#Free time? Rest? Man idk the world says youre only allowed to work & clean

[cc-tens]

Wanting to draw for weeks and weeks, and wanting to invest in creative things and trying to find fulfilment in Hobbies I like is rly difficult when things are always happening now and forever and all the responsibilities have dead lines and the work never stops and somehow taking a minute to do something for yourself somehow results in 80 new responsibilities that need doing and it needs doing now now now now

[catxsnow]

PROM DATES

Request: Hey, could I request a batmom where the topic "prom" comes up (idk how) and batmom says she never went there and regrets it and batfam makes her her "own" prom and she dances with all of her sons.

Warning: fluff

A/N: This was so freaking cute!! I loved writing it, all the fluffy feels 

GIF not mine

Word count: 2.4k

Bruce Wayne's kids didn't get along. They fought, argued, and even threatened to maim each other. However,  they would also die for each other, avenge each other, and fight anyone that tried to hurt them. They had a messed up family, but if there was one thing that they could agree on, it was how much they loved you.

Each Robin grew up with you in their life. You were there to support them, help them when needed, and be the person to look to when they needed guidance. They might not have been your own kids, but you loved them like they were. Bruce loved you for that. It was a crazy family that you had formed, but you wouldn't trade it for anything in the world.

Alfred had worked far too hard for you family. He never showed that the work was ever too much for him, but you knew that when you offered for him to take the day off and relax that he appreciated it more than you could imagine. You decided that it was your time to clean the massive Wayne Manor.

Hours of washing and scrubbing as your family worked themselves away down in the cave. It was nice having the place to yourself. Music was blasting and you were able to dance around without any of your kids teasing you for it.

By the time that you reached the study, you had found an old album of Bruce from high school. He looked far younger than he did now. Stress free, no wrinkles, still the same smile that he gave you now. He looked handsome, but that never changed with his age. You couldn't stop yourself from flipping through the album to see what his life was like before you.

He seemed so different back then. Sports, hanging out with his friends, being irresponsible. You didn't think Bruce was ever capable of that. It was when you reached his senior prom pictures did you stop to admire. He looked better than ever with his suit on and a smile on his face. No lines of stress or thick scars were on his skin. 

"(Y/N)!" You nearly jumped as you name was called out. You were far to engrossed in the album that you hadn't noticed Damian and Tim exit the cave. They looked excited to see you - as they always did. Tim moved to stand behind the chair you were sitting in and Damian stood at you side.

"Bruce looks so different," Tim looked at the pictures in shock. Damian analyzed his father, at that age he looked the spitting imagine of Damian. "His prom date doesn't even compare to you. Who was your prom date in high school?"

"I never went to prom," you sighed. High school was a long time ago, but you still regretted not going to your senior year prom. Getting to dress up and get your hair done, it was something that you never got to experience. It had been decades and you still missed not having that night.

"No one ever got around to asking me and all my friends had dates already. I didn't want to go alone," you explained to them. Tim placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. He had seeing you upset about things - especially so mundane like this where there was nothing that he could do to fix it.

"It seems lame anyways," Damian scoffed. He didn't enjoy the idea of wearing a fancy suit just to stand around in some gym with half-ass decorations and people who didn't wish to be there. To him, it was pointless. But he could see that this night meant something to you. He didn't want to see you upset about it.

You suddenly closed the album, not wanting to think anymore about your own past anymore. Tim and Damian looked between each other. It didn't take being the son's of Batman to realize that you were upset. You kissed the tops of their heads and ushered them to to the kitchen for lunch.

Tim and Damian walked far behind you and paused to glance at each other once more. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Tim asked.

"For once, yes."

><

All week you had been suspicious of your family.

For the first time in a long time, Jason had come home without your request. Dick was more giddy than normal. Even Damian seemed to hint at a smile every time he looked at you. Whatever they were scheming, you wanted no part of it. Last time they had those looks, a prank war nearly broke out.

