#mason jar music

[nathanielbellows]

Live video performance of my song "Keep in Mind," with Mason Jar Music and an ensemble of violins, oboe, clarinet, French horn, and bassoon (arranged by Gabriel Gall) in the woods of Connecticut.

[theghostthathauntsurlocalmansion]

The song transitions on DECIDE between (Change-> Is That All It Takes-> Go For It) make me SO fucking happy

[touslittleworld]

watermelons and drink HD 1080p

New video upload at 06/19/2023

[inkspiredwriting]

Wedding Woes

Five Hargreeves x Fem!reader

Warnings: none

Planning a wedding should be a joyous occasion, but for Five Hargreeves and his fiancée Y/N, it quickly turned into a battlefield of hilarious disagreements. From the moment they decided to tie the knot, every decision seemed to spark a new debate.

“Chocolate!” Five declared, arms crossed, as they sat in the office of Sweet Sensations, the premier bakery in town.

“Red velvet!” Y/N countered, her eyes sparkling with determination.

The baker, caught between the two, held up a tentative hand. “We could do a combination cake?”

Five and Y/N turned to her, then back to each other, shaking their heads simultaneously. “Nope.”

“What’s wrong with red velvet?” Y/N argued, her brow furrowing. “It’s elegant and delicious.”

Five scoffed. “Chocolate is a classic. And I don’t trust a cake that’s named after a fabric.”

“Fine,” Y/N said, rolling her eyes. “What about the design?”

“Simple and clean,” Five said, envisioning a minimalistic cake.

Y/N, however, had other ideas. “I was thinking something with a little more... flair. Maybe some flowers, intricate designs—”

Before Five could retort, Klaus burst into the bakery, trailed by Diego and Luther. “Hey, lovebirds! How’s the cake tasting going?”

Five sighed. “We’re just... debating the finer points.”

Klaus waggled his eyebrows. “Why not go with a giant rainbow cake? It’s festive!”

Diego chuckled. “I vote for something with bacon on it.”

Luther just looked confused. “Do people put bacon on cakes?”

The baker looked like she might faint.

In the end, they settled on a layered cake with alternating tiers of chocolate and red velvet, topped with simple but elegant decorations. It wasn’t exactly what either had envisioned, but it was a compromise—a word that Five was rapidly learning to accept.

Next on the list was the music. Five preferred a live jazz band, while Y/N was leaning toward a playlist of their favorite songs.

“Jazz sets the mood,” Five insisted, adjusting his tie as they met with a potential band leader in their living room.

“Yeah, the mood for a 1920s speakeasy,” Y/N shot back. “We need something more modern, something we can really dance to.”

The band leader, an older gentleman with a pencil-thin mustache, interjected. “We can do a mix, if you’d like?”

Before either could respond, Viktor wandered in, carrying his violin. “Need a musician? I can play Anything you want.”

Five perked up. “Can you do jazz?”

Viktor nodded. “Of course. But I also know some contemporary pieces.”

Y/N’s eyes lit up. “What about ‘You Are the Best Thing’ by Ray LaMontagne?”

Viktor smiled. “I can do that.”

Five threw up his hands. “Fine, let’s have Viktor play. Just... not too much Ray LaMontagne.”

Klaus sauntered in, a mischievous grin on his face. “I could DJ! Imagine the fun we’d have with a mix of 80s pop and punk rock!”

Five stared at him. “Absolutely not.”

When it came to decorations, Five wanted sleek and modern, while Y/N envisioned a romantic, rustic theme.

“We need string lights and mason jars,” Y/N said, flipping through a wedding magazine.

Five groaned. “We’re not having a Pinterest wedding. How about something more sophisticated? Like geometric centerpieces.”

“Geometric?” Y/N laughed. “What are we, hosting a math conference?”

Lila, who had shown up uninvited but was enjoying the chaos, added her two cents. “I think you should go with a theme park idea. Imagine—carnival games, cotton candy, maybe even a Ferris wheel!”

Y/N laughed. “Actually, that sounds kind of fun.”

Five buried his face in his hands. “We’re not turning our wedding into a circus.”

In the end, they settled on a rustic-chic blend with some modern touches—fairy lights and mason jars for Y/N, and sleek tableware and geometric designs for Five. It was a mix that surprisingly worked, combining the best of both their visions.

Even the wedding invitations were a source of contention. Five wanted them to be minimalist and elegant, while Y/N wanted something more whimsical and colorful.

“This font is too boring,” Y/N complained, staring at the sample invite. “It doesn’t scream ‘fun.’”

Five rubbed his temples. “We’re not throwing a rave, Y/N. We’re getting married. It should be timeless.”

Klaus, had another idea. “Why not go with a pop-up invitation? Like those 3D books! People would love that.”

Five shot him a look. “We’re not making pop-up books, Klaus.”

Despite the disagreements, the wedding day arrived, and everything was miraculously coming together. Five and Y/N stood at the altar, their family and friends gathered around them. The setting was a perfect blend of their styles—rustic yet sophisticated, whimsical yet elegant.

As they exchanged vows, Five couldn’t help but smile at Y/N. Despite their differences, their love for each other had only grown stronger through the process. It was clear that, no matter the debates, they were perfect for each other.

When they shared their first kiss as husband and wife, the crowd erupted into applause, and Klaus, predictably, started a slow clap that turned into an impromptu chant of “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”

Five’s siblings had their mishaps—Klaus accidentally spilled champagne on Viktor’s suit, Lila got into a friendly wrestling match with Allison over the bouquet, and Luther accidentally triggered a sound system malfunction that blasted “Never Gonna Give You Up” at full volume during the toasts.

At the end of the night, as they danced under the twinkling lights, Five pulled Y/N close and whispered, “You know, despite all the chaos, I wouldn’t change a thing.”

Y/N smiled up at him, her eyes sparkling. “Not even the part where we almost had a bacon cake?”

Five chuckled. “Not even that. Well... maybe a little.”

Y/N laughed, leaning in to kiss him. “I love you, Five Hargreeves. Even if you have terrible taste in cakes.”

Five grinned, wrapping his arms around her. “And I love you, Y/N Hargreeves. Even if you have questionable taste in everything else.”

As they swayed to the music, surrounded by their chaotic but loving family, Five realized that the debates, the compromises, and the occasional disaster were all part of what made their love story uniquely theirs.

And for Five and Y/N, that was all they ever wanted.

[89pedri]

Leaves in the River | Mason Mount

Pairing: Mason Mount x Reader

Summary: Mason meets a girl on Halloween. She was drunk and he was lost.

Warnings: None? Alcohol?

Word count: 4.7k+

Note: Hi everyone, it's been over a year, I think, since I last posted something here. I'm still out here reading and liking fics, so I thought I'd post this!

Hope you like it!!!

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                                            ‧₊ *:･ﾟ彡       ◌                 ☽︎       ◌

            ◌                                 ✩彡 ･ﾟ *:                                     

                                ◌                                        ◌

It was a chilly Halloween night, with the wind whistling through the streets and carrying the crisp scent of fallen leaves. Inside an old mansion on the outskirts of Manchester, dim candle light flickered, casting eerie shadows on the walls. The grand, creaky rooms were filled with the chatter of unfamiliar faces, their costumes ranging from the elaborate to the absurd. Music thumped through the wooden floors, and costumed revelers were lost in a sea of laughter and dancing.

But Mason, still recovering from a series of injuries, felt strangely detached from it all. At a party he didn’t really want to attend, his teammates had insisted he come along, hoping to lift his spirits. They had been buoyant and energetic at first, eager to immerse themselves in the festivities, but as the night wore on, Mason found himself drifting away from them. Despite their good intentions, he felt more isolated than ever.

While everyone mingled and danced, their laughter and easy conversations seemed to belong to a world that was just out of his reach. Mason had retreated to a quiet corner of the room, nursing a drink as he watched the scene unfold around him. The contrast between their vibrant enjoyment and his own muted existence was jarring. He felt like an outsider, a ghost drifting among the living, disconnected from the energy and warmth that surrounded him.

In all honesty, he was profoundly sad, unable to escape the weight of his unfulfilled potential. Despite his high-profile transfer, his injuries had kept him from truly proving his worth on the field. Each missed match and postponed comeback only deepened his frustration. What he had envisioned as a triumphant return to the top seemed increasingly out of reach. Instead, he found himself sidelined, grappling with feelings of inadequacy and the fear that his time to shine might slip away.

In the midst of his spiraling thoughts, his gaze inadvertently fell upon her.

She stood near the back door, her angel costume strikingly detailed. Her white wings, delicate and meticulously crafted with sparkles, seemed to catch every glimmer of the low light, casting a soft glow. Her flowing dress, made of gauzy fabric, draped around her, creating a shimmering effect as she swayed to the music. Her dark hair fell in loose, damp waves around her shoulders.

Mason had noticed her from the corner of his eye earlier in the evening. At first, she had been a quiet, almost unnoticed presence among the more boisterous guests. As the night wore on, though, she had gradually come into focus. He saw her exchanging friendly nods and small, genuine smiles with those around her, her interactions marked by a warmth that contrasted sharply with the chaotic energy of the party.

Her demeanor was calm and poised, as if she was naturally attuned to the subtle rhythms of social grace. Despite the lively crowd, she seemed to float through the room with an effortless ease. Her presence an oasis of serenity that Mason envied.

In stark contrast, he felt like a mere caricature in his hastily assembled devil costume. The red horns were crooked, and the tail hung limply, clearly a last-minute addition rather than a deliberate choice. 

He wanted to break free from the shadows and join her in the light. Mason's longing to connect with her was intertwined with his deeper yearning for escape from the burdens that plagued him. He wanted to share in the grace she embodied, but he was caught in his own tumultuous reality, unable to bridge the chasm that separated their worlds.

He took a deep swig of his drink, the warmth of the alcohol offering a fleeting sense of courage. Gathering his resolve, he pushed through the sea of revelers and approached her cautiously, each step heavy with a mix of curiosity and hesitation. When he was close enough, he cleared his throat, trying to sound casual.

 “Hey,” he said, aiming for a nonchalant tone. “You okay?”

She looked up, momentarily surprised to see him. Her deep, soulful brown eyes revealed a trace of sadness he hadn’t noticed before, but she greeted him with a cheeky smile. 

“Yeah,” she replied softly, her voice laced with playful mischief. “I’m just not really feeling the vibe tonight. It’s funny, though—feels like a devil’s been watching me all night. I guess I’m just not in the mood for the attention.” Her gaze lingered on him, amusement dancing in her eyes.

Mason couldn’t help but smile at her playful comment. “Well, I promise not to be too devilish. How about I get you another drink first? Maybe something strong enough to fend off any lingering devils.” He gestured towards the drinks table, his tone light and inviting. “Then, if you’re up for it, we can get out of here for a bit. A walk might be just what we both need.”

Her eyes brightened at the offer, and she gave him a warm, grateful smile. “That sounds perfect. I’d love a drink. Thanks.” She glanced towards the drinks table, then back at him, curiosity evident as she awaited his return.

Mason nodded and headed to the drinks table, grabbing two shot glasses filled with vodka. He returned to her, offering one of the shots with a smile. “Here you go,” he said. “A little liquid courage before we head out.”

She accepted the glass and, with a playful glint in her eye, raised it in a toast. “To escaping the chaos,” she said, her voice light but sincere.

Mason clinked his glass against hers. “To a change of scenery,” he replied, and they both took their shots simultaneously.

Without missing a beat, she tilted the glass to her lips and downed the liquor in one swift motion. The strong, burning sensation seemed to clear her head, and she let out a small, satisfied breath as she set the empty glass down.

“Much better,” she said with a hint of relief in her voice.

Mason followed suit, feeling the warmth of the vodka spread through him. “Glad you think so. Ready for that walk?” he asked, gesturing toward the door.

