#Ooh that's lovely. I need to see how all that would look in motion

[salaimoi]

“Ooo look! Doesn’t that one look just like us?” You exclaim while pointing your index finger to the baby-blue sky above you, a beaming smile tugging at your lips.

Ryomen Sukuna's eyes followed your leading hand, squinting once they had reached the two potato-like clouds you were pointing to. For a moment, he thought his vision was finally betraying him after 1,000 years-and-counting of being alive; that blob of air did not look like him in the slightest.

With two folded arms resting behind his head, he attempted to find a way to nicely break it to you that a measly cotton ball rip-off did not, in fact, coincide with his looks.

“How on Earth does that resemble me, woman?” He replied, a third hand petting your head as you comfortably rested against his chest.

You could hear the rhythmic heartbeat coming from under you, pounding softly against your ear as if you were holding a stethoscope to his body. A hum escapes your throat, playing alongside the pulsating melody he emitted.

“Maybe you’re not looking hard enough~”

Sukuna rolls his eyes in response, not having it with your teasing today. Bold of you to question his words, reckless, but nonetheless bold.

“I assure you,” he reiterated, ruffling your hair before his eyesight returned to the heavens above, “something as pathetic and feeble as a cloud is not something I’d compare myself to, you brat.”

He was only teasing you right back, but just like he expected, your expression had already dampened with disappointment. There was a feigned pout on your face as you glanced up at him — nonverbally speaking volumes the longer you held eye contact.

He knew you always dragged him on these silly sightseeing dates (not that he’d ever call them that) because you enjoyed seeing a softer side of his personality. It was silly of you to think he’d ever allow you to bear witness to such a thing — if he ever had it in the first place — but this time around, it seemed like you finally achieved what you so desperately desired.

“But,” he adds in an attempt to soften the blow, his hand reaching down towards your face so he could caress your cheek. The defeated man sighed one last time after falling victim to your guilt-tripping puppy eyes, internally questioning his entire existence from what was about to come out of his mouth.

“A cloud so… fluffy… and appealing,” he describes the thing hesitantly — for lack of better words, “is one I would use to describe you.”

Your ears perk up at the statement, the pretend pout from earlier quickly replaced by a smug grin.

“Oh my gosh what was that – I’m so sorry my ears must’ve missed it. Can you please say that again?”

In a not-so-innocent manner, you batted your eyelashes at the man, which was only met with a blank expression on the verge of breaking. He would’ve probably replied with something along the lines of, ‘bitch, are you deaf?’ Alas, the benevolent Sukuna himself decided to let you have this one — just this once.

‘Ahem!’ he cleared his throat to make sure you got his message this time around. “A cumulus pales in comparison to your beauty, little one.”

Rubbing tiny circles into your cheek, his gaze remained fixated on the two stupid clouds that set this whole absurd scene in motion. Silence befalls the conversation for a moment, your ears in disbelief at his words. Adding anything else would’ve probably single-handedly undone the atmosphere you worked so hard on creating, so you silently took this win… even if only for a few seconds.

“You totally have a crush on me, don’t you?”

“Need I file for divorce so you’ll quit spewing nonsense all the time?”

“Ooh so you’re in love! Even better~”

[skzdust]

You Love It When I'm Bringing You Hell

SMUT. MINORS DNI.

To the person who inspired this: hope you like xx

Hope the rest of you like too ;) This is a sequel to I Want You To Want For Me

Title from "Complex" by Xana.

Summary: You and Minho have another day where you're entirely his.

Pairing: Lee Know x Reader

Includes: free use, shower sex, kitchen sex, fingering, clit stimulation, chef Minho, riding, begging, EDGING, sharpies teehee

Word count: 1.5k

Taglist (Comment on a post/send an ask if you'd like to be added): @weirdowithaphone, @caught-in-the-afterglow, @palindrome969, @skzstan12345, @katsukis1wife,

@hyunjinsjeans, @somethingkindazainy, @silverstarburst, @atzlordz, @jeonginsleftcheek

Network:@mirohs-aurora-society

Reblogs, likes, comments all appreciated!!!

Masterlist

-----

You tested the shower with your hand, feeling how hot it was. You were satisfied with the scorching temperature, so you got in, closing your eyes and letting yourself relax.

Your shower was your favorite part of your morning routine. You loved feeling clean to start off the day, and the hot water felt so nice.

Your eyes flew open as the bathroom door opened. You peeked past the curtain. “Hello?”

“Hi, baby.” Minho was standing there, taking off his shirt. Your eyes went wide as you saw his chest.

“Joining me?”

“Yeah.” He looked at you, his smile falling. “You’re mine today, remember?”

You had, in fact, remembered. You’d been counting down to it, in fact.

“Yeah.”

“I’ll be right there.” He waved at you, and you got back into the water, trying for about two seconds to breathe and ignore the sensations rushing to your pussy at the thought of what was about to happen. But then Minho stepped into the shower, his cock already hard, and you threw that idea out the window.

You met his eyes, and he put a hand behind your head, stroking the hair behind your ear for a second. His face was tender, and you were almost fooled for a second that he wasn’t going to rail you within an inch of your life.

Minho’s hand slid down, behind your neck, and he pulled you into a kiss. You moaned softly, opening your mouth so he could lick into it.

His other hand moved to your waist, then started to trail further down until he was gently circling your clit.

“Ugh, Minho.” You moaned. “Need more.”

“The way I see it, I get to set the pace.” He said with a snicker. “And you’re gonna be patient for now.”

He continued to kiss you, his hand tangling in your hair, pulling at it harder until your moans had grown from soft to desperate. “Minho…”

“Calm down.” He murmured. “Be a good girl for me and be patient.”

Your body was growing hotter and hotter, and it got even worse as he pushed a finger inside you. You felt so tightly coiled that perhaps just the right motion from Minho would have you coming. You hoped it would, you hoped he’d send you over the edge, holding you close and continuing to kiss you. You’d moan into his mouth as you came, and he’d stroke your hair, and—

He pulled his fingers out of you, smirking. “You were close, weren’t you?”

“Shut up and let me cum!” You whined.

“Ah-ah, that’s not what an obedient slut says.” He licked his fingers off, then held them up to the water to wash your remaining juices off. “A good girl doesn’t talk back.”

“I—”

“No.” He said firmly. “No. You don’t disagree with me.” He stepped out of the shower, and you were worried for a second he was genuinely mad. You bit your lip.

“I’m gonna leave a sharpie here. Put a tally above your left hip.” He said, and you could hear the smile in his voice.

“What’s that for?”

“The amount of times you’ve been edged today.”

You shivered, despite the heat of the water.

—

You were sitting in the living room, reading your book, when an amazing smell began to waft out of the kitchen.

“Minho, what are you making?”

“Come in here!”

You walked into the other room, smiling as you saw your chef of a boyfriend stirring something on the stove. “Ooh, what’s that?”

“Pasta recipe of my own invention. Can you do some dishes for me real quick?”

“Yeah, of course.” You rolled up your sleeves and went to the sink, noting a few bowls that had already been stacked in it.

A few minutes later, you heard the burner click off, and the clink of metal as Minho moved the pot.

“Is it ready?” You looked over at him.

“It just has to sit for a second.” He smiled. “So we should do something for a second.”

You knew exactly what Minho wanted. “You know, I think I should try to get these dishes done.”

He shrugged. “Fine by me.”

You returned to the sink, but soon there were arms encircling your waist, and Minho was kissing up your neck. “Just because you want to do dishes doesn’t mean I can’t have some fun.”

You sighed as he bit a hickey into the soft skin of your shoulder. “Fuck, Minho.”

He continued to tease you for a little longer before you could feel his cock at your entrance. “Please.”

“Please what?” He teased.

“Please fuck me.” You whispered.

“Oh, well, we wouldn’t want the food getting cold, and the dishes seem to be done.” You could feel him pull back, and hear the zipper of his fly.

“I hate you.” You groaned.

“No, you don’t. Come on, lets’ have lunch!”

You rolled your eyes, but joined him at the table.

“By the way,” he said as he set down your bowl, “put a tally for that one. I know it’s not quite edging, but close enough, right?”

—

“Minho!” You called into the other room. “Help me pick the movie, I don’t know what to watch.”

He walked in, holding a bowl of popcorn. “It’s your night to pick, I can’t help you.”

“Yes, you literally can.”

“No, I literally can’t.” He laid down next to you, propping the popcorn between you.

“Please?”

“Just put something on, baby.”

You sighed and picked something from your watchlist that looked vaguely interesting, some fantasy art heist thing.

As the opening credits started, you snuck a glance at Minho. He looked alert, like he was waiting for something.

You reached for the popcorn, and suddenly he was on top of you, his knees on either side of your hips.

He reached for the hem of your shirt, pulling it up to reveal the two tally marks on your left hip: one from the shower, one from the kitchen. “This is too few.” He mused.

“No, actually, I think it’s too many, don’t I deserve to come?” You raised your eyebrows.

“And that is exactly why you don’t deserve to come.” He smirked. “Someone hasn’t learned anything.”

He got off of you, laying down on his back where he’d been before. “Ride me.”

You didn’t have to be told twice. You hurried to pull your skirt up, and you hadn’t bothered with underwear all day. Minho unzipped his pants, but left you to do the rest. Your hands shook as you pulled them and his boxers down.

He was hard, as he had been all night. You sank down on his cock with a loud moan. “Fuck.”

“Yeah, that’s a good slut.” He breathed. “So tight around me, fuck.”

You began to move up and down, fucking yourself on his cock. He reached so deep inside you, you whined and moaned with each movement.

“Feel good?” He asked, reaching over to touch your thigh.

“Yes.” You panted.

“Good, tell me when you’re close.”

You continued to ride him, and he continued to comment.

“Good little slut.”

“Pretty thing, keep going for me.”

“So fucking tight for me.”

You were so into it you were on the edge before you knew it. “Minho, I’m going to come.”

“Stop.” He said, and you paused where you were.

“What?”

He looked at you like it was obvious. “You’re not allowed to come.”

“Aw, please?”

He laughed. “You’ll have to beg better than that if you really want it.”

“Please.” You whimpered. “Please, Minho, can I cum? Please? I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

He considered for a moment. “Hm, fine, I’ll let you come if you can edge yourself five times.”

“Five?”

He nodded. “Anything, right?”

You whined. “Fine, five times.”

By two, your knees were dead, so Minho flipped you over and began to fuck into you himself, biting your neck and shoulders as he went. You moaned and shivered under his attentions, pushing your hips up into him. “Jesus, Minho, more…”

He made a tally himself on your hip every time you lost an orgasm. It felt like an eternity, but you got up to five, making seven total.

“Please, can I cum now?” You begged, shaking under the duress of being edged five times.

“Yes, you’ve been so good for me.” He leaned down to kiss your forehead, and you smiled.

“Thank you, Minho.”

“‘Course, baby.”

He fucked you even harder than he had before, his hand coming down to play with your clit.

Your orgasm hit quickly, washing over you like a tide. You moaned and writhed on the bed, and it felt like fireworks were going off all through you.

You fell limp. “So good.”

He kissed you gently, still inside you. “Beautiful girl. I’m glad you feel good.”

You felt him draw a mark on your right hip, and then he pulled back and kept going. “Now, we’re going to see if we can get those numbers to match.”

You moaned as he began to fuck you again.

[chillypowder]

Powder Blue

Pairing: Jinx (Powder) x Reader

Fandom: Arcane (League of Legends)

Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Act 3 Healing Vibes

Word Count: ~2.5k

Warnings: Mentions of emotional vulnerability, brief discussions of chaos and destruction (Jinx being Jinx). Overall, it’s a soft and tender piece meant to heal your heart.

Summary:

Zaun isn’t known for its quiet moments, but you’ve always found them with her—whether she’s Jinx, Powder, or the storm in between. After everything she’s been through, you’re her anchor, her “sunshine,” even when she insists she’s the thundercloud. Tonight, beneath the smog-filled sky of the Undercity, you remind her that stars, no matter how hidden, never burn out—and neither does she.

Notes:

This is for all the Arcane lovers who were emotionally wrecked after Acts 2 and 3 (raises hand). I wanted to write something soft and dreamlike, like the kind of fluff you fall into after a heavy rainstorm. Jinx deserves peace and someone who reminds her that she’s more than her chaos. Reader is gender-neutral and full of love. Let’s heal together!

The air smells of ash and copper, but it’s soft, almost like the remnants of fireworks in a summer sky. Zaun always had a way of making things feel heavy, like the weight of a smog-filled sky pressing down on you, but tonight? Tonight feels different. Tonight, she’s here.

Jinx.

Or maybe she’s still Powder to you, even now. You’ve never been able to pick a side, not when it came to her. Not when her eyes, burning with chaos and brilliance, find you across the workshop you’ve quietly tucked yourself into for the evening.

“Hey, sunshine.” Her voice rings like a melody, mismatched and full of energy, dragging you from your thoughts before you can start wallowing. The door slams shut behind her, and her boots clink against the uneven floor. She’s bouncing on the heels of her feet, a grin that doesn’t quite reach her eyes spreading wide as she leans against your desk. “What’re ya doing in here all alone? Didn’t you miss me?”

You blink, still caught between the memory of who she used to be and the whirlwind she’s become. It hurts sometimes, like a pinprick in your chest, but tonight you push it aside. Because if there’s one thing you’ve learned, it’s that Jinx needs your steadiness. Needs the quiet you offer when her head gets too loud.

