the boys to the mall to buy suits montage (except for gareth who, like most transmasc dudes, already has a custom fitted and tailored suit ready to go in his closet; instead he makes catty remarks about brian’s tie choices.) chrissy makes eddie put his hair up and eddie makes jeff shave the experimental mustache he’s been growing and eventually the day of the wedding arrives and they load up the van and drive 45 minutes to the six figure waterfront reception venue.

they riff for about ten minutes while the whole wedding party makes their grand entrance into the massive tent set up on the lawn, ending with gareth’s cousin and his new wife dancing in, the whole crowd screaming and clapping. it’s cute, eddie thinks, vamping as long as he can while gareth’s cousin’s best man takes the mic and introduces the new couple and directs everyone to their seats for dinner.

and meanwhile: best man is frankly one of the hottest dudes eddie’s ever seen. he’s got longish brown hair that he keeps pushing out of his eyes, full lips, an insane shoulder to waist ratio, big hands. eddie sneak looks at him while they play a bunch of low key jazzy standards for people to eat their expensive dinner to. he’s sitting with his arm around the shoulders of a girl with shaggy auburn hair, and they keep leaning in to whisper to each other and giggle, so. oh well. but it doesn’t hurt to look, eddie thinks, watching the guy take his suit jacket off and roll up his sleeves and make a toast to gareth’s cousin and his new wife’s long and joyful marriage.

once most people have had their plates cleared away jeff turns to eddie and the rest of the band and nods, once, and while chrissy plays the opening synth chords to i wanna dance with somebody, jeff turns his front man showmanship deal all the way up.

it’s good. people are fucking hyped, so they throw themselves into it, feeding off the crowd’s energy, and almost no one is more hyped than mr. best man. he’s jumping up and down, his arms around gareth’s cousin and his wife. he knows every word to dancing in the dark (hot). when they transition into robyn’s dancing on my own he turns to the girl with auburn hair and points at her and screams. cute, eddie thinks, watching best man pick her up and spin her around while she downs her wine and shouts along. okay, really fucking hot, eddie thinks, when he finally pulls his loosened tie all the way off and unbuttons the top two buttons of his shirt and eddie can see a hint of chest hair peeking out.

they slow it down for the first dance. it’s the leon bridges one everyone always does, but it’s perfect in jeff’s range, and there is not a single dry motherfucking eye in the audience. they do a couple more slow ones, throughout the night. best man dances with his girlfriend and then gareth’s grandmother and then with every child under the age of 10, letting them stand on his shoes while he twirls them around. how is this guy fucking real, eddie thinks, which of course is when best man notices eddie looking right at him and their eyes meet. best man looks a little flustered, at first, and then grins at eddie, right at him, before spinning the flower girl around in dizzying circles.

jesus christ, eddie thinks.

they’re closing out the night on the only other request gareth's cousin gave them: the one from the end of dirty dancing. jeff thanks the crowd, offers his congratulations to gareth’s cousin, and then goes right into it. except as jeff sings the first line everyone absolutely loses their shit, turning to best man and jumping around him and one of the bridesmaids. what the fucking hell, eddie thinks, keeping one ear on jeff and chrissy’s duet and one ear on the crowd piling around best man “—you guys HAVE to, dude, you’ve GOT to—“ but whatever it is he has to do is not immediately apparent to eddie. best man dances in a circle with the rest of the wedding party and auburn hair and the bride and groom, shout-singing along, and then during the build up to the second prechorus gareth’s cousin’s wife and her bridesmaids start pushing everyone to the sides of the dance floor, so there’s a long space in the middle, so the bridesmaid with curly dark hair is at one end and best man is at the other end and oh my god is he actually going to —

the bridesmaid runs and then launches herself at best man, who lifts her perfectly, right on cue at the peak of the second chorus, his hands steady on her hips while she floats her arms out in front of her just like jennifer grey. they hold it for a few moments while everyone loses their fucking minds and takes a thousand pictures. eddie actually takes his hand off his guitar for a minute. he thinks his mouth is open. he can see the muscles in best man’s arms flexing under his white button up shirt as he carefully lowers the bridesmaid back to the ground, laughing, his eyes scrunched up in joy.

eddie is maybe a little bit in love.

they close it out. the whole crowd whistles and stomps and applauds for them, which feels pretty good, eddie’s not gonna lie. as they start packing it up and high fiving each other and a couple people come over to ask if they have a card, if they’re still booking for next year or the year after (what?) gareth’s cousin comes over and hugs every single one of them, almost in tears, and then adds another 2k to the check he writes for them. eddie pulls out his cigarettes right then and there.

“steve, come meet the band,” he yells, when steve and auburn hair walk past. “gareth saved my whole ass, oh my god —“

“you guys were fucking incredible,” steve says, grinning, shaking gareth’s hand. “best wedding band i’ve heard in years —“

“they’re not even a wedding band!” gareth’s cousin shouts. “they’re like metal — moshing — thrash, i don’t know, LOUD—“

“whoa,” steve says. he pushes his hair out of his eyes and then turns that blinding smile right on eddie. eddie feels struck by it, wants to stagger back like he’s taken an actual blow. “cool, so you guys — play locally, or —?”

“oh my god,” his girlfriend says, rolling her eyes; steve elbows her in the side.

“i like your guitar,” steve says, gesturing at the warlock eddie’s still holding in his non-cigarettes hand.

“oh, uh, thanks,” eddie says.

“it’s a cool shape,” steve says, stepping closer, flicking his eyes down and then back up to meet eddie’s. there’s sweat gathered along his hairline, dampening the ends of his hair. behind him, his girlfriend coughs something loudly that sounds vaguely like slut.

eddie feels his eyebrows go way up.

“uh, thanks, shapes are. you know. shapes are great,” eddie says, nonsensical. he sees gareth shoot him an incredulous look out of the corner of his eye.

“can i bum one?” steve says, looking down to the cigarettes in eddie’s hand.

“totally,” eddie says. “let me just—“ he holds the warlock aloft and gestures to the open guitar case.

“sure,” steve says. he waits around while eddie hustles through getting his shit sorted out and then turns away politely while eddie has a silent desperate telepathic conversation with the rest of the boys, who roll their eyes and make their way over to the still open, still free bar.

where auburn hair is standing and talking to chrissy, putting a hand on chrissy’s arm while she laughs at something chrissy says.

hm, eddie thinks.

“so,” eddie says, walking out from under the tent with steve, down towards the water, awash in the moonlight. he holds out his cigarettes. “you like springsteen?”

[s4turday-sun]

me? looking for cozy wintry jazz recs for a fic? more likely than you’d think ✨

[earthchica]

Right My Wrongs | 2

terry richmond x black fem! reader

summary: You attempt to move on from Terry and explore a new relationship, but Terry discovers this and refuses to let you go.

warning: ANGST, a little fluff, emotions, heartache, new character, pleading, complicated situation, co-parenting, six-year-old daughter, name calling &, etc.

note: thank you so much for the love on the first part. This might be a little mini-series; I have a whole lot to write. <3

series masterlist

It's been three months, and you were doing much better than before, but a sense of loss and longing remained in your heart.

Terry has respected your wishes, kept his distance, and is cordial with you when Jasmine is around.

You wish things were different between you and him, but it aren't, so you need to move on.

You've been on multiple dates with a few guys, but unfortunately, none have sparked your interest.

Jasmine asked about these dates and wondered what happened with you and Terry.

She hoped you two would finally get togather since Terry wasn't seeing Olivia anymore.

Yet, she noticed a difference in the way you two behaved towards each other.

You attempted to explain the situation to her as clearly as possible, but it only made her feel sadder.

Jasmine expressed her true feelings on the matter, leaving you feeling disappointed for making your daughter feel that way.

Because of that, you almost abandoned the idea of dating again until your friend Bri convinced you to go on a date with her brother.

His name was Marcus, and you've met him once or twice, and he was always sweet.

So there you stood, next to him, in a sexy, form-fitting black dress that highlighted your curves.

Your hair was styled in a slicked-back ponytail, and your makeup was subtle.

This had to be your fifth date with Marcus, and it's been going pretty great so far.

Marcus was a tall, slender man with a deep brown complexion and brown hooded eyes.