As they stepped out of the mansion into the cool night air, Mason noticed her shivering slightly, her costume offering little protection against the chill. Without hesitation, he removed his jacket and held it out to her.

 “Here,” he said, his voice warm against the night. “You look like you could use this.”

She looked at the jacket, then up at him with a grateful smile. “Thank you,” she said softly, accepting the garment. She slipped it around her shoulders with a sigh of relief. The jacket, slightly too big for her, enveloped her in its warmth, the fabric soft and comforting against the evening’s cold.

With the jacket now draped over her, they began to walk down the empty streets. The dim street lights cast long, eerie shadows on the wet pavement, and the quiet was a stark contrast to the noisy party they had left behind. The crisp night air felt refreshing, and the occasional rustle of leaves underfoot added a gentle rhythm to their steps. The transition from the raucous indoor atmosphere to the serene garden path was a welcome change, and the soft crunch of leaves beneath their feet provided a soothing backdrop to their conversation as they walked side by side.

The rain began almost immediately, starting as a gentle drizzle that caressed their skin and soon growing into a steady shower. Mason glanced over at her, intrigued by how she seemed to blend effortlessly with the night, moving with a fluid grace as if the rain and deserted streets were part of her natural element. Her presence felt both refreshing and enigmatic. The steady shower created a quiet cocoon around them, offering a brief respite from his struggles.

Mason looked at her with a playful smile. “As much as I'd love to call you my angel,” he said with a chuckle, “I’d really like to know your real name.”

Her eyes sparkled with amusement, and she offered a warm, inviting smile. “It’s Y/N,” she replied.

“Well, Y/N,” Mason continued, trying to keep the conversation light, “what brings you to this part of town on Halloween?”

She paused, her gaze momentarily flicking to him before drifting away, as if searching for the right words. “My friend works for Man U,” she began, her voice soft and thoughtful. “She’s a PR assistant and dragged me along tonight because she thought it would be fun. I didn’t really want to come, but she insisted. Said it would be good for me to get out. Plus,” she added with a grin, gesturing to her costume, “it gave me an excuse to finally wear this. It’s been collecting dust in my closet for a while, waiting for the right occasion.”

Mason felt a flush of warmth mixed with a tinge of embarrassment at the mention of his new team, unsure if she had recognized him. “So,” he began, striving for a casual tone, “do you follow football at all, are you familiar with the team?” His curiosity got the better of him.

Her eyes sparkled as she met his gaze. “Oh, I definitely know who you are, Mason, if that’s what you’re asking,” she replied with a warm, teasing tone. “I recognized you and your friends the moment you walked in. My old friend was a huge fan of Chelsea—we used to watch your matches together all the time. I figured it was better to keep it cool around you, though.”

Mason chuckled, finding her candor refreshing. “And how’s that ‘cool’ act working out for you?” he asked with a teasing grin, feeling a rare sense of ease as their conversation flowed.

Y/N laughed, her laughter mingling with the rhythmic patter of the rain. “Not too badly, I’d say. Although,” she added with a playful smirk, “I must say it’s quite hard to stay cool when the devil is walking beside me.” 

Mason smiled. “Well, I’d hate to think I’m ruining your ‘cool’ vibe,” he said, his tone playful. “But if it helps, I promise I’m actually pretty cool and down-to-earth once you get to know me.”

He glanced sideways at her, his expression softening. “Besides,” he added with a hint of sincerity, “it’s nice to have a break from the usual football talk. It’s refreshing to just be… well, me, for a change.”

They continued walking, the rain soaking through their clothes, but neither seemed to mind. The slick, soft leaves beneath their feet created a gentle, almost soothing sound as they moved. Aside from the steady rhythm of the rain, the only other sound was the rustling of foliage, adding to the serene atmosphere. Mason felt an unusual sense of tranquility, as if the weight of his worries had momentarily lifted. He glanced at Y/N, growing more intrigued by her presence by the minute.

“Well, since you know what I do,” Mason said with a grin, “it’s only fair you share what you’re up to.”

Y/N continued with a hint of excitement. “I’ve been freelancing in PR, primarily for healthcare and sports clinics lately. I’m also currently studying for my Master’s in Marketing, focusing on how to build and enhance brand identities. This visit to Manchester is, well, a chance to rediscover the city and see if it could be the right place for me. I’m hoping to find a role where I can blend my PR skills with marketing work.”

Mason’s gaze lingered on her, clearly impressed. “So, pretty and smart.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile forming on her lips. “How often do you use that line?”

“Only when I’m talking to pretty and smart girls,” Mason replied with a playful grin.

Mason’s curiosity about Y/N’s ambitions grew. “Do you think you’d want to work in football, like your friend, eventually?” he asked, genuinely interested.

Y/N considered the question for a moment, her eyes catching the soft glow of the streetlights. “I hadn’t really thought about it seriously,” she admitted. “I’ve always had a passion for sports, and working in sports PR does sound intriguing. However, I’m more focused on helping organizations craft their public image in impactful ways. Still, if a compelling opportunity in sports came along, I wouldn’t completely rule it out.”

Mason nodded thoughtfully, taking in her words. “It sounds like you’re open to possibilities, which is a great mindset to have. Sometimes, the best opportunities come from unexpected places. Plus, having a passion for what you do makes all the difference.”

Y/N smiled, her expression thoughtful and appreciative. “Thanks, Mason. I guess we’ll see where my journey takes me. For now, I’m enjoying the chance to explore Manchester and see what the future holds. And, who knows? Maybe one day, I’ll find myself working on campaigns for someone like you.”

Mason threw his head back in laughter, the sound genuine and warm. “I’d be lucky to have someone as talented as you working on my brand,” he said with a grin.

He paused, his expression turning serious but sincere. “You know, if you’re really considering a move up North, I could put in a good word for you. I know people in Manchester, a little nudge from someone in the industry might be just what you need.”

Y/N’s eyes widened slightly, touched by the offer. “That’s incredibly kind of you, Mason. I really appreciate it.”

Mason gave her a reassuring smile. “Of course. Sometimes, a bit of support can make all the difference.”

They walked in companionable silence, the steady rhythm of the rain creating a soothing backdrop. Y/N eventually slowed her pace, her gaze shifting as she took in her surroundings, her expression thoughtful. After a moment, she pointed to a small, unassuming brick house a little further down the street. “I grew up there,” she said, her voice carrying a hint of nostalgia. “I haven’t been back in years.”

Mason glanced at the house. It stood quietly, the darkness of the night making its features almost indistinguishable. The windows were dark and empty, and the front yard, strewn with fallen leaves. Despite its wear, there was a subtle warmth to it, a sense of memories lingering in the chilly night air.

Mason noticed the wistful look on Y/N’s face and felt a surge of empathy. “Do you want to stop for a bit? Maybe stand by the porch before the new owners notice?” he asked gently, his tone reflecting his understanding of the significance of the moment.

She nodded, her eyes lingering on the house as if trying to piece together fragments of her past. They paused on the sidewalk, the rain continuing to fall softly around them. Mason stood beside her, offering her the space to take in the familiar yet distant sight, allowing the moment to be hers.

Y/N led him to the front steps, then took a seat on the pavement, patting the space beside her in a silent invitation. Mason, understanding her unspoken offer, settled down next to her. They sat together in the rain, the steady downpour creating a private, intimate cocoon around them. The coolness of the night contrasted with the warmth of their shared presence, as they both took solace in the quiet moment.

Mason noticed a handprint in the cement of the stairs leading to the door beside where he was sitting, weathered and faded with time. Y/N spotted it at the same moment and leaned forward to trace it with her fingers, her touch light and contemplative. As she moved closer, their proximity became more apparent, and she suddenly seemed aware of the compromising position they were in. With a soft, almost shy smile, she pulled back slightly, her cheeks flushing from both the rain and the closeness they had unexpectedly shared.

“This is where I used to live until I went off to university,” she said quietly, her voice nearly drowned out by the rain. “My parents moved back to their home country a few years ago and sold the house. I haven’t been back since. This place holds so many memories.”

She hesitated, grappling with the vulnerability of their newfound closeness. “Remember the old friend I mentioned, the one who used to watch your games with me?” Mason nodded. “He was my ex,” she continued, her voice wavering. “He was—still is—a huge Chelsea fan. We spent so much time here during high school. We were young, I thought we’d be together forever but at a certain point it became obvious it wouldn’t work out between us. We stayed in that relationship far too long, but It’s strange, really. I’m over him but being here, I guess it brings back all these memories. It’s odd to see how much has changed.”

Y/N looked down, her expression clouded with a mix of nostalgia and sadness. “Coming back here makes me realize how much has shifted in my life. It’s like I’m caught between who I thought I’d become and where I actually am. I was so full of dreams back then, but now it feels like things are less figured out than I’d hoped. It’s a reminder of how much can change, and how you can end up somewhere you never expected, I guess.”

Mason listened intently, his own sense of vulnerability rising to the surface. The rain mingled with his thoughts as he took a deep breath, trying to steady his emotions. “I get that,” he said, his tone thoughtful. “I’ve been dealing with similar feelings, sort of. My injuries and missed games have left me feeling adrift, as if my dreams and reality are worlds apart. I envisioned this triumphant return, a chance to prove myself and silence the critics. But with every setback, that vision seems to slip further away. It’s like I’m stuck between who I was and who I want to become, and finding that balance has been incredibly challenging.”

He paused, searching for the right words. “Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever get back to where I was or if I need to chart a new path altogether. It’s hard to come to terms with feeling disconnected from what once defined you.”

Y/N looked at him with a warm, encouraging smile. “You know,” she said softly, before settling her hand on his knee, “it’s really admirable how you’re facing all of this. I believe in you and I’m confident that your comeback will be amazing. I suppose that sometimes, we have to go through these tough times before we can truly appreciate the good times.”

Mason’s lips curled into a half-smile, comforted by her words. Her eyes were filled with genuine sincerity as she continued, “Even if things seem out of reach right now, remember there are people who believe in you and are rooting for your success.”

He paused, letting her words settle in. “Thank you, Y/N,” he said sincerely. “Hearing that means more than I can say, especially right now. It’s so easy to get lost in setbacks and forget why I’m here.”

He glanced around at the rain-soaked streets, then turned his gaze back to her. “Coming back to familiar places can bring up old memories, but it also offers a chance to see how far we’ve come. It’s like reconnecting with the past while looking forward to the future.”

Y/N chuckled, raising an eyebrow playfully. “Quite the philosopher are you?” she teased, letting his words resonate.

Mason gave her a playful smirk. “And quite the conversationalist yourself. Do you normally open up so much to someone you’ve just met, or is it the rain that’s making us more candid than usual?”

Y/N glanced up, a gentle blush rising to her cheeks as she looked away, nervously adjusting the hem of his damp jacket. “I don’t usually open up like this, especially to someone I’ve just met,” she admitted, her voice soft. “I suppose the drinks have loosened my tongue quite a bit more than I intended.”

Mason’s gaze softened, and he smiled warmly. “Don’t be shy. I find it quite endearing,” he said gently. 

She met his gaze, her eyes reflecting a mix of apology and vulnerability. “I guess tonight’s been a bit more revealing than I planned,” she said, her voice tinged with a hint of embarrassment. “I didn’t mean to unload all of this on you.”

Mason’s smile was warm and understanding as he responded with a gentle chuckle. “It’s okay,” he reassured her. “Sometimes, talking to someone you don’t know well— yet,” he added carefully— “can make it easier to share. And as much as I’ve enjoyed hearing about your past… if you end up spending more time here and need someone to help you make new memories in Manchester—or just to distract you from the old ones—I’m around.”

Y/N’s laughter was soft, her blush deepening but her demeanor relaxing as she looked at him with newfound ease. Her hand slipped into Mason’s, her fingers cold against his skin, but the touch was reassuring, grounding them both.