“Just working on something,” you reply, your voice soft, a balm to her usual sharpness. You motion to the half-finished contraption on the table—a little music box that you thought might make her smile. You don’t tell her it’s for her, though. Not yet.

She tilts her head, her pigtails swaying with the motion, a curious glint sparking in her eyes. “Ooh, what’s that? It looks... fiddly.” Her fingers twitch as if resisting the urge to grab it and take it apart. Jinx has always been like this—a hurricane with hands, tearing things apart to see how they work, only to put them back together in ways no one else would ever dream of.

“It’s... not finished yet,” you say, moving it out of her reach before she can snatch it up.

She pouts, her lips curving downward, and it’s almost enough to undo you. “You’re no fun,” she mutters, but there’s no bite in her words. Instead, she slides onto the desk next to you, her long legs swinging over the edge as she watches you with that unnervingly intense gaze of hers.

You let the silence settle between you for a moment, comfortable despite the unspoken things hanging in the air. The hum of Zaun’s machinery rumbles softly in the background, a lullaby of gears and steam.

“How was your day?” you ask eventually, glancing up at her.

Her grin widens, almost too wide, and she starts talking—fast and animated, her words tumbling over each other as she recounts her latest escapade. Something about a heist, explosions, and narrowly escaping one of Piltover’s enforcers. You know you should probably scold her, tell her to be careful, but the way she lights up when she talks about it makes it impossible.

“And then, boom!” she says, throwing her arms out dramatically. “The whole thing went up in flames! You should’ve seen it—it was beautiful!”

You raise an eyebrow, unable to keep the fond smile from tugging at your lips. “Beautiful, huh?”

“Yeah, like... like a firework,” she says, her voice softening just a little. Her eyes drift to you, and for a moment, something vulnerable flickers in their depths. “You like fireworks, don’t you?”

You nod. “They remind me of you.”

Her head tilts again, and for once, she doesn’t try to hide the way her cheeks flush pink. “Tch. You’re so cheesy.”

“You love it.”

“Maybe,” she says, her grin returning full force. But there’s a softness there now, a quiet understanding that settles in her features like a shadow. She reaches out suddenly, her hand brushing against yours where it rests on the desk. Her fingers are calloused, scarred, but warm. “Thanks,” she says, almost too quiet for you to hear.

“For what?”

“For... I don’t know. For putting up with me, I guess.” She shrugs, like it’s no big deal, but you can feel the weight of her words. She’s always been bad at saying how she feels, always hiding behind laughter and chaos, but you’ve learned to read between the lines.

“You don’t have to thank me for that,” you say, your voice steady. “You’re not something I have to ‘put up with,’ Jinx.”

Her eyes flicker down to the floor, and for a moment, you think she might argue, might push you away like she’s done so many times before. But instead, she stays quiet, her fingers still brushing against yours.

It’s a small thing, barely noticeable, but it feels like a victory.

The night stretches on, and somehow you end up on the rooftop, the city sprawled out below you like a broken mosaic of light and shadow. Jinx is lying on her back next to you, her arms stretched out above her head as she stares up at the smog-covered sky.

“Do you think the stars are still up there?” she asks suddenly, her voice softer than you’ve ever heard it.

You glance at her, surprised by the question. “Of course they are.”

She hums, her eyes half-lidded. “I dunno. Feels like they might’ve all burned out by now, y’know? With how dark it’s gotten.”

You don’t know what to say to that, so you stay quiet, your gaze drifting upward. The sky is heavy with smoke and pollution, the stars hidden behind layers of grime, but you like to think they’re still there, waiting.

Jinx shifts beside you, rolling onto her side so she’s facing you. “You ever think about leaving this place?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

You turn to look at her, your heart clenching at the vulnerability in her expression. “Sometimes,” you admit. “But not without you.”

Her eyes widen, just a fraction, and for a moment, you think you’ve said the wrong thing. But then she laughs, a soft, breathless sound that makes your chest ache. “You’re such a sap,” she says, but there’s no malice in her tone. If anything, she sounds... touched.

“Maybe,” you say, a small smile tugging at your lips. “But I mean it.”

She stares at you for a long moment, her eyes searching yours like she’s trying to find the cracks in your sincerity. But you’ve never lied to her, not once, and you won’t start now.

Finally, she sighs, flopping onto her back again. “You’re gonna be the death of me, sunshine,” she mutters, but there’s a hint of a smile in her voice.

The night ends with her falling asleep against your shoulder, her breathing soft and even as the weight of the day finally catches up to her. You stay still, not wanting to wake her, and let your eyes drift shut as well.

For a moment, everything feels okay.

And for now, that’s enough.

The music box sits on her desk the next morning, finished and polished to perfection. When she wakes, groggy and blinking against the morning light, her eyes land on it, and you watch as her expression shifts from confusion to wonder.

She picks it up carefully, like it might shatter in her hands, and when she winds it up, the soft melody fills the room—a song she used to hum when you were kids, back before everything fell apart.

She doesn’t say anything, but when she looks at you, her eyes are shining, and for the first time in a long time, you see a piece of Powder there.

“Thank you,” she says, and this time, you know she means it.

You smile, reaching out to brush a strand of blue hair from her face. “Always.”

Masterlist

[temis-de-leon]

Love potion and OM! Brothers - Part 2

Characters: Satan, Asmo, Beel and Belphie (x reader, separately)

Intro , Part 1 , Part 3

Masterlist

CW: fluff, a tiny little bit suggestive, Belphie's a brat (aren't we all surprised), brothers crushing hard and MC implied to be crushing hard too, pre-established relationship

A/N: Just like in other posts, I can't seem to be able to properly tag some of you :(

.

Satan

How could he see the cat from his seat by the window, Satan didn’t know, but he would be crazy if he ever let go of the opportunity to pet one. The only thing he could think of before rushing out was grabbing you and some treats and hope the kitten was still there by the time you arrived.

He could feel his excitement buzzing in his chest when he knocked your door, but no sound came in return. He sent you a message, growing impatient and pacing in the hallway until he entered your room with determination.

“MC! Cat alert! I need help to sneak him in!”

Your smell was strong, but you didn’t seem to be in the room. Weird. However, it didn’t take him long to realize it was actually coming from the cauldron.

Satan got closer, temporarily forgetting about the cat while he studied the glittery liquid or, rather, holographic. He moved the spoon, humming when it reflected the warm light of the candles in a fluid motion. The smell was delicious, but it didn’t resemble any food he could think of. Actually, it reminded him of the Royal Library and the cat café you both visited after your study sessions.

Soft, shimmering, appealing.

A love potion? What were you doing, MC? Trying to enchant somebody?

He could tell you had left before finishing your project, otherwise, the essence would be stronger. Satan wondered if whatever you smelt reminded you of him in any sort of way. Maybe his cologne? Or the smell of treats and old books that plagued his room?

The brief thought of adding a strand of his hair crossed his mind, but he quickly erased it. He loved you and he wanted you to love him, yes, but he’d be damned if he forced those feelings. You taught him love and affection, allowing him to experience every word he’d ever read in his romance books and picturing you as the main character’s love interest.

Satan had no doubts. If you were to reciprocate his feelings, he’d prefer them to be real.

Asmo

“You won’t believe it, MC!”

He gained one thousand followers in Devilgram in just one night! Sneaking out and going to that party with Mammon was totally worth it! They both had to kneel before Lucifer for three whole hours and Mammon was hung upside down, that was true, but still, totally worth it!

Now, where were you? Your phone was charging on your bedside table and only half of the candles were lit, pictures of the family and various trinkets decorating the branches of the tree. He could see all the skincare products he’d ever recommend and bought for you on the table, but he frowned when he hold a bottle in his hand and felt it was almost empty.

Why didn’t you tell him? You could use the opportunity to go on a shopping spree with him! But… ooh, what were you making? It looked like the face oil you just finished! Silky, golden and glittery, almost odourless if not for the faint smell of your lip balm and flowers; roses, like the ones in his room.

Were you trying to replicate the product? He could understand why, it was a little expensive after all, but it wouldn’t achieve the same results as the original. Natural ingredients had some limits, after all. But hey, it could be fun! You had some great ideas, MC; although it was a pity you didn’t want to share them with him.

Or, maybe, you wanted to surprise him! A fuzzy feeling covered his heart at the thought, like bubbles in a sugary drink, and he had the sudden need of sitting down next to the cauldron with mixed words stuck in his throat. The oil changed its appearance from that perspective, the golden colour turning hot pink with red swirls.

Asmodeus stared in amazement, wondering what type of ingredients you used to create such a hypnotizing concoction. Could you share the recipe with him? It would be your little secret! He already had some ideas for the next one, like a soft baby pink or a shimmery white that looked and smelled like frosting.

Or, perhaps, if you were keen on the idea, you could come together to create a new smell that would only belong to you. Something that he’d never share with anyone else and could never be duplicated.

Like all the love he felt for you.

Beel

Forgive him, MC.

It smelt too good.

Like cheeseburgers with fries and pizza with sodas and raw cookie dough with marshmallows and ice cream and chips of every flavour… Everything he had ever eaten with you, especially during that movie marathon weekend.

It had been a consolation price for losing his last Fangol game, something that hardly happened and left him with a sour taste in his mouth, broody and frustrated, so not like him. He’d been hungrier than ever then and, if not for Lucifer and Lord Diavolo, he would’ve eaten half of the coliseum. Thankfully, you had a whole stack of food ready to be taken in the kitchen.

Beel knew you probably bought it all thinking he would win the game, but, hey, food is food. He’d never think of complaining, especially when it came from you.

He didn’t remember what you watched and he already apologized for it a couple of times, but he wasn’t really bothered about it. After all, he’d spent the whole weekend cuddling you, crossing the wobbly line of friendship you’d both established long ago, and eating everything you had for him. Only when the week began again he realized he hadn’t been left entirely satisfied and he deeply hoped you felt the same.

Should he had kiss you? Distract you from the movie and confess under the blankets, smelling you amongst the sugary and savoury food?  

He wasn’t sure at the time, but Belphie’s teasing was encouragement enough for him to leave his bedroom and rush to yours.

But you weren’t there.

And the cauldron smelt so good.

Beel didn’t even have time to check what it was before drinking it all at full speed as if it was a bottle of water after practice. The smell remained only for a couple of seconds, but he didn’t feel any different, maybe a little bit warmer than before.

Whatever.

Where were you, MC? He had something to tell you.

Belphie

He was dreaming of the beach, waves crashing against the sand and warm wind tanning his skin, but you weren’t there. He looked around for a while, finding no one, so, although very reluctantly, he forced himself to wake up.

The attic was empty and without the seawater’s coolness the high temperature in the room left him sticky, tangled in his sheets and uncomfortable. He searched for his DDD, toying with the idea of sending you a message in hopes of sleeping in your room, but he didn’t know how long it would take you to respond, so, grabbing his pillow and his blanket, he got up and went down the stairs.

He hadn’t seen you since last night and you didn’t share any classes that day, hence him not going to RAD despite Lucifer’s complaints. Then, dinner had been hectic with everyone trying to get your attention, so, overall, Belphie didn’t really spend any time with you that day and he missed you too much to sleep properly.

Yes, he blamed you.

And yes, it was a reason good enough to enter your room without knocking.

Disappointingly, just like in his dream, you weren’t there, although it smelt so much like you: your human essence, your body products and your detergent, which he’d stolen multiple times to clean his bed sheets.

Did you do laundry recently? Why didn’t you say anything? Or were you in the shower? In that case, don’t worry MC, he could wait, just not for long; after all, your bed was too comfortable and your room was especially homey that night. He expected you to be already at the beach by the time he got there.

Naked, clothed, in your swimwear, he didn’t care. Belphie just wanted you there with him. Hopefully, forever.

.

.

@hello-gloomy  @the-sassiest-toaster  @hero-nii-blog  @yourlocalyin  @elaemae  @eliciria  @darkflowerav  @zarakem  @yuuvis32  @anxious-chick  @commets-space  @deepestartisanhumanoidshark  @ourfinalisation

[nanawritesit]

Mammon Imagine: He Finds a Picture of Him in Your Wallet

anonymous said: “Totally a fluffy moment. picture Mc with mammon and they buy something but mams sees a picture of them together or just mammon in their wallet. Dude is totally gushing over it. brothers probably ask why just him and are throwing pictures at you. Asmo got a whole picture stash we already know.”

—————

You were having a day out with the brothers, visiting several shops and markets together. After a full day of wrangling the seven of them all around the Devildom, you were in desperate need of some sustenance. Beel had enthusiastically suggested you all eat dinner at Hell’s Kitchen, as they were having a BOGO on burger meals, and you would only really have to pay for four people rather than eight. Happy to save some money, everyone agreed, and now you were all sat at a table enjoying your meals.

“Ooh, MC! Let’s go over to that claw machine! I see a super cute unicorn plushy that I really want!” Asmo pleaded, tugging on your arm as the meal was coming to a close.

“Alright, I’m coming.” you smiled patiently, moving to get up out of your chair. You grabbed your wallet out of your pocket it and handed it to the person sitting next to you, which just so happened to be Mammon. “Go ahead and pay for me and Asmo’s if the waitress comes by with the check, okay?”

“Oi! You should offer to pay for mine too since you’re leavin’ me to pay for your food!” Mammon scoffed.

“I figured you’d just take some of my money to pay for yours anyway.” you teased him, ruffling his snow white locks.