He was not only handsome and sweet, but he also dedicated his life to saving lives as a firefighter.

Marcus radiated an irresistible charm and sweet bliss that truly captivated you.

You might say he was the perfect guy, but you longed for someone else, and that was Terry.

Maybe you could settle for Marcus, and down the line, you fall in love with him.

"Hey, you good? " He asked, cutting you out of your thoughts with his husky voice.

Marcus smirked when you made eye contact, shuffling and coming closer to you.

You nodded "Yeah...."

"Do ya want to get out of here?" His voice dripped with a lustful tone that sent a shiver down your spine, leaving you intrigued.

"And go where?" you replied. Maybe you could also have fun with him first, but you had to be careful.

Marcus rested his hands on your lower back, and his lips drew closer to your ears.

You could feel the warmth of his breath trailing on you, straightening your back a little.

"Somewhere private. What do ya say, beautiful?" Marcus whispered, moving away to gaze into your eyes.

That night ended with you two having hot, wild, rough sex, which you really needed.

You, of course, used protection and were totally satisfied; Marcus knew how to dick a girl down.

The sudden ringing of your phone disrupted the peace, prompting a groan out of you.

You reached for your phone, checked the time, and noticed it was almost noon.

You answer the call.

"Hello?" You spoke in a low, indistinct voice, and there was a brief silence before the sound of a familiar voice reached your ears.

"Hey, baby girl," Terry answered.

"Uh, hey, Terry," You said, clearing your throat. You sat up slowly so as not to wake Marcus up.

"I was just calling to see if you were alright. And are you still coming to pick up Jazzy,"

"Shit...uh, yeah," You replied, gently releasing yourself from Marcus's hold before rising from the bed to make your way to the bathroom.

"Hey, beautiful, come back to bed!" Marcus mumbled in a drowsy state; you gestured for him to lower his voice.

He winked at you with a lazy smirk, and in response, you rolled your eyes and returned your attention to your phone.

"Who the hell was that? Are-are you seeing someone?" Terry asked in a tone filled with aggravation and panic.

"It's none of your business, Terry. I'll be over there to pick up Jazzy. Okay?" You uttered coldly and abruptly hung up the phone before he could respond.

You gazed at yourself in the mirror; your makeup was messy, and your hair was frizzy and wild, but nothing you couldn't fix.

You began your morning routine while Marcus was still sleeping in your bed.

Once you walk out of the bathroom fully dressed. You sighed, seeing him still asleep.

You wake him up, and he groans and turns over his side to look at you.

"Time to go?" Marcus asked, a slight smirk on his face while sitting on his back.

"Yeah, I have to pick my daughter I'm sor-" You started, and he cut you off.

"No, no, it's fine. I was just hoping to have lunch with you, but I get it," He says with a playful smirk, then gets out of bed to get dressed.

You waited for him downstairs. As he walked towards you, you turned and gazed at him, and he greeted you with a smile.

You laced your hands behind his neck and pulled him closer to your face; his hands found your sides.

"Marcus, you're a great guy, and I like you, and I want something out of this than just sex, if that makes sense."

"Hey, it's okay. I want something more, too, sugar," He says before leaning in and kissing your cheek.

"For real?" You asked with a slight smile, which made him grow a much bigger one.

"For real, beautiful," he said with a nod. You smiled and kissed him passionately.

-

Meanwhile, Terry felt his heart sink as he realized you might be with another man.

Terry couldn't shake the thought from his mind: "You were with another man." 

The words echoed in his head until he flinched out of it when he heard the voice of his daughter calling him.

"Daddy, are you okay?" she asked, confused while gazing at him from where she stood.

"Yeah, princess. Shouldn't you be getting ready?; your mom will be here soon," he said, quickly putting his phone down and tucking it away.

"Daddy, I can tell when you're lying. I know something happened between you and Mommy; she's been going on dates," she said, sighing.

Her eyes filled with concern as she sat beside him on the couch. Terry heaved a sigh, the weight of his mistakes.

"Yeah, figure that. I messed up really bad, Jazzy; she's upset with me and probably hates my guts."

"She doesn't, Daddy. You can fix it, and you can make her happy again. You both need each other; I need you together, I-I" she stopped, looking down at her hands.

"What is it, Jazzy?" Terry asked, gently placing his hand on her tiny shoulder, conveying his worry and care for her.

"I don't like going back and forth between houses. I wish we could all be together and live as a family—I told mommy...that's all the kids at my school have. I always wanted that. I don't like you and Mommy not talking and being happy like you used to," she explains.

Terry felt a deep pang of sorrow as he listened to his daughter's words.

He tenderly drew her into his embrace, comforting her as she shed a few tears.

"It's okay, baby. I'm so sorry; we've tried to make this work as best as possible."

"You can try harder, Daddy. Fix it with Mommy. Don't you love her?" She asked, looking up at him with her light eyes that matched his.

At that moment, Terry found himself wrestling with a tangle of emotions.

He was in love with you, but his fear and foolishness prevented him from acknowledging his true feelings.

The idea of you being with another man was too much for him to handle.

"I do, princess. I love her so much." Terry felt a profound sense of relief as he finally confessed his feelings.

There was something incredibly liberating about sharing this with his daughter.

"You have to tell her then; I'm sure she'll find it in her heart to forgive you…She loves you; she always has," she says, her eyes sparkling with hope as she smiles.

"Okay, Jazzy. I'll try," Terry said softly, with a warm smile. She nodded with an even more radiant smile.

-

You arrived at Terry's apartment door and were about to knock when it swung open, revealing your daughter, Jasmine.

"Mommy, can we please stay for dinner with Daddy? He made pasta and garlic bread," Jasmine begged without saying hello to you.

"Wow, no, hi, hello, mommy. I missed you, nothing?" you asked in a playful tone.

"Sorry," She giggled joyfully and wrapped her arms tightly around your waist.

"Hi, Mommy. I missed you so much," she exclaimed with genuine warmth.

"That's more like it, and I missed you too, baby. Were you good for your dad?" You asked with a slight chuckle.

You both enter Terry's apartment, greeted by the aroma of a home-cooked meal.

"Yeah, I was good. So...Is that a yes?" Jasmine asked, crossing her fingers with a hopeful smile.

You briefly looked down at her, then shifted your gaze to the big window, lost in thought for a moment.

"I don't know, Jazzy. Did you ask your dad if it was ok?" You asked, looking back at her.

"No need. I would love for you two to stay for dinner, only if you want to," Terry says, adding to the conversation.

His intense gaze met yours as he stood before you, clad in a snug gray T-shirt and jeans accentuating his muscular form.

"Just do it for Jazzy," you repeat these words, reassuring yourself that everything will be okay.

"I guess we can stay for dinner," You said with a small smile, shifting your gaze to your daughter, who looked so joyful.

"YAYYY!!! Thank you, Mommy," Jasmine yelled joyfully and enthusiastically, wrapping her arms around your waist once more.

You reciprocated her hug with a warm chuckle, and said, "You're welcome, baby."

"Come on," With a gentle tug, she beckons you into the quaint dining room while Terry quietly follows suit and graciously pulls out your chair.

"Thank you," you murmured, feeling a bit shy, and he nodded in response.

Terry proceeded to carry the steaming, appetizing food to the table. The dish looked and smelled absolutely delightful.

"That looks good, Daddy," Jasmine smiles, getting garlic bread with her pasta on her plate.

You nodded in agreement with Jasmine, expressing your approval to Terry.

"Yeah, Terry, this dish looks really appetizing. I'm sure it's going to taste amazing."

"Thanks, girls, I really appreciate both of you," Terry says warmly, flashing a charming smile.

Terry blessed the food, and you all began to eat and engage in light, casual conversation.

"Mommy, can we stay and watch TV?" Jasmine asked, her eyes filled with hope.

"No, Jazzy. You only asked to stay for dinner, and I'm pretty sure your dad has company coming over," you said, rolling your eyes.

"He doesn't, mommy. I promise...It's gonna just be three of us, right, Daddy?" Jasmine asked with a little grin.

You were keenly aware of her intentions, and you were certain her little plan would not work.

You shot a quick look at Terry, who had a slightly nervous expression on his face.