Saturday morning, Bruce had offered to take you out for brunch. It wasn't very often that you got to lavish on dates, but he claimed that the media needed to see you out and about together - you were just happy to spend time with him. He also encouraged you to dress fancy since the place you were going to was rather expensive.

You loved getting dressed up for him - mostly because you got to hear the endless amount of compliments from him.

Brunch went as you expected it to. Delicious food, pictures from the paps, and the best kind of company with the man you loved. No matter the time or place with Bruce, you always loved getting to be with him.

He took the long way home, wanting to show you the new development that WE was working on. It was going to be a beautiful new building that would help thousands. You were always amazed at what Bruce could come up with. He held you hand the rest of the drive back, gazing over with love in his eyes.

There was a hint of a smile on his face as he drove up to your home. Something had been up with him all morning and you still weren't sure what it could have been. Nonetheless, you graciously accepted his hand as he opened the door for you and walked up to the doors of the Manor.

"What's with you?" You stopped him. You hand rested on his chest while the other was still intertwined with his own. "You look far happier than you ever are."

"Am I not allowed to be happy when I'm with my beautiful wife?" Bruce leaned down to kiss you again. You smiled into it, even more so when he pulled away. Only with you, did Bruce's gaze ever soften. "Come on, let's go inside."

Bruce pushed open the front doors and you were nearly taken aback with shock. Your front entrance no longer was the spotless floor that it usually was, but instead, was covered in classic high school decorations. A picture backdrop was in the far corner, a balloon arch right as you walked in, there were even streamers hanging from the high ceilings.

You felt like you were back in high school again. However, it was the decorations that caught your attention, it was how beautiful and handsome your adoptive kids looked standing in the middle of the foyer. For the first time in a long time, everyone had gathered together, just for you.

Dick, Duke, Tim, Jason, and Damian were in the best suits they owned. Their hair was styled and the all had gleaming smiles as they watched your expressions. Steph and Cass were there as well, both of them in gowns that looked so perfect on them that they looked way more grown than you ever remembered them being.

"What's all this for?" You asked. You broke away from Bruce's hold and did a full spin of the room to see everything that they had done for you. Finally, you had seen the prom poster with the year that you had graduated hanging up. "You recreated my prom?"

"You said you regretted not going," Tim spoke up. He looked over to Damian, who had been the one to help him get everything set up for you. "We wanted to let you have that special day, too."

Tears brimmed your eyes at the idea that they had gone through all of this just for you. Getting everyone together was hard enough as it was, you had no idea how Damian of all people was able to swing something like that. That was the thing, they all loved you enough that they didn't have issue to clear their plans for the day just for you.

Damian was the first to notice the tears in you eyes. He broke the formation that they had and approached you. He looked up at you for a brief moment before latching around your waist. You knelt down so that you could be eye level with Damian instead. He didn't say anything, but you knew what he had on his mind. "I love you too, Damian," You kissed his cheek.

He went back to his original spot and just as he did, music started to play. You had just noticed Alfred standing off to the side with a record player by him. Bruce stuck his hand out for you to grab, "May I have this dance?"

"Of course, my love."

Your afternoon had gone nothing like you expected it to that morning. The surprise of having your kids recreate something so irrelevant in their lives, just for you, warmed your heart. The conversation about prom with Tim and Damian had been so short, you never assumed that they even thought twice about it.

You were wrong, very wrong. They had managed to create you the perfect prom. They even played all the same music that was from your year, it was incredible. You had finally gotten the prom that you wanted, and this was far better than what it would have been in high school.

With this, you had the chance to dance with each of your sons, and the love of your life. Dick had been the most giddy to ask you to dance. The second that Damian had brought the idea up to him, he was all for. You were the most important person in his life growing up, he would do anything to make you happy.

Dick was grand and dramatic as he twirled and dipped you. As the oldest, and having known you the longest, he wanted to make the best first impression of your prom. You were laughing and smiling the whole time he danced you around.

Jason didn't look overly thrilled to be there, but his attitude changed as he danced with you next. Growing up, you were always his biggest supporter. Even now, with Bruce opposing all of his new morals, you still saw that excited little boy in him. For him, you were his voice of reason, you respected him in a completely different way than the rest of his family.