He blushed reluctantly as you scampered off to the other end of the restaurant with Asmo.

“How much longer are you going to pretend you’re not in love with them?” Belphie asked him nonchalantly once you were out of earshot.

Mammon gasped defensively. “Wh…? Whadya’ talkin’ about? I’m not in love with them…” His eyes darted down to your wallet in his hands that he was currently fiddling with to avoid the gaze of his brothers. “Besides, they don’t feel that way about me.”

“That’s true, you’re far too scummy.” Levi clicked his tongue apathetically, going back to his phone.

“Hey! That ain’t what I meant!” Mammon screeched back at his younger brother, wacking him on the shoulders. “Of course they like The Great Mammon. But only as a friend.”

“How can you be so sure?” Lucifer inquired, setting his silverware down to focus on his brother.

“I just know, okay?!” the avatar of greed huffed, annoyed that his brothers only seemed to be interested in what he had to say when he was talking about you.

“Alright, here’s the check!” the waitress suddenly interrupted the conversation. “Did you guys want to pay now, or are we still finishing up?”

“We can pay now, thank you.” Lucifer replied, motioning for everyone to hand over their money.

Mammon flipped open your wallet to retrieve the grimm, setting it down face open while he handed the money across the table to Lucifer. However as soon as he sat back down, something caught his attention. Behind your school I.D was the outline of a polaroid photograph. He debated on whether or not to pull it out and look at it. Just as he was about to however, Levi snatched the wallet away.

“Hey, what’s that picture?” the otaku asked, fumbling through the card holders to slip it out.

“Oi, stop! That’s MC’s!” Mammon retaliated, swiping at his brothers’ hands. They began tugging on either side of the wallet like little children, until Lucifer intervened and slapped them both upside the head, snatching the wallet away once they were busy wincing in pain.

“Honestly you two, all this commotion over a silly little photograph…” Lucifer grumbled, glancing down at it. He began slipping the picture out of its slot. “I suppose we’ll have no peace until it’s revealed.” He slapped the polaroid down on the center of the table, causing everyone to widen their eyes at the sight of it.

“Is that…?” Beel asked, shocked enough to even pause his eating for a moment.

“It’s me!” Mammon exclaimed, picking it up to inspect it further. The rest of the brothers all leaned forward to crowd around him, as if they couldn’t believe their own eyes. It was a picture you had snapped of him passed out in your bed after a night of drinking and gambling at the casino. The only part of you that was visible was one smiling eye and your forehead, as he took up most of the shot. He was curled up on his side and clinging onto you like a koala, fast asleep in a white t-shirt. His hair was messy and his face was puffy, but there was an adorable innocence to it that no one could deny.

“Hey everyone, look what MC won me!” Asmo suddenly chirped, holding out his new pink sparkly unicorn. You were trailing slightly behind him, the two of you now stopped in front of the table. “Um, what’s that? And why are you all so stunned?”

“Ya keep a picture of me in your wallet?” Mammon finally spoke in a small voice, his eyes sparkling with adoration.

You glanced over at the photograph in the center of the table, realizing it was yours. “Oh, yeah! I just thought you looked so cute, I look at it all the time. It makes me really happy.”

With that, Mammon’s face flushed a deep shade of hot pink. However, a sly grin soon made its way onto his face as he adjusted his glasses. “Well of course it does. A snapshot of me is bound to make anyone’s day brighter.”

“Oh please…” Levi rolled his eyes, obviously envious of your affections for Mammon. “I’ve got a couple pictures of you I could give MC that are way less attractive.”

“Oh yeah, so do I. I keep a special album on my phone just for them.” Satan agreed, swiping open his phone to show you.

“Aye! Guys, stop!” Mammon demanded, swiping their phones away from your view.

“I actually keep really nice pictures of all of us in my wallet.” Asmo declared, reaching for his purse. He then unzipped the hot pink leopard print wallet and dumped out a fat pile of photographs. Everyone gasped and reached forward to inspect them, except for Mammon who slid out of his chair to lead you away for a semi-private conversation.

“Please, don’t let them show ya any embarrassing pictures of me.” he pleaded, holding onto your hand. “I don’t think I could face ya again if they did.”

“Don’t worry Mammon. I don’t think I could ever find you unattractive.” you told him with an affectionate grin.

He blushed once again, his eyes darting to the ground bashfully. “Aye… ya can’t just be sayin’ things like that…”

“Why? It’s true.” you reassured him, gripping onto his hands comfortingly. He looked up at you with a hopeful glint in his eyes, to which you leaned forward and pecked his lips with your own. It was short, but sweet enough to stop his heart and make his whole body heat up.

“Wh…? MC! What was that all about?!” he exclaimed, mouth falling agape in shock.

“Do I have to spell it out for you?” you asked, comically widening your eyes. “I like you, Mammon! A lot! I want us to be together!”

As soon as your words registered, his face broke out into an enormous grin. In an instant, he was placing his hands on your cheeks to press his lips to yours, longer and more passionately than your previous kiss. Your own hands came to rest against his chest, curving your body into his. As you pulled away, foreheads pressed together, you were startled by the eruption of applause from the entire restaurant, mainly from the rest of the brothers.

“Finally!” Belphie cheered, standing up on his chair. You had truly never seen him so energetic before.

You looked at each other, giggling at your slight discomfort, then held hands and walked back over to the table.

“So, are you two finally official?” Lucifer asked, folding his arms across his chest with an amused grin.

“Well, I’d say so.” Mammon sighed with a mildly cocky yet sincere tone. “After all, I am the one who’s picture is in their wallet.” He then leaned over to you and winked. “By the way, I’m gonna need a picture of ya that’s just as adorable as mine!”

[fanficgirlysmhh]

Insta jealousy

Summary; When a flirty influencer's obsession with Kylian Mbappe gets out of hand, his girlfriend (y/n) uses a viral Instagram reel to teach him a lesson

Pairing; Kylian Mbappe x reader

Word count; 1281

Warnings: fluff, jealousy, relationship

The tension had been building for weeks. Every day seemed to bring another post or interview from Brenda, the influencer who couldn’t stop talking about how much she adored Kylian Mbappe. Yesterday, she’d taken it a step further, openly declaring in an interview that she loved Mbappe and wanted him to follow her on Instagram. To your dismay, Kylian had obliged. Now, they followed each other, and Brenda liked and commented cheekily on every one of his photos, completely ignoring the pictures of you two together.

You were trying to stay calm, but it was getting harder every day. Fans were tagging you in Brenda’s videos, filling Kylian’s Instagram with questions about your relationship status. You knew you needed to do something before you exploded.

One evening, as Kylian scrolled through his phone, chuckling at something Brenda had posted, you decided you couldn’t take it anymore. "Really, Kylian? You think this is funny?"

He looked up, surprised. "What are you talking about, y/n?"

You crossed your arms, the frustration bubbling up. "Brenda. She’s everywhere, always talking about you, and now you're encouraging her by liking and commenting on her posts."

Kylian sighed, putting his phone down. "It's just harmless fun. She’s just a fan."

"A fan who wants more than just an autograph," you shot back. "And it’s not just her. Her followers, your followers, they all keep tagging me, asking if we’ve broken up. It’s humiliating."

He frowned, the humor fading from his eyes. "I didn’t realize it was bothering you that much."

"Well, it is," you said, the tears of frustration welling up. "I feel like I'm competing for your attention."

Kylian stood, walking over to you. "You don’t have to compete for anything. You're the one I love."

"Then show it," you whispered, the fight draining out of you. "Because right now, it doesn’t feel that way."

Kylian pulled you into a hug, his arms wrapping around you tightly. "I’m sorry, y/n. I’ll fix this. I didn’t mean to make you feel like this."

You nodded against his chest, but the seed of an idea had already taken root. You would make him see what it felt like. The next day, you called your friends and set your plan in motion.

That afternoon, you and your friends gathered in your living room, ready to film the Instagram reel. You’d found a filter that showed pictures of footballers, allowing you to rate their hotness on a scale of 1-10.

"Alright, ladies," you said, starting the recording. "Let’s rank the hottest footballers."

The first picture that popped up was Jude Bellingham. "Ooh, Jude is definitely a 9," one of your friends said, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Those eyes are killer," another friend agreed, giving Jude a high score.

Next up was Erling Haaland. "Haaland’s got that Viking look. Solid 8," you said, laughing as your friends nodded in agreement.

When a picture of Hugo Lloris appeared, your friends went wild. "a total 10!" one of them shouted.

You smiled, ready for the next photo. "And in second place," you said, glancing at the camera with a smirk as a picture of Marcus Rashford appeared, “is someone I’ve had the biggest crush on forever. He’s just... perfect. Definite 9.5.”

Your friends gasped and giggled. "Ooh, tell us more!" one of them teased.

"Maybe later," you said, winking at the camera.

That evening, Kylian came home, his face a mix of confusion and irritation. He held up his phone, the reel paused on the screen. "Y/n, what is this?"

You shrugged nonchalantly, though your heart was racing. "Just a fun reel with my friends. Why? Did it bother you?"

Kylian narrowed his eyes, a hint of jealousy flickering in them. "You didn’t even put me on the list, and you ranked guys who look like me. And what's this about a long-standing crush on Rashford?"

You crossed your arms, trying to maintain your cool. "Why does it bother you? You find it cute when Brenda fawns over you in every interview, and you even follow her back and like her pictures.“

Before Kylian could respond, his phone buzzed again. He glanced at it, his eyes widening slightly. "Rashford... he commented on your reel."

Your heart skipped a beat. "What did he say?"

Kylian read aloud, "‘Always knew I had a secret admirer! Thanks for the love, y/n.’” He looked up, his jealousy now unmistakable. “And he put a winking emoji.”

You couldn’t help but giggle. “Well, can you blame him?”

Kylian didn’t seem amused. Instead, he quickly typed a reply, "‘Back off, mate. She's taken.’”

You raised an eyebrow, amused by his protectiveness. "Feeling a bit jealous, are we?"

Kylian sighed, pulling you into a hug. "I didn’t mean to make you feel like that. I thought it was just harmless fun. But seeing you talk about other guys... yeah, it made me jealous."

You looked up at him, your resolve wavering. "I just wanted you to see how it feels."

He sighed, pulling you closer. "I’m sorry. I didn't think about how it would affect you. You know you're the only one I care about, right?"

You melted into his embrace, feeling the tension ease away. "I know. I guess I just needed a little reminder."

Kylian kissed the top of your head, holding you tight. "I promise, I'll be more mindful. And for the record, you’re way hotter than any influencer out there."

You laughed, feeling the last of your jealousy slip away. "And you’re way hotter than Haaland."

Kylian chuckled, lifting your chin to look into your eyes. "Good to know. Now, how about we take a break from social media and spend some quality time together?"

You nodded, smiling up at him. "Sounds perfect."

As the evening wore on, you and Kylian put the drama behind you

---

The next morning, as you cuddled with Kylian on the couch, you had an idea. Grabbing your phone, you set it up to record another reel. Kylian watched curiously as you began.

"Hey everyone," you said with a grin. "After yesterday's fun, I realized I missed someone very important. So today, I'm going to rank the hottest footballer, and honestly, there's no competition. The number one spot goes to..."

You turned the camera to Kylian, who smiled sheepishly. "Kylian Mbappe," you said proudly. "No one even comes close."

Kylian laughed, pulling you into his lap. "You're just saying that because you have to."

You shook your head, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "No, I'm saying it because it's true."

As you posted the reel, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction. Within minutes, comments started pouring in, and fans were tagging Brenda, mocking her obsession and praising your sweet relationship.

Kylian glanced at the screen and then back at you, his expression softening. "Thank you," he said quietly.

You smiled, leaning your head against his. "Always, Kylian. You're the only one for me."

[dirtysvthoughts]

hello, marathon sex anon back. I hope you had a good hiatus! my latest brain rot is Chan holding you against the wall with your legs round his waist while he fucks you. he would get so into it that he wouldn't have time to get you to a bed before each of you have cum for the first time

hey bestie! welcome back i absolutely LOVED your chan marathon sex ask! thank you so much! 🥹 you may need to claim an emoji or something very soon cause i love all the chan content you are giving me and all of us 🤤

basing this off of the first video teaser for wait bc he looks too damn good and this what i immediately thought of when i read your ask bestie 🫠

imagine chan pressing you up against the wall, your body shivering at the contrast of heat against the cold surface. your shirt is long gone and your panties are pulled to the side, chan’s jeans slightly pulled down enough where he can whip his dick out of his boxers. his lips are attached to your neck and you release such lovely moans by his ear that has him craving for more. when he swiftly hikes your left leg up to wrap around his waist, you feel like you could pass out. only he could make something so simple so fucking sexy.

when he finally puts his tip in, your arms press down on chan’s shoulders, loving the way he stretches you out. he stays still for a few moments, letting you get adjusted to his size before he starts thrusting slowly into you, his name now leaving your lips so delicately and gently.

“chan, ooh - ch-channie,” you moan sweetly, chan biting down on his lips hard enough to draw blood. god he loved it when you moaned out his name.

“yeah pretty girl?” he asks, looking into your eyes.