“Come on,” she said, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “It’s getting late. Would you walk me back to my friend’s flat?”

Mason smiled warmly and nodded. “Absolutely.”

Before they stood up, Y/N leaned in close, her breath warm against Mason’s ear. “And hey,” she whispered with a playful tone, “I promise you a kiss as soon as we get there.”

Mason’s heart skipped a beat at her words, and he chuckled softly. “I’m looking forward to it,” he replied, squeezing her hand gently as they rose to their feet.

As they wandered through the quiet, rain-soaked streets, Mason found himself increasingly captivated by Y/N. Her lightheartedness and playful energy were a welcome change from the weight of his recent struggles. Despite her costume clinging damply to her frame, she seemed utterly carefree, her spirit untainted by the rain. Mason laughed more freely than he had in weeks, their conversation flowing effortlessly.

Suddenly, Y/N let go of his hand and darted ahead, twirling around with a joyous grin. Her laughter echoed through the empty streets, and Mason felt a warmth spread through him. Her exuberance was contagious, lifting him out of his own concerns.

“Hurry up, slowpoke!” she called over her shoulder, her voice vibrant with challenge.

Mason quickened his pace, his grin widening. “Why should I hurry?” he teased.

Y/N’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Because if you don’t, I might just have to reconsider that kiss I promised.”

Determined not to miss out, Mason quickened his pace, closing the distance between them. As he reached Y/N, he wrapped his arms around her waist, his hands resting lightly against the small of her back and pulling her close. He buried his face in her damp hair for a moment, breathing in her scent, feeling the warmth of her body even through the soaked fabric.

As they stood there, Mason looked down at Y/N with a contented smile. His arms still encircled her waist, holding her close despite the chill of the rain. He took a deep breath, savoring the closeness and the warmth she radiated. “You know,” he said softly, his voice carrying a blend of amusement and affection, “I know you promised me a kiss when we got there, but this moment feels pretty perfect too.”

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes sparkling with a mix of surprise and delight. “Oh, really?” she teased, her lips curling into a playful smile.

Mason nodded, his gaze steady and earnest. “Yeah, I think this moment is as good as any other.”

Before she could reply, Mason gently tilted her chin up with a tender touch. His fingers lingered for a moment, brushing against her skin with warmth and reverence. Their eyes locked, and for a suspended instant, the world seemed to pause. The steady rain created a soft, rhythmic backdrop that blurred their surroundings, making their shared space feel intimate and isolated.

Mason leaned in slowly, his breath mingling with hers as the distance between them closed. The cool droplets of rain kissed their faces, but it was the warmth of their connection that captured their full attention. When their lips finally met, the kiss was tender and deliberate, a gentle exploration that deepened as they became more attuned to each other. It was both soothing and electrifying, a beautiful contrast to the chill of the rain that clung to their clothes.

Y/N looked up at Mason, her smile still glowing from their shared kiss. “Let’s keep walking,” she said softly, slipping her hand back into his.

Mason nodded with a warm smile. “Okay,” he replied, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze.

As they continued their stroll toward the flat, Y/N glanced over at Mason, a playful smile on her lips. “Tonight’s been quite the adventure,” she said, her tone light and cheerful. 

Mason chuckled softly, his eyes sparkling with genuine amusement. “I know what you mean.”

As they arrive to the flat, their eyes exchanged more than words ever could, conveying a silent understanding and connection that spoke volumes.

“Before we part ways,” Mason said with a playful glint in his eye, pulling out his phone and opening the contacts app, “I’d like to make sure I can stay in touch with my favourite angel.”

He typed “Angel I Met on Halloween” into the contact name field with a coy smile and handed the phone to Y/N. Her eyes sparkled with amusement as she took it from him, her smile widening.

“Alright,” she replied, her tone warm as she began typing her number into the phone. Her fingers moved gracefully across the screen, and she glanced up at him with a mix of curiosity and enjoyment.

Once she finished, she handed the phone back to Mason, who gave her a satisfied nod. “Perfect,” he said, saving the contact. “I wanted to make sure I could keep you updated on how my injury recovery is going,” he added with a hint of playfulness.

Y/N smiled softly. “Sounds good to me.”

“And if you’re up for it,” Mason continued with a shy smile, “maybe I could even arrange a spot for you in a box when I’m back on the pitch.”

Y/N’s eyes lit up. “That sounds like a plan.”

Mason nodded, his smile broadening. “Great. I’ll be sure to reach out.”

“I’ll be looking forward to it.”

As Y/N turned toward the flat, Mason gently touched her arm, his expression a mix of anticipation and coyness.

“You know,” he said, his voice light and teasing, “you did promise me a kiss as soon as we got here, remember?”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips. “Well, aren’t you the greedy one?” she teased, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

Mason’s grin widened, his gaze sincere. “I think it’s only fair,” he replied, his tone warm.

With a soft laugh, Y/N leaned in, her eyes meeting his with a playful glint. Their lips brushed in a brief but sweet kiss, leaving a lingering warmth. She pulled back, her smile soft and genuine.

“There you go,” she said, her voice filled with affectionate playfulness. “Until next time, Devil.”

“Goodnight, Y/N,” Mason called softly as she turned to head inside.

“Goodnight, Mason,” she replied over her shoulder, her voice carrying a hint of warmth.

Mason watched her enter the flat, his heart feeling lighter than it had in weeks.

 ◌                             ◌                                       ◌           

                                            ‧₊ *:･ﾟ彡       ◌                 ☽︎       ◌

            ◌                                 ✩彡 ･ﾟ *:                                     

                                ◌                                        ◌

Please give me your thoughts and request any ideas you have because I loveeee to write based on a concept!!!! :")

[thebeast-dennis-etcetera]

Girls Night

“You owe me 200!”

“Fine! Just take all my money!”

You laughed, throwing the paper money at her and taking a sip of your wine. It was safe to say that you sucked at playing Monopoly. Ellie had ownership of all the railroads and utilities, Abby had at least 2 hotels on each of her properties, and Alex spent most of her time in jail.

It still wasn’t a match for you, who had 25 dollars to your name, 2 properties that only generated around 30.00 total in rent, and would miss the free parking space every chance you got. When your time came and you rolled the cursed dice, the Monopoly Gods decided to end your pathetic gaming reign by putting you in jail.

“Alright, well I’m out,” you stated defeatedly, taking a long sip of wine as your confirmation.

“Aw, it’s alright Y/N. Maybe you’ll do better the next game!” Abby tried but you shook your head with a quickness.

“Absolutely not. Not only is this game rigged to make me realize how terrible of a homeowner I am, but it lasts forever! Alex knows, she’s been in jail for the last three turns.”

“Hey, I don’t mind it. I just collect all my rent money while I’m in here,” Alex retorted.

You laughed as you heard the front door open and saw Jethro walk in with a grocery bag and a bottle of whiskey. You got up from your spot immediately, happy to see him home finally and walked over as he set the stuff down on the kitchen counter. He had let the team go home earlier in the night but told you he needed to stay behind to do some paperwork on their latest case. Abby was the first one to suggest the girls game night and it didn’t take much convincing of Ellie or Alex when the promise of wine, snacks, and a warm fire were included.

“Hey hun. You just missed my embarrassing defeat in Monopoly. Remind me to never play this game with your team again, they’re entirely too good. And I think Abby’s been hiding all the good chance cards up her sleeve.”

He chuckled as you gave him a welcome home kiss and started noisily poking around in the goods he had brought home.

“Ooh. Chips, dip and whiskey? You trying to butter me up sir?”

He smiled and pried the bottle from your hands. “Whiskeys mine. And it sounds to me like you’re already buttered up,” he teased softly, not wanting his special agents to hear your two’s playful PDA. With another small kiss, he walked out to the group of girls and surveyed the real estate war.

“Doing well Abbs. Bishop, I like your strategy. And Quinn, stop hiding in jail.”

“I’m not hiding! I’m just taking my time,” she defended as everyone laughed.

“I’ll be downstairs if you girls need me. Good night.”

They called out their farewells as he made his way into his little woodworking dungeon and you took your spot back, bringing the new snacks with you.

“Alright Banker Abby. I need a loan,” you pleaded.

————

The clock read 11 pm once the girls left and you cleaned up your game space. In the end, it was Ellie who won, most likely due to her incredible NSA analysis skills and you had ended up with at least more than the small loan Banker Abby gave you. Once you put all the furniture back and glassware in the dishwasher, you made your way downstairs to see Jethro.

There was light country music and a muted tv playing as you watched him slowly move the sandpaper over his newest project. He had finished the boat a while back and offered to build you some beautiful planter boxes for the garden you wanted to start once spring came around.

It was always a treat for you when you watched him work. His movements were smooth and calculated, knowing just how much pressure to apply or what angle to use and seeing him wearing his tool belt and covered in sawdust just did it for you.

“You gonna stand there all night?” he called out with a smirk.

Walking over, you hopped up on one of the counters and took a small sip of his mason jar whiskey, slightly cringing at the taste.

“You know who would be really great for Ellie? Nick. I think their different personalities would really even each other out.”

“Rule number 12, sweetheart.”

You rolled your eyes at his comment. Since when do any of his subordinates follow it, including himself. You knew all about his past with the director and Sloan, he wasn’t fooling anyone.

“Rule number 83. Don’t be a hypocrite,” you quipped, making up your own rule.

He gave you the look that you see from him to his team all the time but it didn’t work on you so you just smiled cheekily back at him. He stopped sanding and came over, taking the glass from your hands and finishing the awful brown liquor, your arms snaking around his neck. He smelt like a lumbermill mixed with a distillery and you loved it. You loved it even more when you pulled him in for a kiss and tasted the leftover vapors of his whiskey on his tongue. The effect of drinking your 3 glasses of wine had you feeling warm and fuzzy and made Jethro’s touch electric.

When you two pulled away, he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear before speaking. “Let’s go to bed.”

Not needing any convincing, you nodded and he helped you down, taking off his toolbelt and carelessly dropping it on one of the tables before following you back upstairs.

[antiquepearlss]

Southern Headcanons

Old Corona lowkey gives off southern small town vibes so here’s some southern Varian + Quirin headcanons because I’m not projecting at all.

Starting off strong with a classic- Varian loves sweet tea. He makes it homemade and it’s 90% sugar and it’s most of what he drinks. Quirin isn’t a big fan, but he’ll drink it occasionally when Varian makes it. Same with Lemonade; Varian loves it, Quirin is neutral.

If Quirin isn’t working, he’s relaxing in a rocking chair on his front porch.

Varian is the type of person to watch tornadoes instead of seeking shelter. Quirin has to physically pick him up and drag him to the basement.

There’s a creek in Old Corona that the children all frequent. 

Most of Quirin’s diet is biscuits and gravy. It’s the southern old man meal. And southern fried steak. And fried potatoes with gravy. Also coleslaw, and fried green tomatoes, because again, old man.

Varian likes fried chicken and waffles, peach cobbler, pulled pork, chicken and dumplings, and cornbread. He ate coleslaw once and died a little inside.

Neither of them are big fans of catfish or shrimp, they’re just not big on seafood. Ulla was a fan, however.

Neither of them have thick accents, but with certain words it shines through. It also shines through if they talk fast, or for Varian, if he gets really excited. Or it comes out at random moments. Eugene and the girls make fun of him for it, Rapunzel thinks it’s cute, Lance thinks it sounds cool

Quirin has Bible verse decor in his house. He’s not even religious. Those just kind of materialize on your walls the first time you say y’all.

Quirin and Ulla had an apple themed kitchen.

Quirin absolutely has said “bless your heart”

Ulla wore gingham, a lot.

Varian has mason jars. Everywhere. And also reuses those butter containers. He managed to get them to contain acid.

Old Corona has a lot of potholes.