It was moments like those did Jason realize just how lucky he was to have you in his life. When your song ended, Jason had pulled you into a tight hug, muttering words of thanks quiet enough that the others couldn't hear. No matter what he did, he always wanted your praise.

Tim had been next. "I can't believe you did all this for me," You told him. "I don't think I can ever thank you enough, this is... this is beyond incredible."

"Of course I did it for you," Tim smiled. He spun you around in your dance before continuing. "I think if Damian and I can agree on something then it must be very worth doing. We love you, (Y/N). You're the best adoptive mom we could ever ask for."

"As crazy as you kids are, there's no other family I'd rather be in," You agreed. As the dance ended, Tim kissed the top of your head and allowed Duke to take his spot. Duke grinned as he grabbed your hand.

He always felt like he didn't have the same kind of connection with you as the rest of the kids, but he couldn't be more wrong. Duke was an excellent kid, and you were so beyond proud to say that you had a part in making him who he was today. "You look so grown up in that suit."

"I am grown up," Duke argued. He was. All of them were. They weren't the young Robin's that showed up broken and alone to your home. They were all - besides Damian - grown up. You wanted to hold onto Damian's youth forever, you feared the day that he would leave you and Bruce.

Finally, it was Damian that offered his hand to dance. His hair was slicked back and he looked just the image of Bruce. The older he got, the more you saw his father in him. "Thank's for doing this, Damian. It means a lot to me."

"It wasn't difficult," Damian tried to play it off. He was much shorter than the rest of your dance partners, but he had more skill than the rest. He didn't twirl or dip you, but you swayed around the entire 'dance floor'. "I'm happy that you're enjoying yourself."

As the last song ended, you were left feeling happier than you had in ages. Seeing all your kids together, getting along and chatting? That was all you wanted in your life. You hated seeing them fight, but you knew that they all had their reasons - as well as their reasons against Bruce. As much as he wanted to keep them safe, he was too hard on them at times.

Bruce joined you once more, snaking his arms around you from behind and kissing along your jaw and cheek. You looked around the room at everyone. Tim was dancing with Steph, Cass with Duke. Damian and Dick were chatting while Jason was talking to Alfred. This had been the most peaceful your home had been with everyone in it.

Bruce spun you around so you were facing him. His hands were low on your waist and he pulled you as close as he could. Once again, there was a loving smile on his face that was reserved only for you. "Today was perfect, Bruce."

"I'm glad," Bruce kissed you. He did a dramatic dip in the middle of the room, gaining the attention of everyone else. Dick had snapped a photo just at the right time. That picture would be better than any high school prom picture you would have had all those years ago. "I always wish you to be happy."

"I'm always happy when I'm with my family."

[ahsbitch]

Yes, Mr. Langdon---Fire & Reign!Michael Langdon x Reader

Word Count: 3228

Summary: Reader is F&R!Michael’s assistant, who is always quick to do whatever he asks. Michael wants to see how far she’ll go to do just that. 

Warnings: NSFW, lots of swearing, masturbation, Reader gets a facial, bootlicking, degradation, humiliation ish?, some Mean!Michael, but also kinda Soft!Michael at the end bc I’m soft and lonely at heart, that’s all I can think of idk

A/N: Hi I’ve literally never written any AHS stuff before so I apologize if this sucks but I really hope it doesn’t  

Being the personal assistant to the Antichrist was definitely not the easiest job in the world.

But when held in comparison to your time in restaurant service, it definitely wasn’t the hardest either. 

At least here, you rarely had to deal with obstinate customers. Most people were too frightened of your boss, Mr. Langdon, to yell or be rude in his presence, which you were constantly in, and on the occasion that they were rude or stubborn anyway, he had a tendency to give a little wave of his hand, incinerating them before your very eyes. 

No, the rudest and most needy person you typically had to deal with was Mr. Langdon himself. 