“you feel so good inside of m-me, mmmm, you feel amazing channie,” you moan out again in pleasure as one particular thrust hits in the right spot. “fuck, don’t stop..”

chan smirks at how gone you are, but he couldn’t blame you. the way you were grabbing at his back, clenching around his dick, and calling out for him? both of you were intoxicated by each other. “i couldn’t stop even if i wanted to baby.”

chan then starts to thrust faster, your body trying to keep up with his motions. your moans become more consistent and whiny as you feel your climax approaching. you soon feel something in your body telling you you’re about to burst, but before you can tell chan, the coil inside you snaps and you’re coming all over his dick.

chan absolutely can’t help the groan he lets out, and he comes seconds after you - the both of your lower halves now covered in each other’s juices, some of it even dripping onto the floor.

you both breathe heavily, trying to regain some of your stamina and energy. before he hesitates, chan shoves your panties down your legs, and you kick them to the side as he lifts you up, your right leg now joining your left to wrap around his waist. he attaches his lips to yours, and you kiss him feverishly, not wanting to let go.

when you separate for a split second, the words that come out of his mouth have you dripping even more. “let’s get you upstairs pretty baby.. wanna see that glistening pussy when i spread your legs out on your bed.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Like a Stone 3

Warnings: non/dubcon, power dynamic, age gap, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Loki, Tony Stark (Professor AU)

Summary: your work as a TA is complicated by more than your advisor. (tall reader)

Part of the Bad Professors AU

Note: Please leave some feedback and reblog <3 As always, I love to chat with you all. 

You tap the button on the clicker to change the slide. You’re overly aware of the slender figure sat behind the podium. You feel as if he sees your every move yet he hardly seems to be paying attention at the same time. It’s difficult to read the man who offers little expression and less words. 

Doctor Laufeyson’s presence haunts your lesson as you proceed through you hard-forged lesson plan. You remember a similar lesson from your first year. Introductory Philosophy was a measly challenge and you don’t find teaching it any more challenging. No, it’s only your supervising professor that proves tedious. 

“So, as we wrap up theism and why humans seek solace or direction or reason from God, gods, or some other deity or deities...” you hesitate as you hear the door open and close. You didn’t notice anyone get up to go to the bathroom but maybe you missed it. “Which explanation makes most sense to you? In the scheme of civilization, what drives people to seek certainty in the uncertain?” 

Your eyes flick up to the movement in the back row. You nearly choke on your tongue. You stare up at the man who sits heavily and props his feet up on the seat in front of him. That man, Stark, crosses his arms and wears a smug smile as he watches you. 

“Giselle,” you look around for a hand, “please.” 

“I think it’s like you said, a lot of things happen for no reason or we don’t know the reason...” 

She goes on but you find it hard to focus. Why is he here? Better yet, how did he find you? Well, he made it clear he knew of your association with Doctor Laufeyson but you thought as a professor himself he might have his own lectures to give. 

“Mm, especially as we can trace back so many structures of belief to ancient societies,” you respond as best you can. “In eras when so much could not be explained--” 

“Nah,” the man at the back scoffs, “I think humans want God to exist because they’re scared.” 

You wince and put your hands behind your back, gripping the clicker tight. You sense motion behind your shoulder. The professor finally breaks his statuesque posture as he shifts behind the podium. 

“They’re too afraid to stand on their own so they gotta make their bad choices someone elses,” Stark chortles. “They can’t just face up that they might not be great. Or maybe they are. They need let go and realise they can be their own god. Just gotta do whatever they want and not give a—heck.” 

He smiles again and you stand speechless. You don’t know how to respond. It’s clear he’s taunting you and if there wasn’t a full class and your professor behind you, you would run him down from hair to hide. Yet in that moment, you are paralysed. 

“Well, that was wonderful,” Laufeyson stands and speaks over the silent room. “I trust you will ruminate on today’s lesson ahead of our next quiz.” He lingers at the podium, “you are dismissed. Don’t forget your readings.” 

The students give a collective sigh. You stand stiffly as they pack up. You bring your hands forward and look down at the clicker. You back up and go to put it back on the podium. 

The lecture hall slowly empties of voices but a whistle remains. Slightly off-key. It irritates you as you pack up your bag. 

“Must you with that incessant racket?” Laufeyson sneers. It’s as animated as you’ve ever heard him. “Stark, what brings you to my neck of the woods?” 

“Ooh, are we doing cliches?” Stark rebuffs. You look up as he drops his feet and pulls himself up with the seat ahead of him. “Well, believe it or not, Loki, I didn’t come to hear you speak out your ass.” 

He slips his hands into his pockets as he comes to the end of the aisle and slowly descends the steps between the rows. You hook your bag over your shoulder as Laufeyson tilts his head. Stark stops a few feet away from him. 

“Primmy, baby, how about it? After that tripe, you must need a drink.” Stark smirks back at your blank stare. 

“No,” you blink. “I don’t drink.” 

“Her?” Laufeyson narrows his eyes. “Have you run out of options off-campus?” 

“Well, you’d know that problem well, buddy,” Stark snips back. “I’m just being nice. I see a girl working hard and I know how to reward her.” 

You ignore him and shake your head. You turn to Laufeyson, “Professor, I will work on my next lesson and forward my notes. Thank you for your time.” 

Laufeyson glances over at you. He is pensive as he looks down his nose. He is of a few who can so in your direction. 

“All work and no play, you’re going to drive her batty,” Stark snorts. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. We can have fun and old Dr. Tight ass can spend his time with his books.” 

“I’m not interested,” you say pointedly without looking at him. “Doctor, I will go now.” 

“You will not. He will, and we will have our post-lecture review. I do have a few notes,” he insists. 

You don’t argue. You fold your hands and set your chin, “very well.” 

“Damn, Laufeyson, tell me it’s not like looking in a mirror with this one. Must make you tingly.” 

“Leave,” the doctor edges closer to the shorter man. “This room is in my name at this time so I can call security and have them escort you. Yet, I’d rather do it myself.” 

You’re stunned by the threat. You wouldn’t expect it of Dr. Laufeyson. Well, you wouldn’t know what to expect of him. He stands tall, chin up, shoulders square, and stares down the other man. The shorter man. 

“As much as I’d like to see you try then have to put you on your ass,” Stark sneers, “I like this suit more and you’re not worth it.” 

Stark tugs on his lapels and turns his sights on you. He winks, “I’ll see you, Primmy.” 

He spins on his heel and struts away. You arch a brow and watch him, mortified. Dr. Laufeyson clears his throat as the other professor leaves. 

“And how are you acquainted with that lummox?” He finally speaks. 

“I’m not,” you say. “We had an unfortunate collision and he hasn’t desisted.” 

His green eyes search you. It feels like the first time he’s looked at you. Even as if it’s the first time he’s seen you. 

“Mm, well, it isn’t appropriate.” 

“I agree,” you say. 

“So he won’t reappear,” he dips his head slightly, tersely. You realise, he’s telling you to make sure it doesn’t. 

“It won’t,” you assure. 

“Wonderful. You RSVP’d for the symposium?” He asks, thought it hardly sounds like a question. 

You inhale. You haven’t asked your father for the fee yet. You’ll have to do so soon. 

“I will.” 

“Be certain you do. Now, I will send an email of my notes.” He turns away and goes back to the podium. 

You realise he only meant to get rid of Stark before. Likely not for your sake, but his own. What does it matter? At least you can be free of both of them now. 

[uzumaki-rebellion]

"Up early that morning, Spy Boy ready

I got my machete, Ooh na nae

What they say? We on our way

Downtown Indian, Uptown Indian

West Bank Indian, Back o'town Indian

Lord I'm pretty, my Big Chief Pretty

My whole gang pretty, we the best in the city"

Shotgun Slim – "Injunz Comin'"

The soft patter of rain woke Celeste up.

She hadn't been asleep for long. The darkness outside hadn't lightened up enough to herald the coming of dawn and she guessed it was only a little after two a.m., maybe close to three. Terry slept beside her quietly, his right arm thrown over her waist. She untangled herself and tiptoed into the kitchen to drink water. Dehydration caught up to her after the third vigorous sexual union of the day with Terry. The aches and pains of lovemaking wore out her back, neck, and inner thighs with a dull soreness. She did much better this time around, better than their first time together the night before.

The man had kinks. Spanking. Biting. Rope binding using the red satin Shibari rope she'd bought for her fetish content. She rubbed her wrists from the indentation marks the rope made. They spent all day Monday making love, smoking weed, talking, munching cookies, and napping in between. She had eaten no real food for over twenty hours, and now she was hungry and thirsty.

She feasted on the leftover food Terry didn't eat from Durand's and then stretched her legs to get them used to walking again since they lived in her bed for nearly two days. Nicotine cravings called to her, and she straggled into the living room to find a pack of smokes. She lit up and inhaled, blowing a smoke ring out toward her French doors.

The fuck?

She froze, staring at her curtains.

The shadow of someone standing in her backyard shocked her, even more so when it looked like the profile of Terry…naked. She gasped, and the figure turned to face her…started floating toward the double doors. The lingering effects of the weed in her system had her doubting reality.

"Why are you up?"

"Jesus!"

Celeste jumped out of her skin when she heard Terry's voice. He slid his hand around her waist.

"Don't scare me like that!"

"I wasn't tryna scare you, just wondered where you went. I woke up, and you were gone," he said.

"Do you see…"

The shadowy figure disappeared.

"What?" Terry asked.

"There was someone standing out there."

Terry moved her behind him and strode toward the double doors naked. He pulled one curtain aside.

"I don't see anyone, Celeste."

He unlocked one door and stepped out. Her motion sensor light came on bright, illuminating the yard. She walked behind him and avoided stepping outside. A light drizzle of rain fell on him.

"We're naked…get back in here!" she said, pulling on his arm.

"Give me a minute," he said.

Terry inspected the area thoroughly and walked back inside, locking the door behind him. His damp body trickled in water on the hardwood floor.

"It was probably a cat or a possum," he said.

"Shaped like a man?"

"There's nothing and no one out there."

She peeked out of the glass. Perhaps it had been an elongated shadow from a tree. The floodlights would've come on if someone was there and they didn't for the first time. Not until Terry went out and activated the motion sensors.

She let it go and snuffed out the cigarette.

"Come back to bed," he said.

A devilish twinkle in his eye signaled he was feeling horny again.

"No more sex. We need to rest and save our energy for tomorrow."

Terry pouted, pushing out his lips that she loved to ride on and kiss. She hugged him around the neck, enjoying his warm, wet body touching her.

"You can pout all you want mister, but we're done for the night."

He spanked her right butt cheek and lifted her off of her feet, carrying her back to the bedroom. She rested her head on his chest once they settled in for the night.

How long would this last?

After Tuesday, he'd probably head back to see Miss Irma before going back to where he came from, which was about a five-hour drive away. A long distance relationship wasn't something she envisioned for herself.

She watched him sleep.

He reminded her of a handsome prince in a deep slumber waiting to be kissed and awakened from a spell like some fairy tale. She loved the wideness of his nose and how it matched the proportion of his soft lips. She loved how his ears stuck out, giving him a jovial, big kid look when he smiled.

His body took up most of her double bed and she thought about ordering a king-sized bed to accommodate him better. Would a king-size mattress even fit in her bedroom? That thought jolted her. Was she seriously contemplating new furniture for a man she just met?

"My God tuh-day," she mumbled.

The absurdity ruffled her feathers. In the sobering reality, after all the mind-blowing sex, Celeste wanted to put a lid on any thoughts of a future. Every time she felt a way about a man and started making plans and setting boundaries, nothing came to fruition, and she always ended up with heartbreak or bitterness. She resolved to keep it cool with Terry. This was fuck buddy fun. Plain and simple.

But look at that face!

The thick eyebrows and heavy lashes softened the sculptured forehead and chin. His goatee gave him a dashing look of a rogue, and it matched his energy in bed. She ain't never had a man talk her through so many orgasms. When she rode him like the pony express, bouncing so hard that her cheeks clapped against his thighs with the power of cymbals crashing, she was already planning long luxurious vacations with him to exotic resorts on the other side of the world. All because his voice sounded like it came from the top of a mountain heralding the coming of the Lord.

His dick was a magic stick that had her talking in tongues in the key of brreb-bababy-ah-ashantay by the time they finished their last entanglement. Was it crack? Did this negro have crack in his penis? Cuz babygirl was definitely hooked.  Even with a condom on, that dick still had her spellbound, satisfied, and doing full splits on it like she was Simone Biles.

Sleep finally overtook her disjointed thoughts, and she slumbered through eight restful hours. She woke up on a sunny Fat Tuesday morning grinning, smelling the odor of cooking that she wasn't doing coming from her kitchen. Wearing the afterglow of heavenly lovemaking, she threw on a robe and sauntered into where Terry stood at her stove sprinkling grated cheddar cheese inside an omelet. He'd already taken a shower before she got up. With only a dark blue towel draped around his waist, he looked like a tawny Greek Adonis.

"Morning. Did you sleep well, beautiful?"

Butterfly wings fluttered in her belly every time he called her beautiful. He always showered her with pet names and compliments. If he was bread crumbing her for more sex, she was falling for it. She was a sucker for love bombing and all the fortitude she built up before she fell asleep yesterday went out the window. She hugged him from behind.

"I slept like a lazy cat."

"Listen, I have to run back to my B&B to get fresh fits. What time do we have to roll to see your grandfather?"

"Big Chief will be outside before nine."

"I'll go get dressed and we can ride over in my truck."

"Okay."

"Sit, I'll fix you a plate and then I'll bounce."