Varian’s favorite place to go as a kid was with his father to Rural King. He loved looking at the machinery and the baby chickens.

Varian knows how to use a riding mower and is quite skilled at it. He tried to teach Eugene (his city kid cousin) and he crashed into a tree.

There is little to nothing to do in Old Corona except for the occasional festival.

Oktoberfest goes hard there.

Quirin isn’t the most social but he does have the southern hospitality down. He’ll invite you in for lemonade or tea. He’ll just, barely talk. (He strikes me as the type to be quiet and awkward in small/intimate settings.) He also brings new neighbors homemade food.

Neither Quirin nor Varian care about sports, but they watch football to feel included. Sometimes they’ll root for opposing teams just for the fun of a playful rivalry with eachother, even though they have no idea what they’re talking about.

Quirin likes old country music. Varian claims to dislike country music, but listens to it sometimes. He never heard the end of it from the girls when they found out he loves Cary Underwood. Ulla had a collection of Dolly Parton vinyl that was passed down to Eugene for….some reason.

Quirin also likes some bluegrass and very much enjoys the blues.

Again, Quirin is not religious, but church on Easter used to be a must. Mostly because it was the only time he and Ulla could get Varian to wear a suit, and he looked adorable in one. (Now all Quirin has to do is ask Rapunzel to make Varian nice clothes and he’ll wear them gladly.)

Ulla planted a lot of magnolias in their garden. And hydrangeas.

Old Corona has a lot of block parties and just, spontaneous potlucks. 

If Varian wasn’t with his parents he was probably with the resident Old Person in Old Corona. He didn’t have many friends growing up, but older people loved him.

Quirin watches Andy Griffith.

Old Corona has one gas station and it has the best slushies. Whenever Rapunzel visits they go there.

Eugene kinda hates Old Corona. He’s a city boy. Rapunzel likes the open-ness.

Old Corona is the prettiest in the Fall.

Varian conveniently spills acid on nearby confederate flags.

[bluemirrorangel]

Dps headcanons the poets and their type of academia aesthetic 

This is wayyyy longer than I intended it to be lol anyway I hope you enjoy these, leave a ship or fandom suggestions and I’ll do headcanons for them if you want :) 

Todd:darkest Academia

Loves gothic fiction and horror stories because he likes being nervous knowing that he's supposed to be.

Likes reading outside at night because it’s quiet 

Surprisingly nosey, not in a bad way he’s just really curious about stuff.

Likes dark/muted colours.

His favourite book is a picture of Dorian grey.

Weirdly into cryptids and other mysteries.

Was TERRIFIED of the Bermuda triangle as a kid.

Loves writing poetry but enjoys writing in general.

Semi popular writer on AO3 for classical literature, started because Keating told him to publicise  some of creative writing.

Runs his good reads account like the navy.

Charlie:chaotic academia

Regularly gets uniform carded for everything; shirt unbuttoned and untucked, tie loosened, he never has his blazer on and his jumper is perpetually tied around his waist. 

Has a mason jar type cup on his nightstand that is always full of a mixture of different energy drinks and fizzy drinks/soda’s, Cameron says it looks like paint water.

Banned from reading out loud in English class pre-Keating because he got a little too into the role of Jack in Lord of the Flies .

Point blank refuses to do P.E and is always ‘losing’ his kit.

Shockingly serious about music class, deeply respects the teacher and never misses a lesson.

Post stick notes EVERYWHERE

Writes his notes in highlighter and felt tips

Went through a phase of bringing a flask to school instead of a water bottle because he thought it looked cool.

Spark notes BIGGEST FAN.

A saxophone prodigy despite being unable to read sheet music.

Neil:light academia

Loves Shakespeare and the theatre in general

Good grades in every class but really shines when it comes to the arts

Eats his lunch in the English classroom with the other poets

Forges his fathers signature for school trips so much half his teachers have no idea what his dads handwriting actually looks like.

Hates biology because he’s scared of blood

Always says that Todd is his favourite author/poet.

Really good memory, able to learn lines at shocking speeds. 

Finds it difficult to multitask; has to have instrumental music playing otherwise he gets distracted.

Prefers plays over books.

Collects playbills.

Meeks:classic academia 

Loves typewriters, inherited one from his grandparents and uses it alllll the time.

has a polaroid camera and uses it to take either the best candid's or the  most diabolical mugs there's no in-between.

Owns a shocking amount of sweater vests.

Has a record collection.

Loves those retro 50’s themed diners/drive-ins, drags Pitts and the poets to those all the time.

Really into history

Owns an analogue radio.

Taught himself Latin one summer to impress Pitts, and is now fluent.

His entire wardrobe is vintage themed.

Favourite book is the Outsiders by S.E Hinton.

Knox:romantic academia

Writes love letters and poetry whenever he has a crush on someone, used to keep them under his bed but swiftly changed that hiding place after watching ‘to all the boys I've loved before.’ with his sister, they now live in a shoebox on his trophy/bookshelf.

Loves the romantics big fan of love poetry as a whole.

Has definitely tried to serenade someone before.

 Self taught guitarist.

Has only ever received on card on Valentines Day, it was from Charlie in year nine it’s one of Knox’s most prized possessions.

Loves Romeo and Juliet.

Thinks ‘say anything’ is the height of romance 

Subconsciously wants to be romanced for once instead of the other way round. 

 Has Pinterest boards dedicated to romantic quotes 

His favourite movie is the princess bride.

pitts:’nerdy’ Academia 

really into the roman empire 

Loves renaissance fairs and goes every year.

REALLY into dungeons and dragons.

Loves going to random museum exhibits.

Spent half his childhood hyper fixated on the Titanic, was super excited to watch the movie and completely heartbroken when he realised it was a fictional story and not a documentary.

Brilliant at chess.

Knows random historical facts.

Horrible at remembering faces but never forgets a name.

Loves mythology of all kinds.

Really good at architecture; his middle school used to have a architecture competition where  you had 2 minutes to make a house out of marshmallows and dry spaghetti the most stable one won, Pitts won every year.

Cameron:dark academia 

Keeps his notes/homework in colour coded folders and files

A proper perfectionist and  chronic overachiever.

Writes in pencil or fountain Pen.

the gifted kid who REFUSED to burn out.

Only gets attention at home when he’s doing well at school, so he throws himself into his studies.

Drinks more coffee than water

Can play the piano, was entered in a school concert and his whole family came. He was terrified of embarrassing or disappointing them so he overdid it and played so hard his fingers bled.

Has a copy of every graded test practice or otherwise in his room so he can go over them before his exams.

Hates English with a passion because it’s the one lesson where there are no rules.

Once spent an entire night going over his English notes before a test and was so overtired he fell asleep during the exam and failed it. None of the poets bring it up not even Charlie because that day was the first time he’d seen Cameron cry.

[leclercsredhelmet]

So American ★ Logan Sargeant

A/N: Hi everyone! So sorry for the writing inactivity but I've been busy with writing and editing some things. Since it's the Fourth of July I decided to write a Logan Sargeant blurb! Hope you all enjoy it!!

"He laughs at all my jokes and says I'm so American"

By now you and Logan would have been coming from the beach, with sandy hair and tanned skin. You’d leave your boards by the door and step inside to help your parents set up the yard for the annual Fourth of July bash. But you’re not in Malibu, you’re currently in your London flat. Fourth of July weekend is also Silverstone weekend which means you miss out on one of your favorite holidays. Quietly you’ve been planning a surprise for Logan in hopes of recreating the holiday you both enjoy so much. Today is media day and since Logan is needed to fulfill his media duties it gives you the perfect chance to decorate the apartment and cook. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to join me, babe?” Logan asks you. “I’m sure Lo, I want to stay and clean the place, it’s a little messy,”  you reply. “You still have time to change, I can wait while you get dressed,” he says. Smiling you walk over to him and touch his cheek, “I’ll be with you the rest of the weekend Lo,” you sweetly say. “Okay fine, I’ll miss you,” Logan says with a pout. You chuckle and hug him, “Me too, Lo. But Coco and Apollo will keep me company,” you reply. 

Logan chuckles and kisses you sweetly. You walk with Logan to the door and open it, he steps out into the hallway and kisses you once more. His hands leave your waist and you ruffle his hair a little making him laugh. “Let me know when you’re at track Sarge, I love you.” “Will do, I love you, Saez,” he replies before turning on his heel and walking down the hallway. 

Once he’s out of sight you close the door and get to work. Music is playing while you work around the apartment and cook the food. Hopefully, Logan is happy when he sees everything and you’re excited for his reaction. Leaving the sauces alone you take out more of the red, white, and blue streamers. Climbing on the ladder you attach the streamers to the kitchen cabinets. 

You’ve decorated the apartment in red white and blue streamers, paper stars hang from the living room ceiling and the kitchen table has a mason jar with small flags and usa-themed decorations.  Wiping sweat from your brow you put the small decorated cake in the fridge and grab a water bottle. Coco and Apollo are lounging on the couch so you join them. “Hi babies,” you say softly and they happily bark and lay on your lap. Apollo starts to excitedly lick your face and you stop him while you laugh. “Apollo calm down, buddy,” you say attempting to calm the young pup down. 

Your childhood dog had passed away a few months ago in March and you were heartbroken when your mom called you. Logan knew how sad you’d been for the last months and while in Florida for the Miami Grand Prix, he’d decided to surprise you, coincidentally one of his friend’s golden retriever had given birth a few weeks prior and he was giving the puppies away so Logan picked one from the litter and surprised you. You decided to name him Apollo because of his color and you also had a habit of naming some of your pets after Greek gods. 

Apollo calmed down and you chuckled, gently you stroked his ears and recalled the first Fourth of July you’d spent with Logan. 

Flashback

Logan had joined you on a trip to California after dating for a year. This trip served as a way for him to meet your parents and they had adored meeting him yesterday. Your parents were thrilled with him and both your worries had been eased, especially Logan’s. Today was the fourth of July and your parents were throwing their annual party. Your parents joked that you and Logan were the guests of honor this year because you missed out on last year’s party due to work. 

Sun beamed down and you felt it beat down on your exposed shoulders. The air smelled of sea salt and the waves crashed behind you. The sand was hot and stuck to your wet feet. Gently you squeezed the excess water from your hair and turned to look at Logan. Flashing a smile you walked over to him and he grabbed your waist pulling you closer. “Hey surfer girl,” he said and you chuckled. “Hi Florida boy,” you replied and he chuckled. His palm was on your cheek and he leaned down to kiss you, you stood on your tiptoes and your eyelids fluttered shut at the feeling of his lips on yours. They tasted like salt water, a taste that certainly mirrored yours. 

Pulling back he looked at you and gently kissed your forehead, “We should head back before my mom leans over the balcony and shouts at me,” you said and he chuckled. Logan’s arm was around your waist and his fingers made contact with your bare skin, making butterflies flutter around in your stomach. “Let’s get going then, c’mon,” he said. Bending down you grabbed your boards and walked towards the house. 

“I’m still not used to that huge house,” you comment and Logan chuckles. “To be fair you haven’t really lived in it,” Logan said and you looked at him, “True, London whisked me away and refused to let me go,” you replied. “Lucky me, I have London to thank for that,” he commented and you both laughed. 

You grew up in Malibu but not on the side where you see those huge houses, you and your parents lived at a small house in Malibu West. Your parents earned more than enough money to afford one of those big beach houses but they decided against that. A year before you went off to college they decided to buy the house you were heading towards. The beachfront house sat a little far back from the others and unlike the rest, it wasn’t a slab of white concrete. Instead it was a Spanish style villa with actual personality unliked those boring houses you often encountered in this area.

“Are you ready to face a full-blown Saez Fourth of July party in approximately six hours?” You asked Logan while leaning on the stairs, “I’m a little terrified but I’m ready,” Logan said putting his hand on your shoulders. “C’mon Sarge, we need to report for duty,” you said and climbed the stairs up to the property. 