"Yeah, come on, baby girl. Just one show, and that's it," Terry says with a small smile.

You just gave him a hesitant look, and then there was a knock on the door.

Terry sighed and politely excused himself, reaching the door to answer it.

Once he disappeared from view, you turned your attention to Jasmine.

"Okay, Jazzy. What's going on?" You asked, crossing your arms in front of your chest and looking at her with raised eyebrows.

"What do you mean, Mommy? " she asked, looking at you innocently and shrugging shortly.

"You know what I'm talking about, little girl. We talked about this," you told her, uncrossing your arms.

"Just wait and see, Mommy," Jasmine says sassily. You look at her shock and wonder where she got that from. *you silly*

Terry returned with a large bouquet containing a mixture of your three favorite flowers.

"Woah, Daddy! Who are those for?" Jasmine asked with a giggle as she watched the expression on your face.

The delicate beauty of flowers always captivated you, and receiving them never failed to fill you with an indescribable sense of joy and warmth.

"These are for your mother. It looks like she's got a secret admirer," Terry said, giving you the flowers.

You took the flowers from Terry's hands, feeling his fingers brush against yours, sending a shiver down your spine.

You cleared your throat and moved away, giving Terry and Jasmine both a look before smelling the flower.

"Hmm, I guess we can stay and watch a show," you said with a shrug while rolling your eyes.

You three were cozied up on the couch, engrossed in an episode of Family Feud.

Jasmine gradually drifted into a peaceful slumber as the show progressed, finding comfort in Terry's embrace.

Terry took her to the other room, and when he came, you two discussed watching another episode.

"Oh shit, is it really three pounds?" You inquired, glancing over at Terry, who was chuckling and shaking his head in amusement.

"I am unsure," he says nonchalantly, lifting and dropping his broad shoulders in a casual shrug.

Steve Harvey on TV: Name a salad dressing that you see at a salad bar.

Both you and Terry simultaneously exclaimed, "Ranch," but then you quickly added, "I said it first."

"No, you didn't."

"Yes, I did," you playfully remarked, jabbing your finger into his chest, teasingly referring to him as "applehead."

Terry chuckled as he gestured toward the TV screen. "Well, even if you did, they've already said 'Ranch,' he remarked.

"Mmm, whatever," you said, playfully rolling your eyes at him with a hint of amusement.

Steve Harvey on TV: Name something that happens in April.

The phrase "April Fools" echoed in unison from both of you once more.

A brief moment of shared laughter passed as you exchanged glances before refocusing on the television.

"I guess you can say I won," you said, rising from the plush couch, gracefully bowed and waved, silently mouthing "thank you" with a grateful smile.

"I didn't know it was a competition, baby girl." Terry lets out a hearty laugh as he rises to his feet and positions himself before you.

"Well, it was, so I won! What you gotta say to that, applehead," You said with a giggle, moving closer to him.

"You betta stop calling that," he said gently, tickling you, making you laugh.

Terry's heart couldn't help but flutter joyfully as your laughter filled the air.

You abruptly ceased laughing, feeling captivated as you shifted your gaze back and forth between his pretty eyes and his luscious, plump lips.

Terry leaned in, and you gave in to the kiss despite wanting to stop him.

The electric sensation you felt during the kiss, the comforting strength of his embrace, you shake your head before pulling away.

"Um...thanks for dinner, Terry. I know It means a lot to Jasmine. It's time to go. Yeah, it's time," You were about to leave, but Terry quickly intervened and stopped you."

"Hey, you can't just walk away after that," Terry's voice trembled with emotion as he reached out to hold both of your hands.

"Terry-" You began speaking, but he silenced you with a gentle touch on your lips.

"Please just listen. I'm sorry for a lot of shit I put you through; you never deserved it. You've been the best thing ever to me, and I've taken you for granted. I want to right my wrongs; I want to fix them. I'm tired of this tension between you and me. I want us to move past this and become like we used to be but different; I want us to be a family, for real this time." Terry said, a few tears streaming down his face as he continued.

"You love me, I know you do, and I love you, and I always have; I know it may be hard to believe, but I do love you, baby girl. I'm in love with you and don't want to lose you to someone else; give me a chance, baby. I know actions speak louder than words, but I just....need you to tell me it's okay," Terry said, his eyes searching yours for hope.

His words were sincere and borne the weight of his emotions, and you longed to hear that from him.

Though your simmering anger and stubborn pride obstructed your way, you didn't know if you could let go of the hurt.

"You must think I'm a damn fool, huh? You had plenty of opportunities to tell me how you felt, but you waited until Imma trying to move on to confess your feelings, huh? No, Terry." You said, shaking your head.

"No...I don't. I'm the damn fool, really...I know, I know. Come on...baby girl, you don't even want to try to give me a chance. Let me fix it; let's try to fix it. I want you, and only you, baby girl; I fucking love you, please," Terry pleaded, dropping down on both knees.

"Terry, stop. Please get up." You said, tightly gripped his shirt and yanked him upward, but he clutched onto your legs, pleading with you.

"Please," He whispered lowly. You are getting a little overwhelmed with emotions.

"I can't, I just can't," you said, harshly pushing him away before rushing to get Jasmine from the other room. "She can, but she is afraid."

You gently awakened her, whispering that it was time to say bye and go home.

As you gathered her belongings and prepared the car, you waited patiently for her to join you.

"Bye, Daddy," She said, kissing his cheek before wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Bye, princess. See you next week," Terry said in a low voice, desperately trying to hold back his emotions to shield his daughter from noticing his heartache.

[goddessofvalyria]

SKIN | Modern!Aemond Targaryen x fem!oc

Summary: Aemond only wants to make her girl feels good.

TW: 18+, MINORS DNI, SMUT She/Her pronouns, kissing, sexual themes, dirty talking, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, masturbation (f receiving) tits sucking/play, squirting, sex.

This is a modern Aemond in modern AU, inspired by Mac Miller's song "Skin." Much like the rest of the album, it revolves around Mac’s sexual and emotional relationships. The song is smooth and sexy, both lyrically and sonically and the jazzy and R&B feel is a departure from Mac’s usual style.

English is not my first language, be kind and enjoy the fic <3

Words: 3300

"You hide your skin like ya shy or did somethin' wrong You stylish when you got nothin' on"

— Skin, Mac Miller.

Aemond Targaryen's fingertips glide over her skin like he's tracing constellations, each touch deliberate, as if he's memorizing the map of her body. His room is dimly lit, the soft glow of a single lamp casting shadows that dance across the walls, adding to the intimacy of the moment. The sultry notes of Mac Miller’s "Skin" play softly in the background, setting a slow, seductive rhythm that mirrors their movements.

He leans down, his breath warm against her ear. “I only want to make you feel good,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough, each word like a promise. She shivers beneath him, her back arching in response to the sensation, pressing her body closer to his.

Her hands travel up his chest, feeling the hard planes of his muscles through the thin fabric of his t-shirt. She tugs at it, a silent plea, and he obliges, pulling it over his head and tossing it aside. He grins down at her, his eye dark with desire, the scar across his face only adding to the intensity of his look. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispers, his lips brushing hers as he speaks.

She pulls him into a kiss, deep and needy, her tongue sweeping into his mouth. Aemond groans into her, his hands sliding up her sides, under her shirt. His thumbs brush against her breasts, teasing her nipples through the lace of her bra, and she gasps into his mouth. He swallows her sounds, drinking them in like they’re the sweetest wine.

He breaks the kiss, trailing his lips down her jaw, her neck, sucking and nipping at her skin. She tilts her head back, giving him more access, her breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. “Aemond,” she breathes, her voice trembling with anticipation. “Please…”

He smirks against her throat, his fingers deftly unhooking her bra. “I’ve got you, baby,” he assures her, sliding the straps down her arms and tossing it aside. His mouth moves lower, capturing a nipple between his lips, sucking gently, his tongue swirling around the hardened bud. She moans, her hands tangling in his silver hair, pulling him closer.

Aemond’s free hand travels down her stomach, slipping beneath the waistband of her shorts. His fingers find her wet and ready, and he groans against her skin. “Fuck, you’re so wet for me,” he growls, his fingers teasing her clit in slow, deliberate circles. She cries out, her hips bucking against his hand, seeking more.