Celeste propped herself in her kitchen chair and ogled Terry's backside wrapped in the towel. So taut. Round the way she liked it. The muscles in his back flexed and her gaze followed down his spine to where the towel hung on his tapered waist. The gods of body blessings built him to perfection. She rested her cheek on her hand and studied everything on that man. He folded the omelet over and slid it onto a plate of fried alligator sausages.

"There you go," he said, serving her the plate.

She puckered her lips, and he kissed her.

"Thank you, sir…wait, you're not joining me?"

He placed a mug of fresh coffee on the table next to her fork.

"I ate while you were still snoozing, so I could get outta here on time. Be back before you know it. Enjoy breakfast."

He left her in the kitchen and she didn't like watching his wide back move away from her. Digging into the omelet, she was delighted to find he cooked onions and diced tomatoes in it, too. The hot and spicy sausage woke her up completely, and she took a moment to sip the coffee and glance out of the kitchen window, grateful no rain would hamper the day.

She enjoyed a long shower and rubbed her body down with jasmine and honey blossom lotion. Slipping on comfortable underwear, she worked on her make-up and face-painting first, choosing an avant-garde style that mimicked Mardi Gras colors with a West African geometric flair, turning half her face into living art. The other half she glued a partial green carnival mask that had three slender purple feathers sticking out from it like a hand fan. She pulled her carnival outfit from the closet in her sewing room and checked for any last-minute re-stitching she needed to do. Celeste had painstakingly decorated the purple and yellow keyhole halter top with sewn-in cowrie shells she hand-painted a shiny, metallic gold. A pair of sequined gold shorts she bought online rounded off the ensemble and had her booty sitting up. She'd added Mardi Gras beads on the sides of the shorts to make her shimmies and shuffles on the streets extra dramatic. Reaching behind her neck, she untied her black satin hair wrap and released her locs. The last task was to pick footwear to run the streets in. She had a nice pair of neon yellow sprinting shoes she used for track in highschool, but there was also a cool pair of green Chucks. Choosing the sprinting shoes that were less bulky, she laced up and threw a crossbody sling bag across her shoulders, stuffing her cell phone, keys and cigarettes inside. Digging in her nightstand, she tossed a couple of joints in the bag, too. It was Fat Tuesday, after all. She could repent on Ash Wednesday at St. Augustine Church.

Street food would be in abundance, and every corner would have someone selling quarter waters. She waited in her living room for Terry and checked on text messages from friends wanting to gossip about the pretty man she unabashedly kept locked in her bed. All of her girlfriends were happy that she was safe. Nae Nae sent eggplant emojis, and Joyce sent water splashes and yellow smiley faces with tongues out looking like they were sweating.

A knock at the door sprung her into action. She grabbed her tambourine, swung the door open and twirled.

"How do I look?"

The man at the door wasn't Terry.

"You look like you're ready to show out. How ya doin', Duchess?"

Freddie grinned like a cat with the canary caught between his gums. His silky mahogany skin gleamed in the sunlight and so did his tangerine carnival suit with the Money Wasters Social & Pleasure Club sash slung across his chest. From the tangerine gators on his feet to the matching fedora on his head, Celeste's ex looked elegant and much better-looking since the last time she ran into him. Of course, she was cursing him out of his name at the time after receiving a break-up text in the middle of Sunday Mass.

"Why are you here? Who gave you my address?"

"Calm down now, gal. Your Mama said you were still doing poorly, and I just wanted to check on you. Us not being together doesn't mean I don't still care about you. I figure carnival morning is a good day to see ya."

"You seen me, now bye."

"Don't be like that, Celeste. Let the past be the past...today is Mardi Gras, a little buck jumping and celebrating is good for everybody's soul."

Celeste's stomach churned at the sight of him. She didn't need any turmoil today. Music blasted from various corners of her street, kicking off the bright festive mood she wanted to indulge in. Freddie leaned toward her.

"Listen, Duchess, men make mistakes. They do! Don't roll your eyes at me. They fuck up and grow from it. Six months ago, we weren't in a good place, and instead of acting like a grown man, I acted like a boy and hurt you. I wasn't ready to commit to anything or take on the responsibility of marriage."

"But you were willing to play house with me, enjoying all the benefits of a marriage without the strings? Is that how that works? See, that was partially my fault for letting it go on so long because I actually thought there was a chance you would step up and show me we were a team."

"C'mon now, you were pressuring me all the time."

"Asking where you saw us in the next five years was pressure?"

"Duchess—"

"No. We aren't doing this. If this is your way of spinning the block, you can keep on driving partna. I gave you so many chances to prove your worth, but you chose to move on without me in the bed of another woman. Go fuck that bitch…better yet, fuck all the bitches you want, because I'm done with your lame excuses. You were mad that I asked you to put up or shut up, so now deal with the consequences of your actions."

She wagged a finger in his face.

"You had a good one, Freddie, and you blew it."

"Baby, I hurt you bad…I know. I want to make amends. That's why I came here today. However long it takes to wait out the hate you have for me right now, I will do it."

A deep rumble shook the streets as a late-model gray Chevy Silverado truck pulled up behind her car. The heavy bass made her windows rattle, and she grinned so hard that Freddie jerked his head around to see what caused all the showing of teeth.

Terry stepped out of the truck sporting a Mardi Gras-themed graphic T-shirt and custom oyster-gray joggers. She noticed his walking shoes were Kuru athletic slip-ons that looked comfortable as hell.

She exhaled so loud looking at Terry that Freddie sucked his teeth.

"You good, baby?" Terry asked, his gaze locked on Freddie as he spoke.

"Ready to go. Give me a second to lock up," she said, pulling out her keys.

Terry leaned against the passenger door of his truck and waited for her. Freddie followed her down the four steps of her stoop.

"Hey…how you doing, man?" Freddie said.

Freddie held out his hand and Terry shook it, his face neutral, but not mean-mugging. However, his eyes were icy daggers. Celeste took pleasure in the height difference of the two men. Freddie had to look up at Terry's face like she did.

"Nice suit," Terry said, looking over Freddie's sartorial finery.

"Well ya know, gotta show out tuhday," Freddie said.

"I hear you. Best day of the year," Terry said.

"Better than Christmas!"

Freddie laughed, and it irked her nerves.

Terry stared at Freddie and the cool silence he gave unnerved her ex. Celeste found it delicious and didn't jump in to make introductions or anything, just let Freddie stand there with an awkward grin stewing on his face.

"Well, guess I betta head out. Y'all have fun now," Freddie said.

"Lose my address," Celeste called to him.

Freddie walked around his white Audi and grumbled something under his breath. He drove off and Celeste groaned her annoyance.

"I swear, when I see my mama, she's going to get a piece of my mind."

"She told him to come here?"

"She gave him my address. I've been living here six months in peace, and now he knows where I live."

"Is that a problem?"

Terry's voice hinted at concern. She threaded her fingers with his.

"He's not a stalker. I think he planned to use this day for a chance at reconciliation, and it backfired with you here."

"Tail between the legs, huh?"

"Yep."

She glanced at his truck.

"Are you open to walking over to my grandparent's house? It's about a thirty-minute stroll. It'll warm up our legs for partying," she said.

"Lead the way."

Celeste tapped her tambourine and pranced in front of him like the Pied Piper, shaking her ass to the music bubbling up from the streets. Tons of people were already walking about, celebrating and greeting strangers and friends with smiles and excited shouts. Being with Terry enabled Celeste to see the carnival life through his eyes. It awakened a new appreciation for her culture and her people. There was always a second line every week because of funerals, social club events, or convention parties and she tended to overlook how unique it was as a local. But with Terry...it became brand new and magical.

They arrived in front of her grandparents' old white double shotgun house amongst a growing audience of paraders. The right side was where her grandparents stayed, and the left side belonged to her aunt and uncle. The narrow street teemed with family and spectators waiting for the Big Chief to come outside. Celeste introduced Terry to her cousins, and gave a proper introduction to all of her girlfriends who patiently waited to see what type of suit Big Chief had sewn all year.

Joyce and Avis welcomed Terry into their fold, unlike Nae Nae and Mercy, who remained reserved a lot longer knowing Celeste stayed in a tender place emotionally after Freddie left her. Hoots and shrieks from the left side of the street roused the throng of bodies packed around them. The ninth ward Headhunter Tribe resplendent in gold and navy blue feathers, stomped and called out for Big Chief to show himself. Other spirited shouts on the right brought forth the Uptown Indians, those from the West Bank and Back o' Town. Celeste counted five tribes in their colorful regalia waiting for her grandfather to show himself on a fine Mardi Gras morning. Terry's eyes looked thrilled to be in the middle of all the pageantry and people. She linked her arm in his, happy to have him by her side.

The front door opened on the right side.

"Here come my Big Chief!" Celeste shouted.

She ululated, and other Treme women joined her in the galvanizing sound. It ricocheted among the squawks and whoops of Black men dressed in enormous headpieces and extravagant works of folk art. With her girlfriends, who waved handkerchiefs, Celeste led the singing of a stirring rendition of "Indian Red" as her Big Chief slowly walked outside in the majestic colors of magenta and royal purple. Celeste let out a long breath of anxious air. Big Chief didn't wear all white. He was going to stay in the game for one more year.

She couldn't hold back the tears and thanked God she spent money on water-proof face paint and kept a handkerchief ready. She dabbed at her eyes, even through the partial mask on her face. Her Uncle Claude, the Second Chief, and Man-Man their Flag Boy helped Big Chief place his crown on his head. A sea of smartphones went up, everyone wanting a picture of one of the oldest Indians alive still masking. Celeste had her phone out too, snapping away from every angle. The low raspy pitch of a tuba sounded off, and soon a full on brass band Treme anthem kicked off the march around the neighborhood.

Celeste squeezed through bodies with her hand clasped around Terry's wrist. She kissed Big Chief's cheek and took a selfie with him. Big Chief squinted at Terry with curious brown eyes.

"Who your people is, young man?" Big Chief asked in his scratchy tone.

"They not from around here, sir. I'm from up north, not too far from Shelby Springs," Terry said.

"A big country boy, huh?"

"Yes, sir."

Big Chief tilted his head, but Terry stepped back to make room for Grand-mère and other tribal members wanting more pictures before her grandfather took off down the street. Bursting with pride, Celeste danced and rattled the jingles on her tambourine.

The streets crackled with high-spirited life and they merged onto other streets, taking careful consideration of Big Chief's energy level throughout the day. They arrived at the I-10 underpass and joined up with a mass of people marching and dancing.

"I like this type of carrying on better than the big parade on canal street," Terry said.

He maintained a bounce in his step, impressing Celeste with his skillful dancing despite his size. Terry shook his hips and tried to move his feet like her. He kept a smile on her face all day and eventually Nae Nae and Mercy warmed up to him after seeing how happy she acted with him.

She pointed out the parasols, baskets, and ostentatious fans she made, snapping photos with her phone and stopping to buy water along the back street route. So many white people mingled among them. Even they knew where the genuine party was at.

"She cutting up now!" a reveler called out.

Mercy started staggering her steps and shuffling to the music as second-line horns blared and coaxed everyone to shake their moneymaker. Celeste jumped right next to her, strutting in the middle of the street. Mercy held her parasol high above her head as she hyped Celeste up.

"Get it Duchess! Work it!"

Avis and Joyce kept yelling, "Aye! Aye! Aye!" every time she dropped low to the ground. Her cousin Micah recorded her on his phone, and hot stepped with the rest.

The onlookers snapped photos and taped Celeste cutting loose like it was the last day of her life on earth. It helped that her shorts let her backside bounce in time to the music and she jumped around shaking her tambourine, moving her feet like they were on fire. Mercy worked the street with her, showing off uptown footwork, but Celeste showed the crowd how the downtown really got down. She bounced and kept her knees bucking up high, spinning and dipping, matching Mercy's high energy and showmanship, keeping her steps syncopated with the tuba, drum, and other horns. Onlookers moved closer to videotape them. Avis took Celeste's tambourine to help keep a hot percussive beat going with her steps.

From the corner of her eye, she caught the Moneywasters Social and Pleasure Club prancing in step, rounding the corner. Freddie was front and center, and he noticed her right away and she really started turning up.

Celeste put her hands on the ground and alternated lifting each foot up with the beat of a cowbell and the whistles being blown. She jumped back up knowing Freddie locked in on her and started wiggling her backside and moving backward by the power of her ass, gyrating until she broke it down further by doing her well-known sexy model catwalk. She strutted and bounced at the same time, moving to the left of the street, and then back to the right. She hopped and twisted her hips around until she surrendered to the moment, her body simply a conduit for whatever African spirit wanted to experience a little bons temps rouler. Her friends were right there with her, dancing and moving their feet fast.

"Yeah, you right!" Nae Nae yelled at her.

"You wild, Duchess!" Joyce shouted.

Celeste dipped around Freddie, and her ex shook a feathered fan at her, dancing his way closer. She dropped her hands on her knees, tooted her backside, and let her hips wind, enticing plenty of people to catcall and whistle at her. The soft crush of Terry's crotch rubbed up against her ass, pleasing the cheering crowd. He blatantly cock blocked Freddie from grinding on her. Celeste marveled at how sensually Terry moved on her. That big dick print of his felt nice between her cheeks. He laced his fingers with hers, and they kept their arms up in the air together, dancing to the raucous beat in total sync, moving along with the sea of exuberant faces flowing toward another street intersection.