The rude came and went in waves. He could be cruel, demeaning, downright evil at times. He acted, in short, much like one might expect the Antichrist to. But sometimes, he could be charming, gentle, occasionally even sweet. 

The neediness came and went in waves too, although it was more often very subtly present than anything else. Usually he was commanding, powerful, clearly in charge. But sometimes, although still commanding, he could be almost childlike in his confusion and frustration. 

He was kind of an asshole, but he wasn’t the worst boss in the world. There was something about him that was compelling, that made you feel a great desire to please him. He was always specific about what he wanted, and you always complied, no matter how out of the box, how insulting, how simple or extreme, how kind or how demeaning. You said yes to everything he asked you. 

And he had begun to take great notice of it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Fucking, fuck, dammit to hell, this fucking, son of a bitch!” 

You sat at your desk just outside of Michael Langdon’s office, transcribing a giant tome of text as instructed by the Cooperative, and listening to your boss curse loudly at inanimate objects. 

You should probably get up, check on him, but you decided that until he reached the point of breaking things-

“Fuck!” He shouted, and then there was a bang and a very, very loud crash. 

Yeah, until he started doing stuff like that. 

You rose with a shake of your head, knocking sharply on his door three times. 

“Come in,” Michael sighed, and as you walked in you took note of the shattered computer against the opposite wall of his desk, turning back to look at your boss with his head laying against said desk, hands gripping at his golden curls.

Dammit, he was frustrated. 

Frustrated Michael could be particularly difficult to deal with. 

You stood before him, hands folded neatly in front of you, smiling pleasantly even though he wasn’t looking at you yet, “You sounded like you might be in need of assistance, Mr. Langdon. Would you mind fixing your computer?” 

He grunted quietly, giving a little swirl of his hand, although he didn’t lift his head, and you stepped out of the way as the technology flew back into place, drifting into its original position. 

“Very good. Now, if you don’t mind, could you tell me what’s wrong?”

“I’m not a child, Y/N,” Michael growled, and you bit your tongue gently to resist the urge to laugh. 

Moving to the side of the desk, you smiled to yourself at his little temper tantrum, “Of course not, Mr. Langdon. I am merely at your service.” 

“Of course you are,” Sitting up finally, he turned to you, and you were amused to see the pout that sat on his lips, the intimidating man looking suddenly very young, more his own age, “The mouse won’t work.” 

“May I?” You didn’t wait for him to agree, already wiggling the mouse once and then moving to the wires of the computer, fiddling with them quickly before sliding the mouse back to Michael, “That should do it.” 

“What was wrong with it?” He glanced up at you, voice gruff, although you could hear a hint of curiosity.

You shifted where you stood, trying to mask your discomfort, “Just, uh, just technology stuff.”

“Y/N,” Turning in his chair, Michael pinned you in place with his gaze, and you were unsure whether this was metaphorical pinning or not, with how frozen you felt, “Tell me what was wrong with it.”

“Yes, Mr. Langdon,” Trying to keep your smile in place rather than let a grimace take you over, you grit your teeth in preparation for him to do something violent, “The mouse wasn’t plugged in all the way. It’s a fairly common issue. Happens all the time.”

You tensed, but to your surprise Michael didn’t yell or break something or curse, like he usually did when he felt a sense of ineptitude. Instead, he laughed, and normally that would’ve scared you even more, but it was such a warm and gentle laugh that you felt yourself relaxing ever so slightly as he spoke, “Of course it was. Tell me, Y/N, is there anything wrong with you?”

Shrugging, you let yourself perch on the edge of his desk with a giggle, “Plenty of things, believe me.”

“Tell me some?” 

“Yes, Mr. Langdon,” Pausing, you mused over your words, testing each on the tip of your tongue before you said it, “Let’s see. My left foot is bigger than my right. I think jealousy is a very ugly emotion, and I hate it, but I have a lot of insecurities, and often find myself jealous of people around me in spite of my best efforts. Um, I read cheesy romance novels in my free time even though the writing usually makes me cringe. When people ask me what type of lipstick I use I always lie because I don’t want anyone else to have lips that look as good as mine. Oh, and even though I exclusively call you Mr. Langdon out loud, I will confess that in my head I usually refer to you as Michael. It’s faster, y’know.”