He chuckles, dark and throaty. “Patience, love,” he chides softly. “I want to savor you.” He slips a finger inside her, curling it just right, finding that spot that makes her see stars. She gasps, her nails digging into his shoulders, and he adds another finger, pumping them slowly in and out, his thumb brushing against her clit with every stroke.

His lips never leave her skin, kissing down her neck, across her collarbone, and lower still, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. She shivers beneath him, her breath hitching as his fingers slide between her legs, finding her slick and ready.

He teases her, his fingers brushing lightly against her clit, eliciting a gasp from her lips. He smirks at her reaction, his eyes dark with desire. “I want to make you feel good” he murmurs, his voice low and husky. “I want to see you come undone for me.”

Without waiting for a response, he slides agin two fingers inside her, curling them just right, hitting that spot that makes her cry out. His thumb presses against her clit, moving in slow, deliberate circles, building her pleasure. She grips his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin, her hips bucking against his hand.

“Oh, Aemond” she gasps, her voice breathless, her head falling back against the pillows. He watches her, his gaze hungry, his fingers moving faster, thrusting in and out of her with a steady rhythm. She feels the tension building inside her, the coil tightening with every stroke, every flick of his thumb.

He leans in, his lips brushing against her ear. “Come for me,” he whispers, his breath hot against her skin. “I want to feel you come on my fingers.”

His words push her closer to the edge, her body trembling, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps. He keeps up the pressure, his fingers curling inside her, his thumb rubbing her clit in just the right way. She’s so close, teetering on the brink, her body tensing, her mind going blank with pleasure.

And then she’s there, the wave crashing over her, her body convulsing as she squirts soaking the sheets, the release so intense it takes her breath away. Aemond groans at the sight, his fingers never stopping, coaxing every last bit of pleasure from her. She’s shaking, her body spent, her heart racing. He cuts her off with a deep kiss, swallowing her moans as her orgasm crashes over her, her walls tightening around his fingers. He keeps moving, drawing out her pleasure, not stopping until she’s a shaking, breathless mess beneath him.

He pulls back, his lips swollen and slick from her kiss, his fingers glistening with her arousal. He brings them to his mouth, sucking them clean with a groan, his gaze locked on hers. “You taste so fucking good” he murmurs, and she feels a new wave of heat flood through her at his words, her body already aching for more.

He doesn’t make her wait long. He stands, shedding the rest of his clothes, and she can’t help but admire the sight of him—tall, lean, his body a masterpiece of strength and grace. He looks down at her with a predatory hunger that sends a thrill through her.

“Your turn” he says, his voice a low growl, and she doesn’t hesitate. She sits up naked, reaching for his hips, her mouth watering at the sight of his hard length. She licks her lips, her eyes meeting his as she takes him in her hand, stroking him slowly. He hisses, his head falling back, his fingers tangling in her hair as she leans in, her tongue flicking out to taste him.

She takes his fat cook into her mouth, hollowing her cheeks as she sucks him in deep. Aemond groans, his grip tightening in her hair, his hips thrusting forward slightly. “Fuck, just like that,” he mutters, his voice rough with pleasure. “You’re so good at this, baby.”

She hums around him, the vibrations making him curse under his breath. She works him with her mouth and hand, taking him deeper and deeper until he’s panting, his muscles tensing. He pulls her off of him suddenly, his eyes wild, his chest heaving. “If you keep going, I’m not gonna last” he admits, his voice strained.

She smiles, wiping her lips with the back of her hand. “That’s the idea” she teases, but he shakes his head, pulling her up to her feet.

“Not yet,” he says, his voice low and commanding. “I want to feel you.” He guides her back to the bed, laying her down gently. He positions himself between her thighs, his hands gripping her hips as he slides into her slowly, inch by inch, filling her completely.

They both moan at the sensation, the heat, the tightness. Aemond starts moving, his thrusts slow and deep, each one hitting that perfect spot inside her. She wraps her legs around his waist, pulling him closer, needing him deeper. “Aemond… please...” she begs, her nails digging into his back.

He grins down at her, his eye dark and hungry. “I’ve got you” he repeats, his thrusts speeding up, growing harder, more desperate. “I’m gonna make you feel so fucking good.”

And he does.

He drives into her relentlessly, his pace punishing, his grip on her hips almost bruising. She’s a mess beneath him, writhing and crying out, her body taut with pleasure. “Aemond… I’m—”

“Cum for me” he commands, his voice a rough growl, and she shatters, her orgasm ripping through her like a storm. He follows her over the edge, spilling into her with a guttural moan, his body trembling with the force of his release.

They collapse together, tangled and breathless, their bodies slick with sweat. Aemond pulls her close, kissing her forehead, her cheeks, her lips. “I love you” he whispers, his voice soft, tender.

She smiles up at him, her eyes heavy with exhaustion and contentment. “I love you too” she murmurs, snuggling into his chest.

They lay there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the music still playing softly in the background, their bodies humming with the aftermath of their passion. And as they drift off to sleep, Aemond knows he’s done what he set out to do—he’s made his girl feel good.

But... how they did got together?

Aemond Targaryen was always the smartest boy in school, the one who could solve complex equations in his head and recite entire passages from memory. But his intelligence made him a target. Aemond was a bit of a nerd, always seen with his nose buried in a book or lost in thought, and that was enough to draw the attention of the bullies.

He was just 11 when they cornered him one day after school, dragging him behind the gym where no one would see. He tried to fight back, but there were too many of them, and they were too strong. They jeered and taunted him, calling him names, saying he thought he was better than them. Aemond didn’t understand why they hated him so much.

Then one of them, the leader, said something about putting out his eyes, like they were going to take away the only thing that made him special. Aemond tried to escape, but they held him down, and the sharp pain of a knife slicing across his face made him scream. Blood poured from his wound, and he fell to the ground, clutching his face, blinded by the searing pain.

The bullies ran off, laughing, leaving him there, broken and bleeding. He didn't know how long he lay there, his cries echoing in the empty courtyard.

It was then that she found him. His classmate, the girl who sat two rows over in their history class. She was just passing by when she saw him, crumpled and crying, his face covered in blood. Without thinking, she ran to him, kneeling beside him, her hands shaking as she reached for her phone to call for help.

"Hold on, Aemond" she whispered, her voice trembling but kind. "I'm here. I’ve got you."

She stayed with him and the teacher until the ambulance arrived, holding his hand and wiping the blood from his face with the hem of her shirt. He was in too much pain to speak, but her presence was a comfort, a light in the darkness. Aemond never forgot how she stayed with him when everyone else had turned away.

From that day on, he became attached to her. She was his safe place, the one person who didn’t see him as just the “nerdy kid” or the “boy with the scar.” She saw him, the real him. They grew up together, side by side, through every awkward teenage phase and high school drama.

Their first kiss happened on a cool autumn evening when they were both 15. They had decided to go for a walk after dinner, a habit they’d fallen into over the years. Aemond loved these walks—they were quiet, private, and it was during these moments that he felt closest to her.

The leaves crunched under their feet as they walked down the empty street, their breath visible in the chilly night air. She walked close beside him, her arm occasionally brushing against his. They talked about everything and nothing, sharing stories and laughing easily, the way they always did. But tonight felt different. There was a certain tension in the air, a kind of electricity that neither of them could ignore.

The moon hung high in the sky, casting a soft, silver glow over everything. They reached a small park, its playground empty, the swings swaying slightly in the breeze. She pulled him toward the swings, and they sat down, side by side, their feet barely touching the ground.

For a moment, they just sat there in silence, listening to the rustling of the leaves and the distant hum of the city. Aemond could feel his heart pounding in his chest, a nervous excitement building inside him. He glanced over at her, taking in the way the moonlight illuminated her face, her eyes sparkling with a light all their own.

“What are you thinking about?” she asked softly, turning to look at him.

He hesitated for a moment, his breath hitching in his throat. He wanted to tell her everything—how much she meant to him, how he couldn’t imagine his life without her, how her presence had saved him in more ways than one. But the words caught in his throat.

Instead, he simply said: “You.”