At a crossroads, two other tribes faced off on a street corner, singing chants and challenges about who sewed the prettiest suits. Big Chief's singing voice carried over the hundreds of heads near Celeste. It soared across the hundreds more behind them. The Wild Treme's Spyboy stopped and hollered a boastful rhyme about the prettiest chief around. She kept a smug look on her face as no other tribal suit could rival the skills of her grandfather. Her cousin Angie preened in a gorgeous tribal suit, representing the queen of their tribe with grace standing next to Big Chief.

By late afternoon, Avis passed around a flask filled with spiced dark rum and they shared oyster po'boy sandwiches from a middle-aged Korean man who set up shop on the corner of Treme and Governor Nicholls street. She finally witnessed Terry eating something when he took a few bites from her sandwich. All around them, people walked, danced, and shuffled along, following whatever tribes they could catch sight of.

"That's my church," she said to him.

Across the street was St. Augustine church. Since Hurricane Ida, the main sanctuary had closed for roof repairs. Celeste and other parishioners held Mass in the Parish Hall for the time being. She pulled Terry over to see a special part of her church, pointing out a giant rusting iron cross made of giant chain locks sitting on the ground and tilted on its side, marking the hallowed ground of the unknown slave. Several medieval-looking metal shackles hung from the body of the cross.

Terry stood a respectful distance from it. His once joyous emerald eyes dulled in solemn reverence.

"Avis, may I see your flask for a minute?" he asked.

They all thought he wanted a sip, but he stooped down to one knee, unscrewed the cap and poured out some rum. Celeste crossed her arms in front of her midsection. Her friends watched him from the side.

"Awhile back, they started finding so many unmarked slave graves that our church wanted to remind everyone about it. I was a little girl when Father LeDoux, our old priest, and the parishioners placed it here. It honors all the enslaved lost to us."

"It's a holy place," Terry said.

His voice was so soft and trembled with emotion. Celeste ran a gentle hand across his scalp and plucked a cowrie shell from her costume and placed it on top of the spot where Terry soaked the ground with rum.

"Father LeDoux passed on five years ago. But he left us this memorial to cherish."

"Sister Celeste, I thought that was you."

Father Mbenga, the new priest recently assigned to St. Augustine, pushed his glasses up on his nose and gave her a warm smile.

"Father Mbenga," Celeste said.

Her friends slipped away across the street, avoiding any church talk while they were tipsy, leaving her alone with Terry.

"I will see you tomorrow in the Parish Hall no doubt?"

"I'll be here."

Terry rose to his feet and wiped his hands. He held Avis's flask behind his back.

"Father, this is my friend Terry. He's visiting from out of town."

Father Mbenga held out his hand. Terry was hesitant at first, but he offered his free hand.

"Young man, you are very welcome to attend Mass. We have a wonderful Ash Wednesday service and newcomers always have a church home here."

Terry nodded and gave a weak smile, humoring the man.

"Don't let me hold up all your fun. I wanted to say hello since I heard your voice."

Celeste tugged on Terry's arm and pulled him away.

"You don't have to go with me tomorrow."

"He invited me. I'll go with you."

She grinned, happy that he wanted to stay longer with her.

"Don't you have to see Miss Irma tomorrow, too?"

"I'll see her. Thinking about staying a little longer."

"Yeah?"

Celeste's cheeks nearly touched the sky with happiness.

"You not tired of me yet?" he asked.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and rubbed her nose against his.

"Not yet," she whispered.

He lowered his lips and kissed her out in the open. After the sweet moment, she pointed out parts of the church building, especially the refurbished bell on top of the belfry, and proudly bragged that it was the first Black Catholic Church in the country.

"You love this church, don't you?" he said.

"I sure do. We're hoping the main sanctuary will open back up in the fall. I can't wait. So many memories here. Weddings. Christenings. My confirmation. It's been standing here since 1841. Hurricanes still can't knock it down. In a couple of decades, it'll be 200 years old. Imagine being around for that long, huh?"

Terry glanced at her, and a weird expression washed over his face. It passed quickly, and he held her hand tight.

They rejoined her friends to mingle and drink until the sun lowered. The Quarter jumped and so did they, bar hopping all night. Celeste knew it was time to pack it in when Terry kept rubbing on her booty and nibbling her ear, whispering nasty things that warmed her face up. He exuded so much charisma that people stepped out of their way wherever they went just to watch him pass by. Even she fawned over him, feeling like she had won the lottery with such an attentive man.

Doubt crept into her mind as they interacted with people and the liquor in her system marinated on her brain. Other women flirted with him when they thought she wasn't looking, and an uncomfortable and familiar sensation pestered her. Insecurity. He was a complete stranger blowing through the city. There might be an entire complicated life hidden away somewhere, with women and kids involved. Once, while they were in bed listening to music and sharing random thoughts about life, she asked Terry if he had any social media. He said he didn't like being online. She let it go. Watching him move confidently through the party atmosphere and drunken revelry, she didn't want to trust anything shining like gold that fell into her lap easily. There might be a lump of coal in the middle of it. Freddie had been charming and attentive, too. He'd said all the right things. Gave her good sex. Women had flirted with Freddie when they were out, but this thing she witnessed with Terry was different. He caught the attention of everyone. Men and women. Queer, straight, and everything else there was to be in the world. Every color, creed, and nationality folded when he was near.

Celeste's insecurities got the better of her and she reasoned that their union couldn't last. Men that fine knew it and used it to their advantage. The sooner she conceded to that fact, the easier it would be when he left New Orleans. Whatever fantasy she made up in her head lying in bed with him had to go. Her first step would be to stop sleeping with Terry. She would let him return to his B&B and give her pussy a rest.

Eventually, the time came to say goodnight to her friends. Terry insisted on walking Joyce back to her car to make sure they all got there safely. She had parked in a gated and fenced hotel lot for a fee. They exchanged hugs and kisses with sloppy drunk goodbyes. Joyce had stopped drinking once they hit the Quarter, and she was good to drive back uptown. Celeste and Terry stumbled on a circuitous route back to his B&B . She was determined to drop the magic stick off at his spot and walk home alone to sober up. The further away they moved from the major action of the Quarter, the fewer people they ran into. Even the sound of music dwindled until they arrived at an eclectic little neighborhood B&B with two courtyards and lots of cool roof statues on top of the three little bedroom cottages, two bungalows, and a carriage house. A large Batman figure overlooked the street, along with funny-looking owls with googly eyes, and a couple of squat yellow minions from the animated movie "Despicable Me". Celeste pulled out her phone to snap some pictures of the roofs.

"We should've walked to your place first to get my truck," he said.

"We can still walk over there for you to get it and come back here. I'm just three blocks down, remember?" she said.

"Or you can spend the night here with me and enjoy these silly roof statues?"

She smirked. Nope. She wasn't going to fall for it. Her buzz still had her floating, but she wouldn't be a sucker for some dick.

"What statue do you have on your roof?"

He thought about it for a second.

"I have a courtyard room, and I think it's some anime character. I don't know. They all have a movie theme. Let me run in here and grab a jacket for you and I'll walk you home."

"I'm close by. I can live without a jacket."

"You're shivering…been shivering the last fifteen minutes we were walking. I'm getting you a jacket. C'mon."

He clasped her hand. She pulled away.

"I'll wait here. I have to go to church at eight-thirty and I'm not falling for any tricks to keep me in bed all day."

Terry slapped her butt and walked onto the property. Celeste took another photo of an inflatable green dragon with cartoon eyes and Mardi Gras beads strung around its neck. She ended up taking another picture of it since the first one came out blurry. The flash revealed a statue hidden behind the twisting tail of the dragon. An ornate, yet grotesque looking gargoyle appeared stuck on the slope of the roof. Its three-foot wide stone body showed ornate wings curled into a ball, shielding it from the glare of decorative white string lights hung around the eaves. It blended in perfectly with the roof's russet coloring. She might've missed it if the dragon picture hadn't been so bad. Slanted stone eyes looked down toward the street in a menacing way.

"Ugly little thing," Mercy said under her breath. "Don't even match the aesthetic."

Terry returned and draped a heavy jacket around her shoulders. Celeste bounced as she walked to the strained sounds of music coming from a house several blocks away.

"Today was so much fun," she said.

"I had a good time."

"I promised you would."

"You made it ten times better."

Celeste sang some fun chants for him and once she stood back on her stoop, she pulled the jacket off her shoulders. Handing it to him, she kept her back toward the front door.

"Call me and I'll pick you up in the morning," he said.

"Just come by at eight. I'll be ready."

He climbed the first step and kissed her forehead.

"Rest well," he said.

She watched him climb into his truck and drive away, feeling proud that she had willpower. Regardless, her limbs were exhausted. There was no way to enjoy him bending her like a pretzel again with sore joints.

"Oh, thank you Jesus," she said out loud to the stars and the moon in the sky.

Grateful for a joy-filled day, she entered her home and took a long, hot shower.

Toweling her hair in the living room, she reached for a joint inside the crossbody bag and turned on the TV. Tucking her locs under her satin hair scarf, she caught up on the news segments showing the celebrations all throughout the city and smoked. She flipped through channels and paused on a late night news broadcast because of two faces highlighted on the screen. The two white guys from the Quarter that tried to lure her away from her friends.

Carl and Jacob.

She turned the volume up and learned that they were missing since the night she met them. Despite authorities finding their rental car abandoned near Lake Pontchartrain with no signs of foul play, their family insisted that harm had come to them.

Celeste sat on her sectional recliner, reeling from the story. Had those men convinced her to party with them, she might've ended up missing too. It creeped her out that she may have been one of the last few people to see them before they vanished. Terry, as well.

She turned off the TV and finished smoking her joint, letting it relax the anxiety fighting to control her thinking about Carl and Jacob. In the dark, she rested on her recliner, too lazy to walk to her bedroom. Shifting onto her side, she glanced at her French doors and bolted upright.

That shadowy figure was back. She could see its curved shape behind the curtains. Grabbing a long rain stick she had lying against the wall, she unlocked the doors and ran out to knock whoever it was upside the head. Her motion sensor lights came on and she swung the rain stick wildly about, hoping to strike down the intruder.

A breeze rustled the leaves of her neighbors tree and the flood lights cut out since she wasn't moving anymore. Celeste noticed the shadow of the tree branches moving across her nightgown and doors. That's all it was. The damn tree.

Nothing was out there. Just like the previous night when Terry checked her yard.

She walked back into her cottage, locked the doors and kept the rain stick next to the bed. The weed allowed her to drift on a magic carpet ride of untroubled sleep.

"No more weed," she whispered to herself.

Chapter 8 HERE.

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BUCK & EDDIE IN EVERY EPISODE ↳ 6.13: mixed feelings (1/3)

[Image Description: 10 gifs of Evan Buckley, Eddie Diaz and Christopher Diaz from 9-1-1 season 6, episode 13. The scene is taking place at daytime at the dining table in Buck's loft. Gif 1: Two gifs on a large canvas. First, a shot of Buck coming to sit down with a bowl of popcorn in his hand, squinting as he answers Chris' question about what's the square root of 162, "Well, it's not a perfect square. So that would be 12.727, I think." The shot shifts to Eddie, who looks over at Chris sitting next to him as he checks it on the calculator. Second, Chris says excitedly, "That's right. This is awesome, Dad. Buck knows everything." Eddie pouts slightly, scrunching up his face as he replies, "Yeah, yeah." Gif 2: Two gifs on a large canvas. First, a wide shot of the three of them together as Buck sits down, saying, "Not everything. I—I think it's just the math stuff. Second, Buck, takes a sip of his beer as he says, "Today, on the way to work, I was able to calculate exactly how many gallons of gas I needed to get myself to the firehouse." As he speaks, the shot cuts to Eddie and Chris. Gif 3: 4 smaller gifs on a large canvas. First, while focused on his phone, Eddie asks Buck absently, "Why not just fill it up?" Off screen, Buck replies, "Because figuring it out was more fun." Second, Buck reaches out to garb some popcorn, smiling as he says, "Turns out, I love math." Third, Eddie reads from his phone, "Well, according to this, people can get new cognitive abilites—" Fourth, it cuts to Buck and then back to Eddie as he continues to read, "—After a serious injury to the central nervous system." Gif 4: Two gifs on a large canvas. First, Buck nods seriously, saying, "Ooh, which I—I definitely had. The shot shifts to Eddie, raising his eyebrows at his phone as he says, "Mm. But some doctors are saying it's not a real thing." Second, Buck looks indignant as he says, "Uh, you—you think I've secretly known the square root of 162 all these years and just been holding out?" The shot cuts to Eddie, looking up at him as he speaks. Gif 5: Two gifs on a large canvas. First, earnestly, Buck says, "No, come on. It—It has to be lightning. The shot shifts to Eddie who points at him and says, "Fair point." Second, as Eddie speaks, off screen, saying, "This guy literally got the power of electricity after being struck. Said the lights would turn on and off every time he walked into a room." Buck flexes his hands and squints down at them as if trying to exert a superpower. Gif 6: A shot of Buck looking at Eddie, grinning, as he says, "I wish I got something like that. You know, ESP, or...maybe the ability to see into the future or read people's minds." The shot cuts to Eddie, skeptical as Buck speaks, and then back to Buck again. Gif 7: 4 smaller gifs on a large canvas. First, Buck raises his eyebrows as Eddie says, "Those sound like terrible powers to have." It cuts to Chris, who says, "Maybe this is just the first phase." Second, Chris has just said, "Maybe you'll get more powers the stronger you get." Buck points at Chris enthusiastically, saying, "Yes, like an actual superhero." Third, Eddie tilts his head, saying, "You did get struck by lightning." Fourth, Chris adds, "Classic origin story," And Eddie nods, waving his hand in a told-you-so motion. Gif 8: After Eddie asks Buck what he's gonna do with his new-found superpowers, Buck says, "Ooh," looking intrigued. The shot cuts to Eddie and Chris, Eddie looking amused as Chris says with a mischievous grin, "He could give me the answers to my math homework." Gif 9: Eddie lightly chastises Chris, grabbing a page from his hand, saying, "Uh-uh. Uh-uh-uh-uh. You're never gonna learn if he gives you the answers. In the background of the shot, Buck smiles and laughs fondly at them, ducking his head. Gif 10: Smiling brightly and joyfully at Eddie and Chris, Buck tilts his head, reaching across the table as he says, "I'm the guy with the answers. I kind of like it." /End ID]

[mind-empty-just-fictional-people]

The Art of Stealth

masterlist

summary: jason doesn’t seem to understand the art of sneaking into your dorm room quietly

pairing: jason teague x female reader

rating: R for language

word count: 0.9k

warnings: none really, language, bed sharing, jason being adorable, tooth rotting fluff

timeline: set before the show, so no real spoilers

author’s note: i looove this character so much and i really wish he was in more than 20 episodes :,,)

You and Jason started dating when you were Sophomores in High School. You were there for him each football game to cheer from the bleachers, and when he got accepted to Metropolis University you were both overjoyed. When you also got accepted, Jason was that much more excited about going to college.