Letting out a breath you put your hands on your hips as your chest heaved up and down a bit. Behind you Logan laughed, “How are you not winded?” you asked him and he laughed. “Training babe,” he replied and you scoffed. “Finally, I was just about to lean over and shout like a madwoman,” your mom said. Logan chuckled and you giggled, “There’s no need mamá,” you said. Graceful as ever your mom smiled and wrapped you both in a hug. “How were the waves?” she asked. “Great, the swell was amazing and I lucked out with a tunnel,” you said. “She was amazing at the tunnel,” Logan said and your mom smiled. 

“How about you Logan, did you get lucky with one?” Your mom asked, “Unfortunately not. Dr. Saez,” he said and your mom looked at him. “Logan you don’t have to call me doctor all the time, you’re family,” she said sweetly. “Sorry ma’am, sorry Catalina,” he said after correcting himself and you smiled at his sweet nature. “Are you kids hungry? I can make you something before we start setting up,” your mom said. You shook your heads no and she smiled, “There’s some fruit salad in the fridge in case you feel like having a snack,” she said and you nodded. Turning around she walked away and you dropped the boards on

the grass before heading towards the showers to rinse the sand off. Walking inside you both part ways to get changed. 

Your dad finds you in the kitchen while you are snacking on fruit salad, “Hey kiddo, how was the morning surf session?” he asks while grabbing water from the fridge. “Mega, I missed surfing,” you replied. He chuckles, “I think the waves missed you too,” he replied and you chuckled. Logan made his way to the kitchen and stood next to you, wordlessly you handed him the fork and bowl of fruits. “Logan are you ready for the mayhem?” your dad asked. Your boyfriend chuckled, “Yes, sir’ Logan replied. “You can call me Arturo, you’re family now,” your dad reminded him. 

The three of you were talking until your mom arrived. “Great the decoration committee is here and so is the cooking staff, let’s get to work!” your mom cheerfully said. “Cata, you need to slow down we still have five and a half hours,” your dad said. “Five and a half hours that go by quickly and you forget that we have a good party reputation,” she said and you laughed. In response, your dad playfully rolled his eyes, “You’re always acting like you’re racing against the clock in an OR room.” “And you seem to forget that you fell in love with me in an OR room,” she bit back. You and Logan quietly watched their moment before you whisked him away in search of the decorations. 

After a team effort, the house was decorated and some of the food was set out, you checked the table settings to make sure everything was precisely placed. “There’s a napkin that’s on the wrong side and a streamer is a little too high than the rest,” you stated. Logan chuckled, “You’re just like your mom, I don’t see the difference in the streamers,” Logan said. “Come here, stand next to me,” you said and pulled him to stand next to you. “Now look to the upper left corner, you’ll notice that the streamer hangs higher than the one in the middle,” you said. Logan followed your directions and chuckled when he saw it. 

Grabbing the nearby ladder he climbed it, “All right miss precision provide me with guidance,” he said. You giggled and guided him, Logan fixed the streamer and you folded the napkin correctly and placed it on the right side. 

Logan was sticking to your side as the party was in full swing, everyone was having fun and the Saez Fourth of July bash was proving to be a big hit. “Babe Ithink I survived,” he whispered and you laughed.

“Survive you did, are you having fun?” you asked turning to hold his hands. “Yeah, I’ve lost track of how many people I’ve been introduced to but it’s been a lot of fun,” he replied. “If you keep this up you’ll be an official member of the decoration committee which is understaffed,” you joked. Logan laughed and you both went over to the drinks table in search of some beers. 

Your mother expertly navigated the crowd and engaged in conversation, occasionally whisking you and Logan with her. You’d manage to escape your parents and their doctor friends, what was meant to be a short conversation with a coworker turned into quite a long one once Logan’s upcoming Formula One career and your job had been brought up. You could tell Logan was thrilled to talk about his passion and that made you happy. 

Both of you occupied one of the chaise lounges by the pool. A plate with food was in your hand and Logan also had one. Logan snuck a rib out of your plate and you stared him down. “Logan that’s mine,” you said. Cheekily he took a bite of it and you stared at him as he liked sauce from his fingers. “Not anymore,” he said with a chuckle. “There are ribs on your plate!” you exclaimed quietly and he laughed. “What if I wanted one from your plate?” he countered. “It’s the same rib as the one you have right there!” you replied. “Yours had more sauce, sharing is caring babe,” he said kissing your cheek. “What you did is stealing Lo, I should steal food from your plate,” you said. 

“Here, steal it all like you stole my heart,” he said while giving you the plate. “Logan,” you said softly, “What did I do?” he asked cautiously. “Nothing you’re just so sweet, it’s impossible to be mean to you!” you exclaimed while crossing your arms. Laughing Logan set the plates aside and kissed you. 

The night rolled on and when it was time for fireworks your parents went to get you both. You stood next to your mom while your dad and Logan lit the fireworks. Quickly they rejoined you. Logan stood behind you with his arms draped on your shoulders while you leaned into him, your parents were in a similar embrace and you smiled. “Happy fourth baby, I love you,” he whispered. “I love you too Sarge,” you whispered before turning around and kissing him as fireworks went off in the background. 

End of flashback

Logan had texted to let you know that he was getting home soon. Setting the food out you rearranged anything that was out of place and changed into the outfit you wore two years ago. Slipping on the white dress you tied a red and blue ribbon on your hair. 

Coco and Apollo started to bark when they heard the keys jiggle and you laughed at their excitement. Of course, they beat you to the door and you laughed at how excited they were to see Logan. “I think they missed their dad,” you said and Logan chuckled. “Seems like they did,” he said walking over to you, with a smile he dropped his bag and wrapped his arms around you. “Hey Sarge,” you say and he chuckles at the nickname before you lean in and kiss him hello. “What’s all this?” he asks smiling as he looks around the apartment. “The fourth of July of course,” you say. “I figured that since we’re not home for the celebration I could bring the celebration over here,” you tell him. Logan smiles and picks you up, spinning you around and making you laugh. “So this is why you turned down going with me,” he comments and you nod. 

He sniffs the air and you laugh, “I smell ribs, mac and cheese, and cake!” he exclaims. Throwing your head back you laugh and he sets you down before taking your hand and walking to the kitchen. His eyes land on the dining table and he turns to look at you with a bigger smile. He looks like a child who is seeing a heap of candy and you grin. “Thank you for bringing the fourth across the pond, you’re amazing and so American,” he says. You laugh and hug him. “You’re welcome and you are also so American Florida boy,” you reply. Laughing you sit down to eat and talk about everything you missed out on during media day. 

(All photo credits go to the respective owners)

[cowpokeomens]

Blood Pact

It's me, your favorite monster fucker! Here's another part of my Nocturnal Creatures series, in which you strike a deal with a demon- who goes by Nicholas. Sexy things ensue.

Warnings: Disgusting nasty filthy p-in-v, cunnilingus, lots of mentions of virginity (it's a social construct, but if you got it, flaunt it), Nicholas Ruffilo's monster cock (canon), if you feel I need to add anything PLEASE send me a message! Otherwise, enjoy!

________________________________________________________

You still couldn’t believe you were doing this. 

Yet, here you stood, at a crossroads in your hometown. Not just the metaphorical kind, either- an actual, physical crossroads. Mason Avenue and Fisher Street, to be exact. 

Right next to the city cemetery, from which you stole a jar’s worth of dirt.

It sat in your bag, next to some kind of flowering plant you hoped would work, a cat bone (thank goodness for veterinarian friends?), and a picture of yourself, one of the headshots your manager had insisted would help you blow up on TikTok. 

It hadn’t.

You threw everything into a cardboard box, using your shiny, new shovel from the local feed supply store to dig a hole in the center of the dusty dirty roads. The ground was harder than you expected, so your two-foot deep hole had you sweating by the time it was formed. You all but threw the box into the hole, quickly covering it up with loose dirt, and taking a few steps back. Pulling out your phone, you consulted the symbol you saved from a website earlier that week, spray paint in hand. All the stupid Wal-Mart had left was “Cerise Fluorescent,” so you hoped whatever you summoned liked pink. 

Carefully, you sprayed the lines onto the dirt, over where you buried your box. You tried to move quickly, but precisely; Getting caught was almost as terrifying as doing it wrong.

Finally, it was done. You scrolled over on your phone, to the Latin text you hadn’t even dared to read in your head. Stepping away from the circle, you read it aloud now. You could feel your heart about to beat out of your chest, and you wondered one last time if this was worth it. 

“Your Latin sucks.” A voice said suddenly.

You jumped, yelping, and fell directly on your ass.

You were scrambling back when the voice spoke again. 

“Is this a Goetia sigil? In pink? The guys are going to get a kick out of this-”

You stood up shakily, dusting off your pants in the process. You finally saw the source of the voice: Standing in the center of your sigil was the most devastatingly handsome man you had ever seen. 

Long, dark hair; his skin was lightly tanned and healthy-looking. Eyes the color of clouds, that seemed to shift from green to blue to grey before you. He was taller than you, tattoos visible on both hands, and dressed simply: A hoodie, dark jeans, and…

Were those Converse?

You were immediately overcome with confusion. “Um, who are you?”

He fixed those eyes directly on you. “I think that’s my line, doll.”

Your eyebrows shot up into your hairline. “You’re Amdusias?”

He winced. “Yikes, with the Scary-Latin-Demon-Name. You can call me Nicholas.”

You frowned. “You don’t seem like…”

“Like a great duke of Hell?” He finished your thought. “Yeah, only angels really like to make a dramatic entrance, that’s why they’ve been banned to stay behind the pearly bars. Too many eyes, too much fire-”

“You’re wearing sneakers?” You said without thought.

He looked offended. “Did you expect me to crawl out of Hell in loafers?”

You scrambled for an answer. “Well, no, but I-”

“TV is rotting your mind. What do you want?” He cut you off.

You felt the color leaving your face. “Well, um, I read that you were responsible for the music in Hell-”

“‘Music’ is a big word, but sure.” He interrupted.

Giving him a look, you continued. “Well, I’m a musician, too! Only…” You trailed off with a frown.

He mocked you with a faux-wince. “Ooh, not triple platinum yet, huh?”

You couldn’t even bring yourself to hide your disappointment. Shaking your head, your gaze met his again. “That’s where you come in.”

An eyebrow cocked at you. “Think that because you snagged a demon, you get to be famous?”

You shook your head hastily. “No, not at all! I did a lot of research-” You Googled for 30 minutes- “So I don’t get to demand things without a trade, right?” 

He smiled at you lazily. “Yep. So what will it be, your soul? First born? I love a first born, with a little bit of butter, some rosemary and-”

“I’m a virgin.” You blurted. 

He froze, then his entire demeanor changed. For the first time that night, you felt genuine fear as the air around you went still. “Oh yeah?”

Your mouth gaped like a fish, so you settled on a nod.

He took a tiny step towards you. You were rooted on the spot, frozen like a deer in headlights. This was a bad idea. 

Finally, you found your words. “My virginity. For- whatever it is you do. Fame, fortune, I don’t really care, I just want people to hear my music, connect with it-”

“Yeah, yeah, real noble of you.” He snorted, then composed himself. For a second, he almost looked concerned. “You sure about this, doll?”

You nodded, trying to look confident. “Yeah. But- make it organic, y’know, the fame part. I don’t want to look like an industry plant-”

He rolled his eyes, walking closer so that he was directly in front of you. You gaped at his proximity. “You can leave the circle?”

Laughing, he nodded. “I could have left at any point, but you’re pretty-” He leaned in so that he was whispering in your ear, “-For a pathetic little human.”

Your cheeks went hot. You knew it was just to rile you up, make this worse than it already was. At least, you figured, your virginity meant something to someone- it certainly held no value for you. A demon was less than desirable, but he was nice to look at- 

Woah. Not going there, you told yourself sternly. 