Her eyes softened, a small smile playing at her lips. “Good things, I hope” she teased, though there was a hint of something more in her voice.

He nodded, feeling a surge of courage. “Always” he replied, his voice barely more than a whisper.

She looked at him for a long moment, her smile fading into something more serious, more intense. Aemond’s heart was racing now, his palms suddenly clammy. She was so close—close enough that he could see the small freckles dusting her cheeks, close enough that he could feel her breath on his skin.

And then, before he could overthink it, she leaned in, her lips brushing against his in the softest, most tentative kiss. It was a light touch, barely there, but it sent a jolt of electricity through him, his entire body coming alive with the sensation.

For a moment, he didn’t move, stunned by the suddenness of it, by the realization that this was happening—that she was kissing him. But then he leaned into her, his hand coming up to cup her cheek, deepening the kiss. It was sweet and soft and perfect, everything he had ever imagined it would be.

When they finally pulled away, they were both breathless, their faces flushed with a mix of cold and excitement. She smiled at him, her eyes bright and happy, and he couldn’t help but smile back, his heart feeling light and free in a way it never had before.

“Wow” she whispered, her voice filled with awe and a hint of laughter.

“Yeah” he agreed, still trying to catch his breath. “Wow.”

They stayed there for a while, their foreheads touching, the world around them forgotten. In that moment, under the light of the moon, Aemond realized that he wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of his life making her smile like that. And as they walked home, their hands intertwined, he knew that this was just the beginning of something beautiful.

By the time they were 17, Aemond knew he wanted more. His feelings for her had deepened into something stronger, something he couldn’t ignore. He’d never been brave when it came to matters of the heart, but for her, he found the courage. One warm spring afternoon, he asked her out on a date, his heart racing in his chest as he waited for her answer.

She smiled at him, that same kind smile she’d given him all those years ago when she found him bleeding and broken. “I’d love to” she said, and his heart soared.

From that moment on, they were inseparable.

Now, years later they are in their 20s, his girl—his love—lays in his bed, and Aemond knows there’s nowhere else in the world he’d rather be than right here, with her.

As they lay in bed, wrapped in the soft glow of the moonlight filtering through the curtains, Aemond runs his fingers gently through her hair, savoring the warmth of her body pressed against his. The room is quiet, filled with only the soft sounds of their breathing and the steady beat of their hearts. She looks up at him, a playful smile dancing on her lips.

“Do you remember my 18th birthday?” she asks, her voice soft, her eyes shimmering with a teasing light.

Aemond chuckles, his hand coming to rest on her cheek, his thumb brushing across her skin. “How could I forget?” he replies, his voice low and full of warmth. “I remember everything about that night.”

She smiles, her gaze turning thoughtful. “It was the first time we made love” she says softly, her eyes never leaving his.

Aemond’s smile deepens at the memory. He remembers how nervous he was, how much he wanted everything to be perfect for her. They had been together for a while by then, but this felt different—more intimate, more significant. It was her 18th birthday, a milestone, and he wanted to give her something special, something that would stay with her forever.

“You were so beautiful” he murmurs, his voice filled with affection. “You still are.”

She laughs lightly, her cheeks flushing with a soft blush. “I was so nervous” she admits, her fingers tracing small patterns on his chest. “I remember thinking… what if I’m not good enough? What if you don’t like it?”

Aemond shakes his head, his expression tender. “I was the one who was nervous” he confesses. “I wanted it to be perfect for you. I wanted to make sure you felt safe and loved. It was my first time too.”

She smiles, her eyes misting over with emotion. “You did” she whispers. “I remember the way you looked at me, like I was the most precious thing in the world. You were so gentle, so patient. You made me feel… cherished.”

He leans down, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “Because you are” he says quietly. “You always have been.”

She closes her eyes, relishing the warmth of his lips against her skin, the sincerity in his words. “I remember the way you touched me” she continues, her voice barely more than a whisper. “Every touch felt like fire and ice all at once. It was like… like you were showing me how much you loved me without even saying a word.”

Aemond smiles, his heart swelling with affection. “I was” he admits. “I wanted you to feel it, to know it deep in your bones. I wanted you to know that I’d always be there for you, no matter what.”

She looks up at him, her eyes soft and filled with love. “And I did” she says. “I still do.”

They fall silent for a moment, lost in the memory of that night. He remembers the way she trembled beneath him, her breath hitching in her throat as he kissed her slowly, deeply. He remembers the way her hands clutched at his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin as he moved inside her, their bodies fitting together perfectly, as if they were made for each other.

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt that… alive.” she says, breaking the silence, her voice filled with a soft laugh.

Aemond chuckles, his hand sliding down to rest on her hip, pulling her closer.

She smiles, her heart full, and leans up to press her lips against his in a soft, lingering kiss. “I love you” she whispers against his lips, her eyes fluttering closed.

“I love you too,” Aemond replies, his voice a low rumble in his chest. “Always.”

And as they lay there, still naked wrapped in each other’s arms, they both know that no matter how much time passes, no matter what the future holds, they will always have each other.

[chanranghaeys]

🥛 just like a tattoo

Waking up was always something you looked forward to, especially if the first sight in the morning is Vernon and his hidden little secrets, and maybe his cute chocolate milk carton.

pairing: idol!tattooed!vernon x gn!reader, reader is identified to be female word count: 1.3k tags: slice of life, fluff first thing in the morning, vernon has multiple tattoos (in my head) listed in detail warnings: slight sexual overtones, pg-13 at most 😇

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ masterlist . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

The light burns through your eyes, waking you from a dreamless slumber. Looking around, you find the source of the almost blinding glare: the patch of sun bleeding through the curtains of the already-lightened room. You glance at the clock hanging from the wall across you. It was 8 am on a Sunday—a perfect reason to sleep in.

You slowly move around the bed and find that you are already wearing a slightly loose shirt and panties. Memories of last night flood your mind and you close your eyes again almost as if in bliss. It’s been a good two weeks since you two spent the night together, and while you both maybe kinda slightly expected it, both of you were still surprised at how deep the need was for one another, as evidenced by the slight ache in your thighs and back while you moved. Nothing you couldn’t manage, but definitely more reason to just stay in bed.

When you turn again, you see his slim figure leaning against the door frame and you wonder how long he’d been watching you toss and turn. He had no shirt on because you realized that you had his shirt on your back, and his boxers were slung dangerously low as if haphazardly thrown on. And while you’ve marveled at this sight too many times than you can count, you still can’t help but look at his body in awe.

People could say he had a sleeper bod, and you agreed, but it wasn’t something he cared for. If he was healthy and able to move about, he was content with that. But with all the activity his job demanded, his body followed suit. He wasn’t all muscle or all skin, but he was built sturdily and toned in the places that got the most use—that is to say, his arms, thighs, and core. His naturally light skin tone almost looked sallow in the places that didn’t get much sun, but it only enhanced what he permitted only your, and very few other, eyes to see.

Strokes of black both thick and thin were scattered across his torso in a most curated manner. They weren’t a lot, but you knew that his tattoos were his most well-kept secret from the K-pop industry, and you knew it was the deepest privilege to be able to even have a glimpse of one, much less all that can be hidden behind a shirt. You’ve memorized all of them at this point.

On his right chest near his lower rib was a simple line of text in all caps inspired by a line from “The Matrix”: SEE IT FOR YOURSELF. Another text tattoo lined the left side of his torso, this time a vertical stack of letters spelling out MELODY—once a temporary tattoo for a concert, now permanent to forever honor his mother.

There was one tattoo that he knew people were aware of and didn’t mind much, and that was the small star tattoo at the back of his right ear’s helix, but little did people know that it was only one of a series, with the rest of the small stardust sparkles smattering his back near his right shoulder blade. Specifically, there were five of them, one representing each member of his tight-knit family, including Jazzy and Leo Chwe.

Amidst the minimalist tattoos was one that stood out as more realistic than others—a medium-sized sunflower head on his left hip, its petals you could see right now peeking from the top band of his boxers. People knew of his sister Sofia’s own sunflower tattoo down her left thigh, but fewer people knew that when she was 17 and he was 23, they both talked about how they’d get matching sibling tattoos and their discussion landed on sunflowers. While Vernon wished he could place it in a more prominent spot, he knew better than to do such a thing.