Chuckling softly once more, Michael nodded, “Those don’t sound too bad, as far as problems go. You’re lucky.”

“I prefer to think of myself as adaptable.”

“Fair enough,” He grinned, but something dangerous glittered behind his eyes, “You can go now, Y/N.” 

“Yes, Mr. Langdon,” You flashed him a small smile before hurrying out of the room.

Michael watched you leave, musing over your words. 

How far, he wondered, how far could he go with his wishes, before you gave in, before you said no. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Why the hell wouldn’t you say no to anything?

It was beginning to drive Michael crazy, watching the way that you gave in to whatever he asked, even when he was being absurd. 

You spent a full day doing all your work in nothing but your underclothes, simply because he asked. 

You gave sat on his lap through a whole meeting with other members of the Cooperative, your superiors, simply because he asked. 

You let him order you to do tiny things. Hand him pens that were two inches away from his fingertips. Kiss the floor where his chair had been sitting. Adjust the brightness of his computer screen for him only to come back and adjust it to its original brightness approximately two minutes later. Simply because he asked. 

What wouldn’t you say yes to? 

He was musing over this as he waited for you to return from a coffee run.

There you were, carrying two paper cups, a pleasant smile on your face. 

Always that same damn smile.

“I have your hot chocolate, Mr. Langdon,” You set the cup in front of him on the desk, “Thank you again for allowing me to get myself a drink.”

Michael glanced up at you, frowning, “Y/N, I always let you get yourself a drink.” 

Shrugging, you raised the cup to your lips and took a sip, “I know you do, Mr. Langdon. But it feels right to thank you. You’re a good boss.” 

Maybe not so much, He thought to himself as he twitched his hand, watching you drop the cup almost in slow motion, watching as the lid came off and your drink spilled just a bit onto his lap, just a bit onto his legs, cursing as the rest came splashing down onto his shoes. 

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry!” You gasped, staring at your now empty hands in shock.

Sneering at you, Michael snapped twice, “Don’t just stand there, Y/N. Clean up your mess.” 

“Right, I’m sorry, Mr. Langdon, let me go get-”

“No,” He grabbed your wrist, not allowing you to move away, and you turned back to him in confusion as he continued to tug you closer, “Get onto your knees, open your mouth, and clean up your mess.” 

Holy fuck.

Ignoring the way your face burned, you averted your eyes, whispering, “Yes, Mr. Langdon,” As you dropped to your knees.

Where exactly were you meant to go with this? 

Michael raised his foot, nudging your chin with it until you looked up and met his gaze, his eyes holding something dark and urgently, compellingly dangerous, “Well? Get to work, Y/N.”  

“Yes, Mr. Langdon.”

Before you could even think any further, he had touched the toe of his boot to your mouth, pushing gently against your bottom lip until you opened for him. 

He was a remarkably clean person, and beyond the taste of your coffee even the shoes themselves didn’t taste particularly bad. 

Probably because they cost more than your apartment. 

You moved slowly at first, but as Michael brought his hands down to wind tightly through your hair, you sped up. You lapped at the droplets of coffee, over the grooves of his laces and up to the sharp, pointed toe of the boot, and when you were done with one you switched to the other. He gripped your hair tightly, guiding your head, forcing you to bob up and down as you cleaned his shoe, and you wondered vacantly to yourself if he did the same thing while he was getting a blowjob. 

Probably. 

“Good girl,” He praised as you worked, his voice softer than you expected, and even Michael seemed surprised as he cleared his throat, his tone becoming darker, “You’re not bad at this. Do you do this often?”

Pausing your ministrations briefly, you shook you head, “No, Mr. Langdon.”

You were back at it immediately, feeling him tug at your head.