Shaking off the feeling, you held out your hand. “Okay, so deal-”

“Uh, no.” He cut you off, again. “I have my own terms and conditions.”

You blinked. “Huh?”

A smirk grew on his face. “My terms. For our arrangement.”

You tried not to let anger well up inside you. “And what would those terms be?” You asked through gritted teeth. 

“You come to me.” He said plainly. Confusion must have been evident on your face, because he continued, “I’m not some monster in the night who’s going to show up for your virginity. When the time is right, you’ll come to me.”

“You’re not going to just… Take it?” The question slowly left your mouth.

He grimaced, an ugly look for such a pretty face. “Ew, no. I’m a demon, not a wild animal. Besides,” he cocked his head to the side, looking directly into you. “Virginity tastes better when it comes willingly.” 

Gulping despite yourself, you managed a nod. “Okay. Fine. I’ll come willingly.” As if. 

Holding out an inked hand, he grinned at you. “Then it’s a deal.”

Taking a deep breath, you took his hand in yours, shaking once. “Deal.”

_________________________________________________________

Six Months Later 

You awoke in a cold sweat, the third time that week. Flicking the bedside lamp on, you walked over to the mini-fridge of your hotel room, grabbing a bottle of water. You were uncomfortably wet- again, and not from sweating. It seemed like every time you tried to rest, you were met by stormy eyes where sleep should have greeted you. You chugged the water, making your way to the restroom for a much-needed shower. 

That night’s show had been sold out- the 13th sold out show of your highly anticipated debut tour. Nicholas had held up his end of the bargain; Your album was projected to sell close to a million units by the end of the year. And you had seen neither hide nor hair of him. 

Well. Not in the flesh, anyways.

As you started the shower, your mind wandered. You knew it was him, sending you these dreams through his weird demon dream channels or whatever. Even as your body betrayed you, you knew it was not your own thoughts causing such a commotion. 

Still, as you slipped in the shower to wash off the day’s grime, you felt your hand slip lower, between your folds to collect the wetness there. A soft gasp escaped your lips as you circled your bundle of nerves, moaning quietly. Despite your best efforts, your thoughts drifted back to long, dark hair and tattooed hands on your body. Your hand moved quicker, moans growing louder as you felt yourself getting closer to climax. You were on the precipice when a familiar voice made you freeze.

“I knew you’d be loud.” 

Yelping, you jumped nearly a foot in the air, almost falling in your panic. Yanking your towel off the rack, you wrapped yourself as quickly as possible as you threw open the shower curtain. 

Nicholas was sitting criss-cross on the expansive bathroom counter, picking at something under his nails. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” You snapped.

“You summoned me, duh.” He said, rolling his eyes at you. 

“Yeah, six months ago. I thought I was supposed to come to you.”

He looked at you then, eyes dragging over your poorly-concealed form. His eyes glinted, looking hungry. “Moaning the name of a demon you promised your virginity to while you rub one out in the shower is a summoning if I’ve ever seen one. Besides,” He looked into your eyes, smirking devilishly. “You were about to come to me, from the sound of it.”

Your face was on fire with embarrassment. “I was not moaning your name.”

He cocked a brow at you. “Uh, you were. Loudly.” 

Rage bubbled up inside you. “I was not!” The words spilled from you now. “I wouldn’t have even been doing that if you hadn’t been sending me all of your weird demonic sex dreams constantly!”

An unnamed emotion flashed across his face, then he grinned. “‘Weird demonic sex dreams,’ huh?”

You huffed at him “Oh, don’t even play coy. Like being dragged back to Hell and tied up by some hot shot demon was my big idea.”

The smile he was giving you was sinister. “Right, right. What else have I sent your way?”

You faltered, unsure of what he was playing at. “Like you don’t know.” 

He shrugged. “I don’t. I haven’t ‘sent you’ shit.” He mimed quotations with his hands. 

Your blood went cold. Suddenly, the bathroom was too small. “You’re lying.” Your voice sounded feeble, even to you.

He shook his head, standing up. Slowly he stepped towards you. “I’m not.”

“But then- that would mean-” Stammering, you stood there helplessly as he crept closer. 

Nodding, he leaned in even closer. “That was all you, doll.” He brushed a stray lock of hair off your shoulder. “What a dirty mind the little human virgin has. You mentioned being tied up- what else did I do to defile you, huh?” 

He was too close, it almost made you dizzy. He smelled like smoke and rain and earth all at once. “Shut up.” You mumbled weakly.

He stepped back, finally. “Well, you know how to find me.” 

There was a crack like lightning, then he was gone. 

You stood there for a few minutes, trying to regain your composure. This was fine, you reasoned. He left. He kept his word. Everything was fine. 

______________________________________________________

Three Months Later

Once again, you couldn’t believe you were doing this. 

Sitting on the edge of the bed in your master bedroom, you gazed out the windows overlooking the city below. You remembered when you first bought the condo- loved how open and light it was. In the deepness of the night surrounding you, the lights looked like tiny fires dancing in the dark. 

Taking a deep breath, you laid down on your pillows, trying to relax your body. Running a hand over the t-shirt on your abdomen, up to your breasts, you felt your breathing start to slow. Your nipples were quick to perk up at the stimulation, so you pinched one experimentally, almost moaning out at the sensation.

Your nerves were on fire these days. The slightest brush against your skin made you feverish. You tried everything, from quitting cold turkey to bringing yourself to climax three or four times a day. Nothing was working. 

So maybe this would. 

You snaked your hand lower, falling into familiar routine. You had come to know your body well the last three months, knew exactly where to rub, where to pinch. As you toyed with your folds through your underwear, you imagined a different set of hands, larger and covered in ink. Unlike the other times, you allowed your fantasy to overtake you, gave yourself to it willingly. 

“Nicholas.” You breathed, back arching ever so slightly.

There was a slight breeze, then a quiet gasp. 

“Quite the show you’re putting on, doll. I suppose you didn’t say my name this time, either?” 

You pulled your hand away from your core, scrambling to stand up. “No, I- I did.”

Nicholas’ face looked shocked for a millisecond, then an eyebrow was raised at you. “Oh?”

“I’m… I’m ready.” It didn’t sound convincing. 

He scoffed. “Yeah, no thanks. Like I said, I’m not interested in forcing anyone-”

“Goddamnit, shut up.” You snapped. “I said I’m ready, okay? You said to come to you, so here I am. Unless you never planned on following through with it.” It was dangerous to goad him, but you couldn’t stop yourself.

His eyes were pitch black in an instant, staring you down. “Don’t joke about a demon’s word, doll. You’re not ready for that fight.”

Your hands shook, but you felt-

Mortification overcame you as you realized just what you felt. 

Those dark eyes narrowed in on the single bead of slick that was rolling steadily down your leg. Cloud-grey eyes returned as realization dawned on him.

“You want me to debase you.” He took a step towards you as his words filled the room. “You want me to tie you up and have my way with you. Isn’t that right?”

You couldn’t bring yourself to admit the truth, but it was evident. 

He inhaled deeply, taking another step towards you. His eyes fluttered shut as he exhaled slowly. “You smell ripe. You want this so badly, poor thing- you just can’t admit it to yourself.”

You pressed your legs together, trying to maintain some kind of decency.

He was in front of you now, close enough to touch if you were braver. “Beg for it. Beg, and I’ll give you anything you want, doll.”

Chest heaving with labored breaths, you gave in. “Please.” You whispered.

His hand- the hands you had been dreaming about for nine months- came up to grip your jaw. “I said beg.”

You crumbled. “Please, Nicholas, please, I’ll be so good-”

His grin was minatory as he brought his lips down to yours. 

Your relief was immediate as you sagged into him, one of his arms wrapping around your waist to support you. He walked you backwards toward the bed, still kissing you furiously. 

“How wet are you already, doll? I bet your little cunt is just soaked.” Breaking the kiss, he picked you up and set you on the bed, lowering himself onto his knees in front of you. “Tell me what you want.”

You panted, unable to form a sentence for a moment. “I don’t- I don’t know.”

He made a tsk-tsk sound with his tongue against his teeth. “Right, you’re just a helpless little virgin who hasn’t spent the last 9 months having vivid dreams about me fucking her.” He looked up at you through his lashes. “Tell me what you dreamed about.”

“Your hands.” You heard yourself say immediately. 

He smirked again. “Oh yeah? What were my hands doing?”

You knew your face was crimson. “They… They were touching me.”

“Where?” The look he was giving you was too intense for you to maintain more than a few seconds.

“Um-” You hesitated. 

“You can say it.” He urged, leaning in.

“My… my pussy.” You finished, staring at the ground.

“Do you want me to play with your pussy now?” He was still staring at you.

“Please.” You breathed, anticipation making your entire body tense. 

“Good girl, so polite.” As you shivered at the praise, his eyes made their way down your body, to where your core was at eye-level for him. “If you want to stop, say so, is that clear?”

You nodded. “Yes, sir.” 

Something dark flashed in his face, then he said, “Good girl.” 

His hand came up to run a single digit along your slit, through your underwear. You shook involuntarily at the contact. 

“Oh doll, you’re starved, aren’t you?” He murmured, almost to himself. “Let’s get these ruined panties off of you.” 

You went to shift your weight so that you could shimmy the garment off, only to freeze as Nicholas tore through it like a piece of paper. 

He didn’t even look apologetic. “Hope you didn’t like those too much.”

You didn’t have time to consider it as you realized your cunt was fully visible to him now, slick with your own juices. 

He sighed as he stared at your core. “Women are the best thing that bastard ever accomplished.” Then he looked up at you. “I’m gonna use my mouth, that okay, doll?”

“Yes, sir.” Your voice was hoarse from disuse. You felt like you were vibrating in your skin. 

He leaned in slowly, as if to not startle you, before running his tongue from your hole to your clit.

The moan you let out was guttural and animalistic. 

“There it is.” He said quietly, before diving back into you. 

Your head fell back onto the mattress as he lapped at your clit, tongue occasionally diving into your hole. Tears welled up in your eyes at the relief it brought, like jumping into a pool on a hot summer day. Your hands tangled in his long tresses, and he moaned against your pussy. Your hips were bucking into him involuntarily, your orgasm so close you could practically taste it. “Nicholas, I’m gonna- I’m so close-” You practically sobbed. 

“Shh, I know, doll. Let it happen.” He said soothingly before going back to his ministrations. You came with a primal moan, back arching off of your sheets. 

 You were still panting when he stood up, surveying you. “All better?”

“Fuck me.” You demanded. 

His expression went stoney. He leaned over until you were caged in by his arms on either side of you. “I don’t fuck demanding brats.”

You lost all your bravado. “Please?”

He sighed softly, but not sincerely. “How bad do you want it?”

You could have cried. “Please, I’m sorry Nicholas, I’ll be good, please fuck me- you don’t know how bad I need it-”

“I just had your greedy little unused hole grinding against my tonsils.” He sneered. “I know exactly how bad you need it.”

Your face went hot at the profane nature of his words- but he was right. He saw firsthand how bad you needed this. “Please.” Was all you said. 

“Well, I guess since you’re asking so nicely.” He mocked as he stepped back, unbuckling his pants as he went. He slid off the trousers, his erection visible through his briefs. You suddenly felt nervous, looking at the size of him. 

He stopped, seeing your expression. “What’s wrong?”

You shook your head. “Nothing’s wrong. It’s just- is it gonna fit?”

He pulled the briefs down at last, finally freeing his cock. It was big- even by supernatural proportions. The tip was an angry shade of red, veins pulsating on the shaft. He huffed a laugh at your face, pulling his shirt off, too. “I bet we can find room.”

Your eyes devoured the tattoos that covered him, tracing the planes of his body as you went. You almost didn’t notice him slinking over to you, crawling onto the mattress in one, fluid motion, landing on top of you. 