“Did you sleep well, baby?” His deep morning voice broke your reverie as you finally settled on his eyes, his gaze forever the most piercing one you never could break. You gave him a lazy, mischief-laden smile.

“The best sleep I’ve had in weeks. I guess I have someone to thank for making sure I was knocked out last night.”

He let out a light-hearted scoff and drank from his chocolate milk carton. “You know that I was just following your lead, right? I asked you what you wanted, I just gave it to you.”

“I know.” You rolled your eyes, recalling how you were practically begging him with tears in your eyes—the utter hold he had on you was intoxicating. It was those clear brown eyes, you swore so. “I hate you.”

“I love you, too.” At that, he gave you the softest smile and his gaze eventually followed suit.

“I love you more.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I hate you.”

He laughed again and shifted his weight off the door frame and moved toward you. You sat up to meet him in an embrace, your head resting on his warm chest as he kissed your head.

“Can we stay in, Nonie? Please? Pleaseeeeeee?” You look up at his raised eyebrow and pursed lips, swearing you will never get tired of his expressions that said exactly what he was thinking. Right now it obviously said, “Are you kidding me right now?”

“What if…” You trailed off mid-sentence as you lowered your hands to the waistband of his boxers, brushing your thumb over the sunflower’s petals suggestively. At that, he drew in a sharp breath and stepped away. He knew what you were capable of, so he had to stop it right there.

“Easy, young lady. You know we won’t get anywhere with that attitude of yours. We’ll be late if you keep that up.” The scene was comical, his serious expression and pointed finger at you in warning just did not suit the fact that his other hand held an unfinished milk carton.

You grab the carton from his hand and take a generous sip, grateful for the cool and sweet liquid down your parched throat. “Fine. But could you at least make me coffee? Or something that will wake me up more than this chocolate milk of yours?”

“It’s in the kitchen. I also made French toast!” His smile as he said this was so bright, it was the gummy smile you so loved from him. But it was what he said that made you stop mid-sip of milk.

“You what?”

“I made French toast. And bacon and eggs because it was the easiest after the French toast, which was not as easy as it looked when I did it with you.”

“And you made coffee?”

He shrugged. “I knew you were gonna wake up late,” finishing with a smirk. “Now come on. And give me back my milk carton before you finish it all.” He took back his drink and did not leave your side until you finally stood your lazy ass up. “There’s my good girl,” he says, followed by him slapping said ass teasingly, then walking out of the room with a final grin.

When he faced his back to you, you saw the most recent tattoo he got: a minimalist rendition of a rock with googly eyes on the small corner of its lower left. You remember watching “Everything, Everywhere, All at Once” in the cinema with him, the last full show of the day, and he would not shut up about it. You got it though, you truly did, and you’d both talk for hours on end about the film. So it was decided: it was the first matching tattoo you got together.

Could love really be this easy? You thought to yourself, as you smiled and got ready for payback.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

a/n: frickin’ vernon and his damn hip tattoo living rent-free in my headcanons. i blame my friends for planting this idea in my head and as a result, this came to be. i shall now leave you all with this mental image so i do not suffer alone HEHE

[writteninlunarlight-years]

I Have You Now

RadioApple X Reader

This is based on the song "Rule #34—Fish Inside a Birdcage", which is one of my all-time favorite bands. I have never written a poly story, but let's try it.

TW: AFAB Reader, Tentacles, Bondage, Sexual relations, Rough Sex, Polyamory, Voyeurism

The jazz club pulsed with electric energy, a tapestry of laughter and low, sultry whispers weaving through the air. Alastor had chosen this vibrant haven for a reason—it was the perfect backdrop to deepen his connection with Lucifer, a bond that had grown richer and more adventurous. They were both searching for new experiences to ignite the flames of their passion and tonight, they were ready to explore uncharted territories.

With a sly glint in his eye, Alastor had orchestrated a plan, putting out feelers for a captivating beauty who could match the formidable allure of both himself and Lucifer. And oh, how Mimzy had delivered. 

Alastor had visited the enchanting woman alone on numerous occasions, each rendezvous filled with tantalizing anticipation and whispered secrets. But tonight was different; Lucifer had expressed a desire to join him, to meet the woman who had trapped Alastor’s thoughts and desires.

They held a sacred agreement in their unique relationship: no touching unless permission was granted beforehand. Alastor, the more primal of the two, had always taken the lead in selecting who would grace their bed. Still, this woman had become an irresistible obsession, drawing him back repeatedly. Lucifer craved a taste of her allure, and Alastor was eager to share.

As the lights dimmed, anticipation crackled, and a hush swept over the crowd. The stage bathed in a soft, seductive glow, and a striking sinner emerged, her silhouette draped in a deep red sequin dress that caught the light like shimmering embers. She gripped the microphone with effortless grace, her voice emerging as a breathy caress that wove through the jazzy notes, wrapping around each listener like a lover’s embrace.

The audience was spellbound, whistling and hollering, their enthusiasm palpable. Her body was a work of art—every curve and contour mesmerizing, her face a fascinating blend of beauty and mischief. But her voice, a sultry hymn that stirred something primal in the hearts of all present, truly captivated them.

How envious they would be if they knew that this intoxicating siren, whose soft melodies filled the room, would soon be screaming and begging in ecstasy between the two most powerful beings of hell.

As her set unfolded, each song seemed to heighten Lucifer’s intrigue. His eyes were glued to her as she danced with a sultry confidence, the sequins of her dress glinting and shimmering until, by the last number, it transformed into a daring bodysuit that left little to the imagination.

“She wears that when we meet her in the back…” Alastor’s warm breath ghosted over Lucifer’s neck, a stark contrast to the cool shivers that coursed down his spine at the sound of her voice. Nodding helplessly, Lucifer surrendered to the enchantment, finally understanding why Alastor had been so drawn to this woman, even without sharing a bed.

As Mimzy took the stage to gently usher away the hopeful souls desperate for the sinner’s attention, Alastor felt a thrill of anticipation. Tonight wasn’t just about his time with Y/N but about witnessing the intoxicating dance between Lucifer and this mesmerizing enchantress. 

The night was still young, and the promise of passion loomed just around the corner, ready to unfold in a symphony of desire and exploration.

Helping Lucifer to his feet, Alastor guided him toward the VIP section of Mimzy's club, the air thick with anticipation and the heady scent of desire. As they entered, they were greeted by a living tapestry of beauty and seduction—Y/N and several other enchanting women glided gracefully between tables, their laughter and whispers mingling with the sultry jazz that filled the room. The atmosphere was electric, charged with the soft sounds of debauchery, a siren call for those ready to indulge.

Alastor felt a primal thrill surge through him; if Lucifer felt the same magnetic pull toward Y/N, he was ready to bring her home with them—Mimzy's rules be damned. Lucifer sank into one of the plush green armchairs, enveloped in comfort, while Alastor stood protectively behind him, his hand resting gently on his shoulder.

When Y/N locked eyes with them, it was as if a spark ignited between them. She was adorned in her stunning deep red sequin bodysuit, each facet glimmering as she moved. Her black strappy heels accentuated her long legs, and a bright red boa draped around her arms like a lover’s embrace. 

Lucifer's thoughts spiraled into delicious fantasies of restraint and pleasure, envisioning all the ways he could tie her up, making her plead for his attention. Meanwhile, Alastor couldn't help but imagine the intoxicating sight of Lucifer and this captivating woman beneath him, utterly powerless and exquisite.

As she approached, Y/N gracefully settled onto Lucifer’s lap, her chest tantalizingly close to his face, and glanced up at Alastor with a playful pout on her candied lips. 

“Oh, so he’s the one you brag about, Ali… He is handsome… such pretty porcelain skin…” Her perfectly manicured nails traced a delicate path down Lucifer’s cheek to the bowtie around his neck, tugging playfully.

The tension in Lucifer’s pants grew unbearable as he emitted a low growl, gripping the sides of his chair tightly to restrain himself from taking her right then and there. 

“Alastor has spoken of you often, Miss Y/N, yet your beauty transcends mere words…” His voice was rich and husky, the evidence of his arousal only fueling her desires as she shifted, straddling him with a sultry grace.