Suddenly all the trips back to Smallville he’d been mapping out had no need to be taken and he could simply see you on campus.

Jason was part of a fraternity with his teammates, but you hadn’t joined a sorority. So, Jason would sneak into your dorm room. However, he wasn’t very good at the actual sneaking part.

**

A loud crash woke you up and you grabbed the baseball bat from under your bed. You were ready to whack the shadowy figure that had climbed through your window when you heard his voice.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Jason groaned. “God, you need to put some pillows under the window or something.”

“Jason? What the hell are you doing?”

“Visiting my girlfriend? So we can sleep in the same bed?” He stood up, a smile on his face. “What? It’s Saturday, everyone’s sleeping in and no one will notice I’m in here!”

“You’re adorable, but if you get caught in the girl’s wing you could get expelled!”

“You kidding? Who could expel this adorable face?” He was still smiling as you turned on your light and tossed the bat onto your bed.

“How do you look so cute right now? You just fell into my room!” you laughed a little.

“Awe you love me, don’t you?”

“I really do.” You got on your tiptoes and wrapped your arms around his neck, planting a kiss on his full lips. “So much.”

**

You were studying for an upcoming test when you heard a rushed knock at your door. You slowly got up from your chair and walked to the door, the knock continuing up until you opened the door.

“Oh my god, Jason!” you gasped and pulled him into the room quickly. “What the hell?”

“What?” he asked, furrowing his brows and smiling.

“It’s after nine and a weekday! You can’t be here! Did anyone see you? God damn it, Jason if I have to bribe the girl across the hall again I-” He cut you off by grabbing your face and kissing you. “Alright, you’re forgiven.”

“I think I’m getting better at this whole sneaking around thing, though,” he said, walking over to your bed and sitting down. “I’m like ninety-five percent sure no one saw me.” He leaned back and grinned before someone knocked on the door. You motioned for Jason to hide, so he rolled onto the floor.

You opened the door and were met with your smiling neighbor, “Hey Casey, wha- what’re you doing here?”

“I saw Jason come in here, Y/n,” she said flatly. She held out her hand with a smile. “C’mon, girl’s gotta eat!”

“This is so unfair! I see your girlfriend going into your room every night!” you said. You went to your dresser to grab five dollars.

“The perks of being a lesbian, Y/n!” Casey smirked when you handed her the money. “You should try it sometime.” You closed the door.

“Jason, you can come back out,” you told him before he slid out from under the bed.

“You know you’ve got like ten pairs of panties under here?” He smiled up at you from the carpet. You rolled your eyes and held out your hand which he took and used to heave himself off the floor. “Love you,” he said and kissed you.

“Next time I’m sneaking into your place,” you mumbled.

“Ooh no!” He shook his head. “House full of horny guys that might combust if they see you in your tiny pj’s? No thanks, sweetheart.”

“Well then, just slide five dollars under Casey’s door before knocking on mine tomorrow, okay?” you laughed.

**

“Good morning,” you mumbled, snuggling into Jason’s chest. Your eyes suddenly flew open. “Oh my god!”

“Shit,” Jason sighed.

“Shit is right! Hurry up and climb out the window!” you exclaimed, pulling the covers off of him and standing up. “I am not getting expelled just because you haven’t grasped the art of sneaking in and out of my bedroom!”

“Wouldn’t it be smarter to just act like I came here early in the morning?” he asked. He stood up and put his pants on from the night before. “If anyone asks, you can say you had to help me study?”

“Yeah, that makes sense.” You nodded a little, looking into his bright green eyes. You then shook your head, “Wait, no it doesn’t! Stop giving me that look that makes me do anything for you and just hurry out of here before someone sees you!”

He grinned, “You really are a sucker for this smile, aren’t you?”

“I really, really am so please get out of this room before I fold and jump back into bed with you!”

“I love you,” he said before he kissed you. He then put his shirt on, kissed you again, and climbed out the window. “See you in class, my love!” He peeked his head into your room and you kissed him one last time before he left for good and you closed the window.

“My love?” You scrunched up your face a little. “Who talks like that?” You laughed lightly then groaned to yourself, “god damn it, I love him so much!”

[missamyrisa2]

Miss Amy, how would you react to stumbling upon a ticklish girl in a sticky situation? Say she’s gotten herself stuck through a trap door, with her arms and head through one side and the rest of her body through the other. And uh oh, she’s nude and oh so sensitive all over her body…just begging for tickles. Would you make her gigglegasm over and over again, would you taunt her and coo little teases at her.

Just curious👀

Why of course I'd do exactly what an adorable stuck cutie needs and that's to come around to your blushy helpless face and give you all my faux concern. "Awww what happened here huh? You got your little booty stuck in that mean ol' trap door? Oooh such a meanie, that thing is always catching cutie patooties with the cutie tushies. Now, the thing is, we can't just pull you free noooo. That wouldn't be good for you and wouldn't be good for the door either. Yes, we love our precious door. And so there is a way to get you out lickey split and we're gonna do that. So first I neeeed ahhh~" I grin as I talk fast through the explanation, reaching seemingly to nowhere and returning with a stiff white feather. "Let's start here, shall we? Ooh look at this one, this is a good feather mhmm. Soo soft on the edge yet stiff enough to make all the difference." I run my fingers over my tool and snicker squeak at the sensation before I turn it towards you, pointing at your silly self in the trap door. "Now now now we can't have you stuck in here and the only way you're gonna wriggle free is with some, ahem, unorthodox treatments. Now tell me, are you ticklish?"

I probe and inquire yet don't give you time to respond as I draw the feather tip up along face to your ears, quickly picking up another to taunt your other side and neck. "Coochie coooo ~ just let it all out now." I murmur matter of fact as I work my feathers all over your face and upper chest, sketching ticklyy masterpieces on your lovely sensitive skin. Upon unceremoniously dropping my feathers, I dart back to the table of tools and in a fluid motion show you the softness of the fluffy duster and head quickly to your other side to begin employing my new tool between your legs.

"Tickles, doesn't it?"

With a knowing smile I flutter my tool across your thighs while I reach under and tickle at your kneepits. "ticklish ticklish legsssss" I speak so sweetly, working the feathers all over your belly and waist and thighs, just trying to get arousal going. And once I've grown attired of the duster, I toss it aside and return to the front so I can grin so tauntingly at you as I produce a container of massage oil and an ultra supple body brush. I carefully open the oil and begin oiling up my brushy. "You know where it's goin~" I snicker making sure you see alll the preparation before I scamper around to your backside again.

"Ahhh ahhhhh ~ that does ittttt~" With careful precision my brush begins going up and down your royal parts, gliding with the soft oils all the way upppp to your button, all the wayyy downnnnn~

"Coochie cooooo~" I laugh it out loud, rolling the wand along your undies while I lean in and start peppering you with kisses though not before making you select the shade of the tinglyyyy lip prints~~

"There we goooo look at youuuuu pretty girl ~ making all those sparkles for your tickle mama mmmmh?"

Your first gigglegasm only encourages me further, as come back around and oil up my fingers in front of you ~ and I raise the speed and taunt your feet with skittery tickles. "Tickle tickle tiiiickle" I taunt, reaching up further on your legs before departing a moment only to return with a vengeance skittering your hips to your sides to your waisttt. "Let's seeeee how many sparklyyy fireworks we can make tonight hmmm?"

(note~~ I'm on so little sleep, through a stressful week which is already starting into another stressful week so if anything here is nonsensical that's whyyyy I had to stop and trim off a lot of times which I don't usually dooo but this post kept getting eaten by thoughts of kings and queens and warriors in the dark, getting stuck somehow in homes and restaurants ~anywayyy all the loves for you loves and I'm hoping to have more time sooon ~<33)

[aclowntiny]

Hiiiiiiiiii! So I have a new hyperfixation

And I'm thinking I totally need to know

Who in ateez is mlt to let you hypnotize them

Ngl hypnotizin your friends (or ur boyfriend) during some game nights or parties seems fun

Ooh interesting! One day late 😅 but a good Halloween post hehe

Most Likely to Let You Hypnotize Them

Most: San, Wooyoung, Hongjoong

Middle: Yunho, Jongho, Yeosang

Least: Seonghwa, Mingi

San is up for anything! He’s adventurous AND he trusts you. Naturally curious, once he hears about it San is eager to experience the sensation, if any, so he may even ask you about it. Preferably without the other members around though if you want to make any embarrassing requests! San isn’t a horror guy, so in his mind this would be much more fun to celebrate Halloween or get into creepy stuff than a haunted house or scary movie! Wooyoung is a lot like his bestie, very curious and up for a challenge. He trusts you too and kind of likes the whole ‘do what you want with me’ vibe! Would probably crack a tom of jokes like ‘ohhhh, what are you going to have me doooo?’ so feel free to shut him down and tell him he’s going to be doing the chicken dance soon! 😏 He also loves the theatrics, so he’ll want all the lights off and every bit of performance you both can put in! For a serious practice, he sure has you guys laughing! Hongjoong would also be down to try it- he’s curious, too, and always looking to explore different muses and ways people express themselves. Who knows, maybe the motions and sensations can inspire things in his mind! It’s also a way to get to know you and he wholeheartedly wants involvement in anything related to your passions, even if it means getting hypnotized! Hongjoong will likely also request it’s just between you two, though, because it is a more personal, vulnerable moment in his eyes.

Yunho is good-natured, so he’d probably laugh the first time you bring it up, then gape and say ‘oh, really?’ But when he sees how serious you are, sure, what the heck? He’s sitting down asking if you’re going to swing a watch in front of his eyes or make him look at swirly stuff. Probably while imitating the swirls in front of his eyes. ‘Wooooo!’ ‘Yunho, you have to be quiet!’ ‘Oh, sorry.’ It’s a fun time, you guys are both laughing by the end of the night and he probably asks you to teach him some new dance moves. Jongho is down, but sort of in the way of ‘prove to me this is real’. He’s very practical and grounded in reality, so without offending you he may be thinking hypnosis is some movie BS or that his mind is strong enough to resist! So it’s a challenge for him, one he’s shrugging and giving you a determined smile into as he sits down. He can’t keep a straight face as you stare deadpan into his eyes, bursting out laughing several times, but he really does want to see what it’s all about even if he just feels he’s watching a performance . After all, you’re his favorite person to watch! Yeosang is kind of similar to Jongho where he isn’t sure he believes it’ll work. He’ll make the most jokes and quips about what you’re going to make him do, but in the end he’ll try it without much actual reluctance. He probably also has questions about how you fell upon this interest in the first place because he’s never known any hypnotists before- not that that’s a huge shock! Probably the best at keeping serious and deadpan once he gets into it because he isn’t sure what to think lol.

Seonghwa is a little hesitant at first, probably asking some questions about if you can bring him back, but it’s just because he takes the art seriously. He’s the type who wants to believe, so it’s something potentially powerful in his mind. Once you assure him you won’t make him do anything bad or do anything to him per se, he sits down, eyes boring into yours so seriously. You may need to reassure him that it’s ok, but he can never say no to you, don’t worry! Mingi is so the type to talk tough when you bring it up, but when you sit him down to do it he’s like ‘Wait whoa what about-’ and then he has a bunch of questions. He’s sort of 50-50 on if he believes, but he doesn’t want to be wrong if he laughs it off so he asks questions on if it’s permanent or if he’s going to get haunted. In the past, he has mentioned being scared of demons and evil spirits, so things like hypnotism even if they aren’t as spiritual would probably elicit some concern. So he’ll want an education on what it really is and entails once he finds out you were serious.

[spectralquartzafterdark]

In your AoE rewrite does Bumblebee ever call out Megatrons feelings for Rosie? I feel like he and Megatron would at least have thst in common since in my opinion Bee loved Charlie 😭

Ooh I actually have this written!

I was a scout. Observation was my job. To look out for anything suspicious. And I only got better at it when I lost my voice. 