“I’m gonna touch you again, okay?” He looked at you expectantly. 

You nodded. “Okay.”

He leaned down to kiss you again, tongue sliding against yours. You whimpered when his fingers were back on your pussy, running along the folds. As you adjusted to his touch, two fingers slipped inside your hole.

“Fuck you’re still so wet,” He muttered, rocking his fingers back and forth inside you. You gasped at the sensation, his fingers so much larger than your own. Moving his mouth down to your neck, he began scissoring his fingers, stretching you out- a preparation you were thankful for.

You felt your second orgasm approaching as he continued his movements, moans growing higher pitched. “Nicholas, I-”

“Think you can hold on?” He asked. It was a genuine question, you knew whatever answer you gave would be correct. 

You considered it for a second. “Yeah, I can- I can wait.” Your legs were still beginning to tremble, though. 

He placed a kiss on your temple, pulling his fingers out. “I’ll go slow, but we can stop if you want to.”

You nodded an affirmative. He stared at you blankly, and you remembered yourself. “Yes, sir.” He tapped your nose, a gesture that was oddly sweet, as he said “Good girl.”

You felt him line up with your entrance, the tip slowly sliding in. It was still a stretch- but you found that you liked it, liked the feeling of being filled up. He went slowly, thrusting shallowly, each time going a little deeper. You could hear the noises you were making, but couldn’t stop yourself from making them. He paused three-fourths of the way in. 

“Doing okay?”

“Yes Nicholas, please don’t stop.” Came your gargled reply.

He smirked, thrusting a few more times until he was fully sheathed in you.

Your back arched clear off the bed as he bottomed out, his tip nestled against something inside you that made you feel feral.

“Like that, doll?” You could hear how smug he was.

“Please, Nicholas, please-” You whined.

“I know, pretty, I’ll give you what you need.” His hands tightened their grip on your waist as he pulled out and slid back in quickly. You let out another carnal wail, your hands coming around to grab at his shoulders. He pulled out again, slamming into you, continuing on until you felt like a puddle on the bed.

“So wet and tight for me, such a good girl.” He grunted as he fucked into you. You nodded pitifully, not sure why, lost in the pleasure. Over and over again he slid against that sweet spot inside you, making you feel like you were on fire. Your orgasm soon approached you like a freight train.

“Nicholas please, I need- I need to come-” You stammered, close to sobbing. 

“I know, it’s so much, I know, you can come, doll.” His words opened a dam as your orgasm overcame you in a powerful wave, making you all but scream as he fucked you through it.

He pulled out shortly after, jerking himself to completion on your stomach. You were gasping for air, legs quivering with the aftershocks of your orgasm as hot ropes of come covered you. 

You felt disgusting, in the most delicious way possible. 

Nicholas disappeared around the corner, returning with a rag to clean you up. He had used hot water, you noted, so it was warm to the touch. 

“So that’s a deal?” You asked when he had finished cleaning you. 

He looked sad, but the expression was quickly gone. “I suppose it is.”

He set the rag on your bedside table, already going to collect his clothing.

“I have a question, before you disappear again.” You called over his shoulder.

“And what is your question?” He turned around to face you as he pulled on his briefs.

“If I wanted a Grammy,” You began, cocking your head to the side. “What would your rates be for that?”

He gave you a grin, understanding your implication immediately as he dropped his pants back onto the floor.

“I’d be open to negotiation of terms.” He murmured as he made his way back over to the bed, lips slotting against yours once more.

[quinloki]

My apolocheese in advance for this, but all 50??? 😀 (Excluding any you may have answered already and/or don't feel up to answer)

Feel free to discard this ask entirely, or answer it in portions whenever you have energy. Whatever works for you. ^^ Just don't overwork yourself (ironic ik, coming from the guy who's asking for all 50, but I can't help it <3)

You know what - sure. XD

I'm going to put this below a cut though, cause whew!

who is/are your comfort character(s)? Marco definitely, but I find comfort in a lot of characters, so I should include Kid, Sabo, Crocodile, Doflamingo, Thatch, Penguin and Law in there too.

lighter or matches? Man I love a good zippo, but nothing beats the smell of a match, so I'll have to go with matches

do you leave the window open at night? Not unless I absolutely have to.

which cryptyd being do you believe in? Are ghosts as a general classification close enough? I've seen like three, but I haven't seen any other cryptids.

what color are your eyes? Brown ^_^

why did you do that? Sometimes I do not even know. I let go of a pot the other day for no good damned reason and was just glad it was empty.

hair-ties or scrunchies? Hair-ties. There's no scrunchie in this 'Verse that can contain my hair.

how many water bottles are in your room right now? In my room like my bedroom? Or as in the room I'm in right now? In either case it's zero. I have this spiffy mason jar monstrosity for water and it's down in the kitchen atm.

which do you prefer, hot coffee or cold coffee? Caffeine, honestly, is what I prefer XD Coffee's crap unless I make it myself so I don't even really register the flavor of it most of time.

would you slaughter the rich? Hm... ... no. I can't say I'd protect or defend them, but my sinful ass isn't going to go around casting judgements on others, no matter if I think they deserve it or not.

favorite extracurricular activity? >.> <.< I mean... I can't really say anything other than sex at this point.

what kind of day is it? A middling Sunday. The sun is pleasant, my cats are napping and look egregiously adorable, but there's still the weight of unemployment on the house, so it's middling.

when was the last time you ate? About 5 minutes or so ago. Rice and veggies.

do you love the smell of earth after it rains? Most certainly ^_^

are you a parent? (all answers qualify) lol not even a little.

can you drive? Better than most. My grandfather taught me with a bag of apples, but I don't really enjoy driving so I don't do it much.

are you farsighted or nearsighted? Whichever it is that needs glasses to see.

what hair products do you use? Cheap ones >.>

imagine we’re at a sleepover, would you paint my nails? If you wanted, certainly, but I have bit my nails since I was 8 so my skill at nail painting does not exist ^_^;

do you say soda or pop? Previously answered, but the short answer is soda.

something you’ve kept since childhood? My friend John. We became friends when we were 5 and 6 and I still play D&D with him on the weekends.

what type of person are you? A lucky one.

how do you feel about chilly weather? Previously answered, but I love winter and autumn

if we were together on a rooftop, what would we be doing? Probably stargazing. Which I stand by because you're not getting me on a roof when the sun's up.

perfume/body spray or lotion? I... uh... none?

a scenario that you’ve replayed multiple times? Like, in my mind? Ah, I licked a guy's nipples for so long he asked me if I was enjoying myself, and instead of saying yes like a boss, I got flustered and it killed the mood. Alas.

about how many hours of sleep did you get? ... 6? I think.

do you wear a mask? When I leave the house, yeah.

how do you like your shower water? Flesh-meltingly hot.

is there dishes in your room? Yes, but only because I just finished eating veggies and rice before I started answering this.

what type of music keeps you grounded? Previously answered, but I really do listen to all of it.

do you have a favorite towel? Nah. I have a favorite spatula though.

the last adventure you’ve been on? My spouse and I went on a 14 day road trip before the pandemic hit and I think between the states and Canada we traveled something like 5,490 miles or so.

is there a song you know every word to by heart? Don't Let It Bring You Down by Annie Lennox

what’s your timezone? East Coast

how many times have you changed your url? 0 - and I don't foresee it happening either.

someone in your life, other than a relative, you’ve known for 10+ years? My aforementioned bestie, but also my lil' "brother" who is not really technically my brother, but who has known me since he was 14 and I was 17, and my D&D group has been together for over 10 years now, so that's like 11 or so more people.

a soap bar that smells good? I use cheap liquid soap, sorry ^^;

do you use lip balm? Nope.

did you have any snacks today? Yes, a pear.

how do you take your coffee? Any way I can get it. Black is preferred though.

an app you frequently use besides this godforsaken site? Discord, maybe I imagine.

what’s your take on spicy foods? I am weak, my family is weak, my ancestors were weak, but I will sniffle and cry and sob the entire time because it's fucking delicious

you get a free pass to kill anyone, who is it? Sadly, they suffer more alive than dead, so >.>

can you remember what happened yesterday? Well enough I'm not worried about early on set dementia.

favorite holiday film? I was gonna say Die Hard, but then it made me think of The Last Unicorn and so I'mma go with that.

what was the last message you sent? Cheering on family who did early voting.

when did you first try an alcohol beverage? Supervised - 12 Because no one was there to stop me, 15.

can you skip rocks? I can trip over rocks, but that's about as skillful as I get. ^_^

can i tag you in random stuff? Certainly - I cannot promise I'll always know how to reply, but I actually really appreciate being tagged because I miss stuff easily.

[death-paint]

Spellbound

Leon Kennedy x Fem! Witch! Reader

Word Count: 2224

Warnings: sickeningly sweet fluff

Finally finished it! This fic has been in the works for months. Mainly because of writer's block and general executive dysfunction. It's definitely happier than my last fic, but I do also have another angst fic coming. This is my second time ever posting a fic on Tumblr, so please be gentle with any critique ;w; I hope you all enjoy!! Fic under the cut!!

Although this particular piece isn't NFSW, minors DO NOT INTERACT with my content.

dividers by @cafekitsune

You danced around the apartment you shared with your boyfriend, waving around a little stick of incense as the smoke wafted into the room. He scrunched up his nose at the smell, but stared at you affectionately from the doorway. The music you had playing only enhanced the mood as you finally set the incense in the holder before walking into the kitchen and setting it on the windowsill. You were in a good mood today, wiggling your hips as you washed the dishes, getting ready to cook dinner for the two of you.

Leon walked up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck and inhaling the scent of your shampoo. You swayed a little more dramatically as you felt his touch, humming along to the song that carried through the house as you spun around.

"Hey, baby," he said softly, "What's got you feelin' so good this afternoon?"

"Getting some new supplies in the mail," you reply. "Bought some stuff online from a small business that I've been waiting on for a while."

"What kind of supplies?" Leon asked, confused.

"You'll see." You giggled at his cluelessness. "I'll teach you everything you need to know once it's here."

"Aw, come on, babe you're killin' me," he groaned. "Just tell me."

"Nope." You stand firm as you finish washing the dishes from earlier that day, taking one of the pots and putting it on the stove for pasta. "You'll have to wait, baby."

He finally let it go and sat down at the dining table, watching as you worked your magic. You bent down into a lower cabinet, pulling out a mason jar full of water with writing scribbled on the lid, and poured it into the pot. Leon raised an eyebrow. Why would you need to jar water? Why was it labeled? Did it have something in it? How did he not see it in the cabinet before?

“Hey…What’s up with the jar?” He asked, curiosity ever-so-present in his voice.

“Oh, this?” You held up the now empty jar. “It’s a little bit of moon water I made last full moon.”

He let your explanation sit with him for a beat, but he was still confused.

“I-…Moon water?” You let out another giggle.

“Yeah, baby. Moon water. You put water in a clear container and let it sit outside at night during whatever moon phase you wanna make it in.”

He chuckled, shaking his head as you provided more information.

“And what’s that supposed to do?” He pressed further.

“Depends on the phase.” You answered nonchalantly, turning back around to salt the water in the pot before adding in the spaghetti noodles. Leon scoffed, giving a smirk and shaking his head even when you couldn’t see him. But you could hear it in his voice.

“I call bullshit.” He started. “You really expect me to believe that you think moonlight has some magical powers? Come on, babe.”

“I know it doesn’t…not in the way you’re thinking, at least,” you replied, now sounding almost sad. “I know, it sounds crazy, doesn’t it?”

Leon immediately backtracked, taking note of how belittled you appeared to feel.

“Wait- no, I’m sorry, I…” He sighed, trying to find the words. “It’s just…an unfamiliar idea to me is all. I don’t mean to make you feel bad about it, hon.”