“Hmmm, Ali seems to do a lot of talking. I am more of an actions woman myself.” She ran her hands along Lucifer’s arms, guiding them to her hips, her body pressing against him. A sweet, delicate moan escaped her lips as she ground against his growing need.

“My, my, you two! Had I known this visceral reaction would happen, I would have introduced you sooner,” Alastor said, his desire flaring hotter by the second. 

She declined whenever he asked Y/N to be his courtesan, claiming Mimzy offered her everything she needed. But tonight, with Lucifer alongside him, he hoped to show her an unforgettable experience that would change her mind.

Mimzy approached, a playful smile dancing on her lips. “My, my, Alastor, planning to steal my most profitable soul by bringing your boy toy along?”

Alastor smirked, gently taking Y/N’s hand from Lucifer’s shoulder helping her to stand. As she rose, he assisted Lucifer, who was flushed and visibly aroused. 

“Now, Mimzy, a real broker, doesn’t show all his cards right away,” Alastor teased, leading Y/N down the hallway toward her room. “We’ll be where I always end up when I visit.”

Y/N’s room was a sanctuary, secluded from the revelry of the club. Mimzy had taken special care to craft a space where her siren voice could enchant without distraction. As they entered, the ruby-red room was aglow with candlelight, casting soft shadows that danced across the walls.

“Hmmm, I hope you two like it,” she purred, pulling away from the men as she sauntered deeper into her domain. Her movements were languid hypnotic, and both men followed her with hungry eyes. She settled onto the bed, legs crossed, leaning back with a flirtatious head tilt.

“Alastor told me we would have company, so I pulled out a nice chair if someone wants to watch.” Her gaze locked onto Alastor, memories of their conversations about wanting to witness the passionate connection between him and Lucifer swirling in the air.

Alastor brushed past Lucifer before he could speak with a knowing smile, unbuttoning his tailcoat and flaring it behind him as he sat in the plush armchair. A lazy, lust-filled smile spread across his face, ready to indulge in the exquisite scene unfolding before him.

"Go ahead, my dear. She is all yours...for now." Once permission was granted, it was as if a dam had broken. Lucifer approached, his heart racing as he followed the sultry path the woman had taken to her bed. Standing before her, he gazed down at her alluring, half-naked form, the soft glow of candlelight accentuating every curve.

She looked up at him, her eyes ablaze with a fire rivaling the depths of hell. Slowly, Lucifer reached for the boa that draped around her shoulders, his fingers brushing against her skin as he pulled it into his hands, feeling the luxurious fabric slip through his fingers.

"Look at me. Don’t stop looking into my eyes. Right now, you are mine, all mine, so just give in to me." She nodded, entranced by his words, surrendering as he guided her gently down onto the plush bed.

“Hmmm, do be gentle with her, Lucifer. I plan to ravish you both the moment you have your fill.” The playful threat hung in the air, a compelling promise that sent shivers down their spines. Both panting softly, they exchanged heated glances. Lucifer preferred his first time with someone to be slow, savoring each moment.

With a delicate touch, he tied her hands gently with her boa, his fingers gliding down her body, eliciting soft trembles and shudders that only intensified the growing desire within him. Kneeling between her legs, he made sure Alastor could see every intimate moment unfolding.

Lucifer lifted her left leg, placed it on his shoulder, and kissed his way up her inner thigh, taking his time to savor her. Each kiss drew forth beautiful moans. Her lips parted slightly, releasing warm, misty breaths that hung in the air like an intoxicating perfume. Once he finished with the left leg, he mirrored his attentions on the right, each kiss a sweet torment.

With her hands bound, she couldn't tangle her fingers in his hair or grip his arms; she was entirely at his mercy. As he playfully nipped at her ankle, a small drop of blood pooled, and he licked it away, sending a thrill of sensation coursing through her, making her moan once more.

Alastor watched with a smirk, enjoying the sight of her unraveling, whether from the thrill of being watched or the raw power of Lucifer. He relished the pleasure blooming on both their faces.

Lucifer pulled back slightly, leaving her to whine in frustration. He teased, removing his tailcoat and tossing it aside with a flourish. Each pop elicited soft whimpers from her as he unbuttoned his bow tie and vest. “Y/N, you follow orders so well. No wonder Alastor likes you so much; he always loves to give commands.” 

As the last button of his dress shirt came undone, he let himself fall gently atop her, supporting himself with his forearms beside her head. “So beautiful, blissed out, and I haven’t touched you yet. It’s true, you know, as Al said… I can change how big and thick it is on a whim, make you feel things you’ve never felt before.” Her eyes widened, a soft gasp escaping her lips as his words ignited her imagination. 

“Hmmm, how would you like it to be that deep inside you? Rearranging your very insides?” He kissed her neck as he spoke, feeling her breath quicken beneath him. The contrast of his dirty words and sweet actions sent her spiraling into a realm of ecstasy she had never known.

“I think she would like that, Luci. She hasn’t even experienced my appendages yet; I’m sure that will prepare her nicely.” Alastor’s smirk was palpable as he slowly unbuttoned his shirt, the air thickening with anticipation.

Lucifer sat back on his haunches, eradicating his shirt, revealing his porcelain muscles glistening in the dim light. His soft, yellowed face reflected how utterly captivated he was by her. He undid his pants, kicking them off to reveal his desire, hidden only by a thin layer of fabric.

“Mhm, Lucifer, please... I want it...” Her voice was a sultry whisper, a plea that sent a rush through both men. She had only begged for a handful of guests, but Lucifer's power left her mind reeling, imagining how it would feel to have both of them at once.

“I haven’t even touched you yet, beautiful, and you already want my length inside you. How pitiful. Should I give it to you, Dolly?” He slid the zipper of her bodysuit down her back, knowing they both craved this connection, the thrilling anticipation of feeling one another before being taken by Alastor.

"Yes, please, please take me, then Ali, and you can play with me too..." Her voice was like music to both men's ears as the sentence caused both to moan deeply.

Alastor had eradicated his shirt, his dress pants opened, and his girthy cock out on display. Gentle, soft strokes from his hand as he continued to observe.

Lucifer had the bodysuit off and on the floor, Y/N's bare, beautiful body before him. He kissed her all over, avoiding the one place she needed him most. Letting a hot puff of air cover her sopping-wet pussy.

Finally, Lucifer allowed a hand to grace her folds and gather the slick that was pouring from her entrance. Rubbing her clit gently but at a firm pace, he watched her back arch, and her face contort in pleasure.

"Good girl, such a good girl, let go for me...need you nice and wet for me to fuck you." She babbled and nodded her high climbing. He added his other hand and worked her through not one but two orgasms with his hands alone.

To the side, Alastor moaned deeply at the sight. He couldn't lie. Lucifer was not just good with his forked tongue, but his hands, that of a creator could do magic all on their own. As he watched the slick cover Lucifer's thighs, he struggled to contain himself from going over there and taking them both.

Lucifer pulled away as your recent orgasm washed over you. He loved how your eyes rolled back and your tongue lulled gently out of your mouth. He released his length from his boxers, and he wasn't lying about his changing length.

Before both of your eyes, he had gotten longer and wider as he lined up at your dripping wet hole. Slowly, he entered and, with no patience to wait, bottomed out in you in one thrust.

Your beautiful scream turned moan had both demonic men alter to their demon forms as they listened to your pleas. Lucifer led your legs to his shoulders. As you hooked them behind his ears, he began at a brutal pace.

You felt him hit places that no other patron had hit before. Your eyes were lost in the back of your head as you babbled and begged for more.

The squelching sounds in the room only grew more rampant as Lucifer climbed to his peak. His words of praise and affirmation only spurred you both on.

Alastor growled demonically beside you two as he watched you both become undone. His possessive nature climbed to its rightful place as you both screamed in ecstasy.

Lucifer gently pulled out as soon as you were filled to the brim with his golden seed. He admired how beautifully he leaked out of you. Holding your legs up where they were around him just moments before, he looked at his partner and nodded him over.

"Come look at how pretty gold looks in her..." Alastor hummed; as he stood, his length was fully erect, and he slid off his pants. Climbing in the bed behind his partner, he leaned over his shoulder to look at your cunt.