This entire mission had felt like a fever dream. When Sam and Optimus told me to stay with Rosie and Megatrons crew I wasn't happy. I knew logically Megatron wasn't a threat, but I didn't trust him. The only saving grace was the fact Jazz was around to keep things light. Rosie always seemed tense and Megatron mirrored her anxiety. A side effect of their interlink no doubt. 

But as we made our way through the Appalachian mountains - I had noticed a small change in the former warlord. One I recognized all too well. It was something I had experienced. Something I still hold a bit of resentment towards Optimus for. 

Megatron was looking at Rosie as if she were his conjunx. This theory was only solidified when he shut down for the night. I had caught him talking in his sleep a few times. It was always Ancient cybertronian. He could hide how his felt. But his spark couldn't. I took note and recordings. Just in case. 

I understood that all too well. I still missed Charlie. It had been decades - and she still lived in my processors. In my spark. I couldn't let another bot suffer like I do. Even if it was a bot I still held hate for. I wouldn't wish this spark break on anyone. Including my worst enemy. 

So, one day when it was just us and the humans and others were in sleep mode. I motioned for him to follow me. 

“Follow me into the dark~” I kept my radio low and he followed me.

“Bumblebee is there something wrong?” He asked.

I looked to him, I pointed at myself and shook my head before I pointed at him and nodded. 

“Gotta talk.” I played and wiggled. 

“Well what is it?” Megatron was getting impatient. 

“I can hear the things that you're dreaming about. When you open up your heart

And the truth comes out.” 

“What in Primus are you talking about?” I Watched his faceplate contort, “I've not said anything.”

“And I know that I'm right. 'Cause I hear it in the night.” I pointed in Rosie's direction. 

“SPIT IT OUT.” that struck a nerve. I was on the right track.

“I hear the secrets that you keep

When you're talking in your sleep.” I just stared at him.

He went still, I finger gunned at him. I patted my chassis and smiled showing him I understood. 

“She's human… I can't…” He started. 

I shook my head and switched the song, “Tell her you need her too. You tell her clearly. Speak what your heart wants you to.”

I was grateful for Spotify and Sirius radio. It made things easy. 

“I… why help me?” He asked. 

“Charlie.” I looked down and trilled. It hurt, but I knew he needed to know. 

“Ah…” I heard him vent and watched as his stance relax, “Why care about my situation?”

“Don't suffer alone.” I let the radio play. 

I watched his face. As he nodded I felt pride. I didn't trust him nor could I ever forgive him for what he had done to us. To cybertron. But I had faith he was serious about this change. And I would support it anyway I could. 

And another cybertronian who loved a human? That was an ally I couldn't push away. If I couldn't have my person - he should. She was good for him. And I could tell she loved him too.

“Thank you… Bumblebee. I'll tell her when I get a chance.” He finally spoke, “I appreciate the faith you've placed in me. I know our history - isn't …”

I whirred to let him know it was okay. 

“I swear I'll atone. I will do better be better. For cybertron… for her.” He said. 

“You go tiger.” I clapped my servos and saluted him as we headed back. 

I notes Rosie was back up and looked distressed as she sleepily reached for Megatron. He chuckled and picked her up and both got nestled in for the night. 

I could see our future in them. And it was bright. Cybertron would rise again and the Earth would be protected for eons to come.

[moonshine999]

The Crows as Taylor Swift albums (pt.3)

because sleep and sanity are out the fucking window

Jesper Fahey : 1989

🎞️ “Everybody here was someone else before // And you can want who you want // Boys and boys and girls and girls” - Welcome To New York 

🎞️ “Nice to meet you, where you been? // I could show you incredible things // Magic, madness, heaven, sin // Saw you there and I thought // “Oh, my God, look at that face // You look like my next mistake // Love's a game, wanna play?"” - Blank Space 

🎞️ “And when we go crashing down, we come back every time // ‘Cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style” - Style 

🎞️ “You took a Polaroid of us // Then discovered (Then discovered) // The rest of the world was black and white // But we were in screaming colour” - Out of the Woods 

🎞️ “I said, "No one has to know what we do" // His hands are in my hair, his clothes are in my room // And his voice is a familiar sound”  - Wildest Dreams 

🎞️ “Tossing, turning // Struggled through the night with someone new // And I could go on and on, on and on // Lantern, burning // Flickered in the night, only you  // But you were still gone, gone, gone” - This Love 

🎞️ “Just grab my hand and don't ever drop it // My love // They are the hunters, we are the foxes // And we run” - I Know Places 

🎞️ “Ten months sober, I must admit // Just because you're clean, don't mean you don't miss it // Ten months older, I won't give in //Now that I'm clean, I'm never gonna risk it“ - Clean 

🎞️ “Haven't you heard what becomes of curious minds? // Ooh, didn't it all seem new and exciting? //I felt your arms twistin' around me” - Wonderland 

🎞️ “No proof, one touch // But you felt enough // You can hear it in the silence, silence, you // You can feel it on the way home, way home, you // You can see it // with the lights out, lights out // You are in love, true love” - You Are In Love 

🎞️ “You keep his shirt // He keeps his word // And for once, you let go // Of your fears and your ghosts // One step, not much // But it said enough” - You Are In Love 

🎞️ “And you understand now why they lost their minds and fought the wars // And why I've spent my whole life tryin' to put it into words” - You Are In Love

🎞️ “‘Cause baby, I could build a castle // Out of all the bricks they threw at me // And every day is like a battle // But every night with us is like a dream // It's poker // He can't see it in my face // But I'm about to play my Ace (ah) // We need love // But all we want is danger // We team up // Then switch sides like a record changer // The rumors are terrible and cruel //But honey, most of them are true” - New Romantics 

🎞️ “Baby, we're the new romantics // Come on, come along with me // Heartbreak is the national anthem // We sing it proudly // We are too busy dancing // To get knocked off our feet // Baby, we're the new romantics // The best people in life are free” - New Romantics

Wylan Van Eck Hendriks : Evermore

🍂 “You know that my train could take you home // Anywhere else is hollow // Begging for you to take my hand // Wreck my plans // That's my man” - willow

🍂 “How evergreen, our group of friends // Don't think we'll say that word again // And soon thev'll have the nerve to deck the halls // That we once walked through” - champagne problems 

🍂 “I don't like anticipating my face in a red flush // I don't like that anyone would die to feel your touch // Everybody wants you // Everybody wonders what it would be like to love you // Walk past, quick brush // I don't like slow motion double vision in rose blush // I don't like that falling feels like flying 'til the bone crush // Everybody wants you” - gold rush

🍂 “I notice everything you do or don't do // You're so much older and wiser, and I // I wait by the door like I'm just a kid // Use my best colors for your portrait // Lay the table with the fancy shit // And watch you tolerate it // If it's all in my head, tell me now // Tell me I've got it wrong somehow // I know my love should be celebrated // But you tolerate it” - tolerate it

🍂 “He reports his missing wife // And I noticed when I passed his house his truck has got some brand new tires // And his mistress moved in // Sleeps in Este's bed and everything // No, there ain't no doubt // Somebody's gotta catch him out” - no body, no crime 

🍂 “Showed you all of my hiding spots // I was dancing when the music stopped// And in the disbelief // I can't face reinvention // I haven't met the new me yet “ - happiness

🍂 “Break my soul in two looking for you // But you're right here // If I can't relate to you anymore // Then who am I related to?” - coney island 

🍂”You're a cowboy like me // Perched in the dark // Telling all the rich folks anything they wanna hear // Like it could be love // I could be the way forward // Only if they pay for it” - cowboy like me 

🍂 “When I dropped my sword // I threw it in the bushes and knocked on your door // And we live in peace // But if someone comes at us // This time, I'm ready” - long story short 

🍂 “Long story short, it was a bad time // Long story short, I survived” - long story short 

🍂 “‘Cause every scrap of you would be taken from me // Watched as you signed your name Marjorie // All your closets of backlogged dreams // And how you left them all to me” - marjorie 

🍂 “You're alive, so alive // And if I didn't know better // I'd think you were singing to me now // If I didn't know better // I'd think you were still around” - marjorie 

🍂 “It cut deep to know ya // Right to the bone // Yes, I got your letter  // Yes, I'm doing better  // I know that it's over  // I don't need your closure” - closure

🍂 “And when I was shipwrecked (can't think of all the cost) // I thought of you (all the things that will be lost now) // In the cracks of light (can we just get a pause?) // I dreamed of you (to be certain we'll be tall again)” - evermore 

🍂 “Sometimes giving up is the strong thing // Sometimes to run is the brave thing // Sometimes walking out is the one thing // That will find you the right thing” - it’s time to go

🍂 “Now he sits on his throne in his palace of bones // Praying to his greed // He's got my past frozen behind glass // But I've got me” - it’s time to go 

(Kaz, Inej, Matthias and Nina are already posted)

[ejzah]

Loved your fic We Swear it’s Not Real. Would you consider making it a multi-chapter? Would love to see an expansion from the beginning of their fake dating.

Hi anon! Sorry this has been sitting in my inbox for so long. As always, time escapes me very easily. I’m not sure if I can commit to an entire multi-chapter fic since I already have so many other long fics in progress. However, I’ll try write a few ficlets highlighting key moments. As with the original story, this is set in season 7 when Kat’s wedding was originally mentioned.

***

A Not So Indecent Proposal

Kensi rubbed her hands over her thighs. She could do this, it would be easy. All she had to do was ask Deeks to be her fake boyfriend. No big deal.

She took a hesitant step towards the bullpen, her eyes zeroing in on Deeks’ bent head. She studied his blonde mass of curls, her stomach squeezing sickeningly with nerves, and she nearly turned back around, stopping herself at the last second.

This exact process had gone on the past three days. Each morning, Kensi came in early, waited for Deeks to arrive, and then engineered a few moments when she could talk to him in private. And each day she’d chickened out before ever saying a word.

Squaring her shoulder, Kensi reminded herself that this was Deeks. She trusted him more than just about anyone, he owed her a favor, and more importantly, she was quickly running out of time.

“Morning Deeks,” she greeted him, making a show like she’d just come in.

“Morning Kensalina.” He stopped working long enough to flash her a short, yet genuine smile, then resumed writing what Kensi recognized as an LAPD form, even from a distance.

“You got a minute?”

“For my partner? Anytime,” Deeks replied, tucking his pen behind his ear, and turning to give Kensi his full attention as she took Sam’s chair.

Folding her hands together over her crossed knees, Kensi drew in a long, calming breath.

“Ok. So, you know my friend Kat is getting married—”

“You mean Kat of the much talked about show ponies and teal decor?”

“Yes. Anyway, um, so there’s been a couple questions about my plus one, or lack of one,” Kensi continued, chuckling nervously. “So, I was wondering if you would, um, consider taking on that role for me.”

Deeks’ face had slowly morphed from intrigued to confused as she spoke. Screwing up one side of his face, he slowly asked,

“Let me get this straight. You want me to be your date to a close friend’s wedding?”

“Shhh!” Waving her hands in a hushing motion, Kensi looked over her shoulder, anticipating one of the team standing within in hearing distance. No one was there, but she lowered her voice all the same.

“No, I’m asking you to pretend to be my plus one,” she corrected.

“Oh, my mistake, big difference,” Deeks teased. Crossing his arms, he leaned back in his chair, mouth spreading in a delighted grin. “So, what exactly made you pick me? My dazzling social skills, my expertise on the dance floor?” He snapped his fingers. “Ooh, I’ve got it. You know how amazing I look in a tux.”

“You know what, if you’re just going to make fun of this, forget it.” Kensi raised her hands, and pushed away from the desk. Before she could get up, Deeks tugged her back down.

“Woah, woah, woah, I’m just messing with you, Kens. I’m sorry.”

Considering him a for a moment, Kensi decided that he seemed genuinely contrite, and rolled her chair back in place.

“I guess I’m a little on edge,” she admitted. “All this wedding planning is more stressful than I anticipated. And as much as I love her, Kat is a total bridezilla.” Deeks chuckled sympathetically as Kensi groaned, pressing her fingertips to her temples. “The woman seems to think that her wedding is the event of the century and needs to outdo Katherine and William’s.”

“Good thing she comes from money and her fiancé is rich,” Deeks commented. He tapped her knee with the back of his hand. “What exactly would my duties be as your prospective plus-one?”

“Accompanying me to any major wedding events,” Kensi told him. “Kat’s calling it her wedding season, so there’s sure to be more than your typical number of events.” She tilted her head slyly. “And of course, you’d expertly play the part of the doting boyfriend so I don’t have to deal with annoying questions, pitying looks, or, most importantly, getting set up with any of Kat’s numerous cousins or single friends.”

“That sounds pretty easy.” Rubbing his bottom lip, Deeks considered her, any teasing absent from his expression. It made Kensi feel more uncomfortable than asking him to be her plus one. “Just one more question. Why me?”

Kensi dipped her head; that was a question she’d dreaded. Not because she thought Deeks would hold the information over her, but rather because it felt like it would be giving too much away. He deserved to know though, so she answered honestly.

“I trust you.” She focused on slightly uneven spot on her jeans. “I trust you to pull me out of laser filled room, have my back when my a bunch of goons with guns are firing at us, and,” she paused. “I trust you with this.”

What she left unsaid was that she trusted Deeks to guard her dignity and play his part without crossing any lines.

“Ok. I’ll do it,” Deeks agreed.

“What—you will?” Kensi blurted out in surprise.

“Yeah. Anything for my partner.”

***

Thanks for the prompt!