“Well…if you do it again I’m not gonna teach you,” you huffed, pulling cheese and a carton of heavy cream out of the fridge. You grabbed another pot, thought for a moment, and then put it back, deciding against making more dishes for yourself to clean. You turned to the windowsill, where the now spent incense lay in a pile of ash on its holder, next to the herbs you had in little flowerpots.

You plucked a few leaves of each. All for taste, as well as practising your craft. Rosemary, thyme and basil for love, oregano to strengthen the bond with your partner, garlic and parsley for protection, a little bit of onion powder for good health, salt and pepper to purify your energy, and a sprinkle of (common) sage to dispel negativity. You laid everything out on the nearby cutting board, wiping your hands and turning to the pot of noodles. The strainer was already in the sink, and you grabbed a measuring cup to fill it with some of the starchy water before dumping the rest down the drain, the noodles caught in the metal colander.

That same pot was used just moments later. You threw it back on the burner, quickly turning down the heat and throwing in just enough pasta water to cover the bottom. You were just about to pick up the block of cheese to grate it when Leon stood up from his chair, taking it from you and giving you a kiss on the cheek before grating it himself.

“Can’t have you doing everything by yourself, love.” It was your turn to scoff now.

“That was literally the only thing I had left,” you told him, eyebrows raised as you crossed your arms.

He shrugged.

“Just thought I should take care of the rest.”

“You’re an ass,” you playfully smacked his shoulder.

“You know you love me.” He looked up briefly from his task, grinning.

Soon enough, dinner was finished and the two of you curled up on the couch with full bellies, deciding to leave the dishes to be dealt with in the morning. The two of you took turns flicking through your usual channels, but nothing good was on tonight. You even flicked through some streaming networks, but to your dismay, still couldn’t find anything you hadn’t already finished or were even interested in starting.

“Hey…How about I give you a reading?” You asked, clasping your hands together and raising them to your mouth as you smiled, waiting for his response.

“First moon water, now the…card…thing?” He answered your question with another before giving a sigh. “Sure, why not.”

As soon as he gave his seemingly reluctant approval, you hopped up off the couch and quickly walked to the altar in the corner of the room. You’d done most of the decorating, seeing as Leon rarely had time (even when he was home) to worry about the aesthetics of his living space. He’d wondered what was up with all of the suns, moons and stars, the occasional seashell here and there, and just chalked it up to you having an eccentric taste– which, to be honest, wasn’t that far off. The wall above the altar was full of dried flowers, some from bouquets that Leon bought you, others foraged. If he was being honest, at first he thought they looked kind of creepy, but over time he learned to like it. He thought it was cute that you kept the flowers he bought you, figuring you putting them on display was your way of showing appreciation for his affection. Small animal bones and crystals were arranged carefully on the altar, along with candles of varying sizes and colors– some burned down a bit more than others– and little trinkets he’d brought home from missions as well.

Leon watched as you opened the drawer and pulled out a deck of tarot cards, taking in your excitement. He loved making you happy, even if it meant doing something he was a little skeptical about. He couldn’t help but crack a smile as he saw your own, affection filling his gaze as you plopped back down on the couch.

You pulled out the deck of cards and a notepad from its box, set the notebook down, and began to shuffle.

“Wait…Tarot readings tell you your past, present, and future, right?” Leon asked, bows furrowing quizzically.

“Not necessarily,” you explained. “Most readings will give you advice about a current situation. It might tell you what will happen if you don’t take that advice, though,”

“So…you’re giving me life advice…with cards?” He shot out another question. “Am I getting that right?”

“Well…yeah, pretty much.” You shrugged. “There’s different kind of readings, too. Financial readings, love readings, career readings…”

“Let’s just start with a general one, yeah?” Leon suggested, a bit nervous about being able to retain all that information.

“Alright…I’ll shuffle, you tell me when to stop, and I’ll pull a card. We’ll do that for a basic three card spread.” You picked up the pace, shuffling only a few cards around when Leon told you to pull the first card. You pulled it away from the deck and placed it on the coffee table in front of you. You shuffled again, a bit longer this time, rinse and repeat.

One by one, you turn the cards over. 

“Wait, this one’s upside down…” Leon reached over to turn the card around, but you gently pushed his hand away.

“It’s supposed to be, babe. It has a meaning that way, too.” You turned the rest of the cards over. “King of Swords in reverse…Three of Cups…and Strength.”

“King of swords, and strength, huh? I must be a pretty macho man.” He chuckled.

“Well…The King of Swords in reverse can mean that you’re…impulsive or manipulative, kind of just…irrational,” you corrected him, treading lightly on your words and trying not to upset him.

“Irrational? Manipulative? When have I ever been manipulative?” his tone was defensive.

“Shush, don’t take it so personally, babe. They’re just cards.”

“Okay…what about the other two?” Leon huffed.

“Three of Cups represents happiness or overcoming some kind of hardship,” you turn to him, awaiting another response.

“Definitely have had a few of those,” he chuckled, calming down. “Alright, and the last one?”

“Strength represents…well, strength of course, and that you’re compassionate, patient, and that you can keep a cool head under pressure. Well, most of the time, seeing as you have the King of Swords in reverse as well.”

“Huh…well I guess that’s pretty accurate,” he said with a click of his tongue. “Can…I do one for you?”

“Of course!” You answered. “I can teach you how to read them, it’ll be fun!”

“Sure, okay. What’s next, you teach me spells?” He asked jokingly.

“I can!” Leon laughed briefly at your answer, before realizing you were serious.

You pulled up a website with a list of the meanings for the cards, and shoved the three cards from the previous reading back into the deck. You then handed the deck to Leon, having seen him shuffle cards before and knowing he was fairly good at it. He made a show of it, knowing you liked to watch as his skilled fingers cut the deck and shuffled effortlessly.

“How you want me to deal ‘em, pretty girl?” He smirked, finishing up when the first card fell out of the deck.

“You can do it however you feel is best, Leon,” you said. Leon nodded, opting to just pull the next two cards from the top. “I was thinking of asking about how things would work out between us, though.”

“Do you really need cards to tell you that?” Leon asked. “I’m sure we’ll be fine. Let’s see…”

He flipped the first card over.

“The moon…What’s the moon gotta do with us?”

“Ooh…The Moon…” you repeat, your tone seeming to imply to him that the meaning was a bad one. “Complicated romance, uncertainty about love.”

Leon’s face dropped before he frantically turned over the next two cards,

“High priestess and queen of wands…”

“Keep patient, calm exterior with inner passion, intimacy…And for the Queen of Wands…an independent, cheerful and confident lover and… openness in the relationship.”

“And…What would that mean altogether?” Leon tilted is head with curiosity, his pretty blue eyes full of worry.

“Well, to me, it means that what we have is a bit hard to figure out at first, but if we stay patient with each other and communicate calmly, we’ll be okay.” You tilt your head back at him mockingly before continuing. “What’s the matter, mister? I thought you didn’t believe in this kind of stuff?”

“Pssh, I don’t” Leon scoffs. “Just…wanted to quiz you.”

“Mhm…sure, let’s go with that, love.” You shove the cards back into the deck and give him a kiss on the cheek before standing up to put the cards back on your altar. Leon goes through the collection of dvds on the shelf underneath the tv, and eventually pulls out something that looks like a shitty romcom. You raise an eyebrow at him.

“What? Don’t like it?” he asks.

“Never been a romcom kinda gal, you know that, Lee.” You reply.

“Fine, what do you wanna watch, then?”

“Let’s just play a game together or something.”

“Alright, but I’ll just watch you.”

Soon enough, after a couple hours of trying to figure out a puzzle, you finally got tired (and frustrated) enough to go to bed. You took a quick shower, changed into some pajamas, and climbed into bed next to Leon. He pulled you closer, noses brushing together as you tangled your legs with his own.

“I love you,” Leon whispered.

“Even if you think my witchy stuff is silly?” you asked, giving him puppy dog eyes.

“Of course, baby.” Leon kissed your forehead as the two of you closed your eyes and finally drifted off to sleep.

“I love you too Leon. So much."

[letsgetrowdy43]

Downtime—

Request: Can we get a Adam, Sunny and Luke bonding moment

Au Masterlist!!

Sundays were Sunny’s down days.

She’d started the tradition when she lived at home with all of her brothers, the hectic life that was the Hughes hockey schedule and her own dance agenda had every second of her day taken up. So Sundays became her day of rest, whether the boys were playing or not, the youngest Hughes would opt out of supporting them for just one day to focus on herself.

The boys quickly learned not to get in between her and her downtime. So it was a shock when Luke barged through her dorm door on a Sunday morning, her frown grew as she took the steeped tea bag out of her mug and added some milk.

“It’s Sunday,” he grinned. “It is?” she looked confused as his eyes flashed a look of want. “I need some downtime,” he ranted, “The boys are so loud, and I'm stressed, and I missed my sister,” he added that bit at the end with a toothy smile. Her brows furrowed as she looked from her mug up to him, “Okay,” she motioned to the chair next to her, an array of watercolours in front of her.

“Today,” she took a sip of her tea, “today is paint day,” Sunny smiled as she dipped her brush into the mason jar of water in front of her. Luke nodded as he pulled up a chair next to her at her desk, "I don't know what I'm doing," he mumbled as he dipped the brush in the water repeating her actions as he looked up at his sister for some guidance. She looked up at him with annoyance, "I'll figure it out, I'm sorry," he mumbled and dipped his brush into one of the pans, trying to figure out how to use watercolours.

Adam was next through the doors, a pout on his face as he collapsed down on her mattress a groan leaving's lips, "I need peace," he mumbled. Looking up with wide eyes at the siblings who sat huddled around her dorm desk and paint brushes in hand, "Can I join?"

She nodded with a grin and pointed towards her roommate's chair and the empty spot to her left, "I don't know what I'm doing," he whispered and looked at the other two. "You idiots act like it's rocket science," she sighed and handed Adam a brush, "Just paint something, it's supposed to be relaxing," she grumbled at the sheer stupidity of the two of them.

Both boys let out a hum of understanding as she nodded and the room returned to the tranquil state of silence, the only noise remaining in the dorm was now the sound of classical music playing in the background. She smiled as the minutes passed, her painting of the tulips sitting on her windowsill was coming along nicely, Sunny tried to hold back as she looked over to Luke and Adam's paintings both had blobs of very vibrant shades painted across the watercolour paper.

"I think I'm getting the hang of this," Adam grinned as Luke nodded, "it's very... what's the word?" "Abstract?" Luke said looking at Adam with a grin. Adam nodded, "Yes! abstract, exactly!" That was the breaking g point for Sunny, looking at the mess of both boys' pages and hands, laughter leaving her mouth as she hid her face in her hands, "It's lovely," she chuckled and placed a kiss on his cheek as he smiled proudly.

Luke shoved his paper infant of her, "How's mine?" he asked with a grin. Her eyes rolled as she looked at him unamused, "You're like five years old," she groaned, looking at his face full of hurt as he pulled the sheet away from her and continued to paint, ignoring her, "I'm kidding Lukey, its also lovely." "Thank god," he said with relief, "I thought maybe you thought it was ugly!"

Sunny sat there for the next hour reassuring her two favourite idiots that their work was pretty, surrounded by stupidity and a craving for approval, ruin ing her downtime, but in the most perfect way.

[rebelfell]

I feel like I took a lot of stuff from people’s rooms, so it’s only fair you get to take something from mine.

full transparency, the first four are plushies…

Thank you @aphrogeneias @mrsjellymunson @keeksandgigz

I wanna snoop in the rooms of @superblysubpar @littlexdeaths @palmtreesx3 @girlwiththerubyslippers @sidereustales @wroteclassicaly @welc0me-t0-hellfire @bettyfrommars and anyone else who wants to play!