"Hmmm, truly beautiful Y/N, my sweet boy made you so dirty. Lucifer, flip her around and clean her up, will you." Lucifer nodded and helped get you on your hands and knees. As he lay between your legs, he guided you down on his face and began to devour you.

Once your mouth opened to moan at the overstimulation, Alastor had his cock buried in your throat. He held your hair tight, forcing you to look up at him through your teary eyelashes.

"mhm, look at you, Y/N, you look so beautiful fucked out like this, with Lucifer's pretty face buried in you. Even more beautiful with my cock down your throat" Alastor gripped you tighter as his horns grew larger, and some black slimy tendrils appeared around him.

Your eyes widened as he caressed your face, and the moan on your pussy alerted you that he was also caressing Lucifer.

"Mhm, both of you will be good for me now, and I will give you a treat," Lucifer and you moan, nodding softly as Alastor's tendrils explore your bodies. The more curious of the black slime teasing your ass and gripping around Lucifer's hardening cock.

Alastor guided your head on his cock roughly, gaining more and more speed as he chased his high. The force of his thrust down your throat causes you to rub yourself on Lucifer's face more, making a moaning mess out of both of you.

As climax fast approached for Alastor, he stilled you. He let his cock sit deep in your mouth, a sinister smile painted on his face.

"Bite down, and I will kill you, understand," Before you had time to react to Alastors words, a cold, slimy tendril was entering your ass. Your eyes widened as more tears filled them from the way you were expanded. Once you were full, Alastor began to pump in you again.

Lucifer was gasping and crying under you; Alastor not only had a tendril stroking his cock tightly to mimic your sweet pussy, but he had two holding his legs up and apart so another one could enter him as well.

You were overstimulated and covered in sweat and sex. You had never felt so full and desired. As Alstor used your face and fucked Lucifer into eating you harder, it all became too much for you three.

Before long, three long moans exited you all, static popped, music played, and screams were heard. Each of your complete demon forms taking precedence from the shattering orgasms that filled you all.

Lucifer's cock throbbing from spilling two loads, had managed to cum down your whole back and ass. You covered Lucifer's face in your juices as overstimulation sent you over the edge. Alastor had you covered in his seed from your head to your chin, using his clawed hands to gather some and shove it in your mouth.

Once the appendages melted away, you felt a rush of exhaustion consume you as the suffocating boa constraint was removed. You were laid gently between Lucifer and Alastor, two figures who felt familiar and exhilaratingly dangerous. 

Lucifer's warm and gentle hands tangled in your hair, combing through the tousled mess that echoed the wild night you had shared. His touch was soothing, starkly contrasting to Alastor's, whose fingers danced dangerously across your hip, tracing intricate patterns that sent shivers through your body.

As dawn's first light crept into the room, casting a soft glow over the remnants of your night together, you began to pack your belongings. The once vibrant space now felt barren, stripped of its life in anticipation of the next woman who might step into your place as Mimzy's best voice. Yet, as you folded clothes and gathered trinkets, you realized your actual place was not on a stage basking in the spotlight. No, your heart sang harmoniously with these two men, creating a more intimate and profound melody.

"Come on, you two," Alastor urged cooly, a grin spreading across his face. "We don’t have all day! The sooner we return to the hotel, the sooner we can go for round two." 

Lucifer’s eyes sparkled with mischief at Alastor's teasing words. With a gentle squeeze of your hand, he led you toward your new beginning, an uncharted territory filled with promise and passion, where the music of your souls could intertwine once more.

[snaileer]

Call to my Bedside - 3

Part 1:

When Maddie wakes up with chains around her wrists and a pounding her head, she is surprised to see her family in front of her.

As she blinks in the darkness, ignoring the way her eyes won’t focus, her surprise gradually washes into fast-paced terror.

It’s not just her family in front of her, but also her children’s friends. Her son’s friends.

But her son is nowhere to be seen. Amongst the grime and dinge of the space, there is no unruly mass of black hair.

She counts again. 1, 2-

1, 2,-

Her son exists as a group of three to her.

Jazzy, Jack, and Danny.

Tucker Foley, Sam Manson, and Danny.

But- she counts again.

1, 2-  1, 2-

Her son is not here. Danny is not here.

Her family is injured, Jazz and Jack in one cell and the kids in another, her in yet one more, and her son is missing.

Maddie tries to remember what happened, why she is injured, where they are, why-

There were people, she had fought them, all black clothes and blades, Jazz had come downstairs at the sound, Jack had defended her, Maddie watched them both go down under a blow, the distraction enough- Danny had never come home from school.

Her husband starts to rouse, a low groan.

“Jack.” She whispers harshly, “Jack!”

“Maddie-kins?” Jack mumbles, trying to push himself upright but stumbling when he realizes his hands are bound together by manacles.

His are not chained to the wall like her own, but they are still heavy steel.

“I’m here Jack, I’m alright,” She can see him turn to her in the dim light, “Banged up, but alright.”

Indignant anger flashes across her husband’s face, “Who did this? What happened-those people!” Jack increasingly gets louder, “The ninja people! They got past our ghost barrier-!”

“They’re not ghosts, hun,” Maddie cuts in, making him look over.

Some of his righteous exuberance fades, “Then why..?”

Maddie shakes her head, immediately regretting it, headache increasing as she tries to talk, “I don’t know. But Jack, Danny’s not here, I don’t know where he is, but he never came home, something’s wrong-“

“Danno!” Jack yells, looking frantically over the group through the bars between them.

Finally, his volume seems to rouse the others. Sam and Tucker both wake with a lurch, Jazz soon on their heels with a groan.

“Danny!” Sam yells, looking around them, “They got Danny!”

“And my tech!” Tucker yells, hands patting himself down.

Sam glares at him, “That’s what you’re worrying about?!”

“What, like having a satellite capable PDA wouldn’t be helpful right now!? Danny told us to run, you’re the one who made us stay-!”

“We weren’t gonna leave him-“

“Oh well look at us now, we’re not doing much better than-“

“Kids!” Maddie yells, and their heads snap over to her, “What are you talking about? Where’s Danny?”

For some reason they both seem to glance at Jazz before answering, receiving a hesitant nod.

Sam started, “We don’t know where he is now, but we were walking home and something exploded-“

“We thought it was just another ghost attack!” Tucker cut in, looking increasingly distressed, “But then Danny was fighting off these freaky ninja people, and telling us to run-“

“But we couldn’t just leave him there! We tried to help-

“There were so many, and they grabbed us and then we saw them grab Danny and…-“ Tucker stopped, looking down at the chains on his wrists, “And then we woke up here…Mrs.Fenton, where are we?”

“I don’t know, hun,” Maddie looked at her son’s friend, then to her own daughter, her husband, “But we’ll figure it out. And then we’re going to find Danny.”

Jack beamed at her, his trust in her confidence shining through.

She wished she believed it even half as much.

——

The first time they come, a group of five people, still dressed in black, weapons lining their body, Maddie yells and shouts. Demands they tell her where Danny is. They are silent.

They methodically go to each of their cells in pairs, one pointing a gun and the other setting down a bag of food. Military rations.

She screams and yells the entire time.

When they go to Maddie’s cell last, removing one arm from her shackles so she can eat, she takes advantage, lashing out with a yell and just as much anger as vicious desperation.

She punches the one nearest, a sloppy front kick displacing the other’s gun pointed at her.

Before she can attack again, one arm still pulled back to the wall behind her, the click of a safety coming off silences her.

The rest of the chapter is thru Ao3, cuz Tumblr says its too long. *^*

Tags:

@thecrystallabyrinth @isnt-that-grape @riverdancingwerewolves @mimblizzy @chaos-deimos-et-eris @miraculousandmore2 @mys-tia @jitteryjuttury @moonlight-opal @nerdypaintbrush @thedragonqueen1998 @luminanightfall @cowarddragon @cyrwrites @kamireadsmcu @manapeer @imaginationmademanifest

[whatcoloristhatcat]

This is Jazzy. He is a confusing beast who I can not identify. I think he is a cat but I know not much else. Can you help

is cat 📝👍

seal mink with low white spotting!

[donospl]

Co w jazzie piszczy [sezon 2 odcinek 3]

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