Michael was trying hard to sound intimidating, and of course he did, he always did, but there was something shockingly gentle behind his voice even as he growled, “Good. I should be your first priority. Tell me, do you enjoy this?” 

You had finished against his shoes, pulling away, and he released your head as he examined them, smirking at your heavy breathing, at the way you panted your answer, “Would you, uh, do you want me to enjoy this, Mr. Langdon?”

Narrowing his eyes, a frown etched across his face, “What? I mean, no. No, I don’t want you to.”

“Then I don’t,” You shrugged, rocking backwards.

Fuck, you were going to kill him. 

“What if I wanted you to?” 

“Then I would.”

Clearing his throat again, Michael stared at you for a moment before patting his thigh, “There’s coffee on my pants, as well. You’ll need to take care of that, too.”

“Yes, Mr. Langdon.” 

He didn’t touch you this time, instead bringing his hands up, reclining further back in his chair and resting his head against his palms as he watched you. 

Starting at the cuff, you stroked your tongue up his pant leg, pressing absentminded kisses occasionally as you went. By the time you’d reached the tops of his thighs, Michael was straining forward ever so slightly, dragging the chair closer to you with one ankle hooked around his desk, and then meeting up with his other ankle to lock behind your back. 

You took the hint, mouthing along the outline of his cock.

Holy shit, he was huge, and you hadn’t even seen it unconstrained. 

He hissed, quietly, his hips bucking forward as you licked your way up to his zipper, clamping your teeth onto it and tugging down without much thought. 

“Stop,” He said firmly, almost laughing as you scrambled back, “Don’t be greedy.” 

“Sorry, Mr. Langdon,” You dropped your gaze and licked your lips, tasting the remains of your coffee. 

“Is this...” Trailing off in thought, Michael guided your face upwards once more, forcing you to make eye contact with him, “Is this embarrassing for you, Y/N?”

“Do you want it to be embarrassing for me?” 

“Stop that,” He snapped, his grip on your chin tightening, “Stop bullshitting me. Give me a real answer. Truthfully, is this embarrassing for you?”

Tapping your fingers along your thighs, musing over your answer a moment, “Truthfully? Of course it is. A lot of the things you have me do, especially lately, I find humiliating.”

There it was. Now would you finally give in, finally reject a request? 

He didn’t say anything, just reached into his boxers and pulled out his cock. 

Neither of you spoke, staring at each other instead, and hesitantly you reached for it, flinching as Michael slapped your hand away just as you brushed your fingers against him.

“I told you not to be greedy.”

“Sorry, Mr. Langdon.”

After a moment more, Michael nodded, wrapping his own fist around his cock and beginning to pump it. You watched in fascination as moved, at the way his long fingers wrapped around his thick, long, perfect cock. 

“Y/N,” Snapping you out of your daze, Michael paused to spit into his hand, moving rubbing along the head of his dick before returning to his former position, “I want to jerk off onto your face. I want you to sit there, and watch me, and I want to finish on your face, and when I’m done, I want you to thank me, and I want you to leave it there. Leave it for the rest of the day, so everyone can see how desperate you are to please me.”

Surely, surely you would say no to this. 

“Yes, Mr. Langdon.” 

A growl made its way out of his throat before he could stop it, and he sped up his pace as he watched you fold your hands in your lap, adjusting your knees a little, staring up at him through your fluttering lashes. 

Snarling, Michael grunted, “You’re pathetic, do you know that?”

Did he want you to answer? 

“Keep your pretty little whore mouth shut, got it?” He spoke like he could read your mind, and you decided he probably could as you clamped your teeth shut, nodding quickly as he continued, “Fuck. You’d do anything I asked you to, huh? If I told you to kill someone, you’d do it without question, wouldn’t you? Hell, you’d kill yourself without question, if I asked you to. I think you like feeling humiliated. I think that your pussy gets wetter and wetter every time I tell you what to do. I- shit- I’m your fucking boss, and you’re on your knees for me before I can even finish telling you that’s where you need to be. It’s absurd. You probably want me to fuck you right now. You’re probably wishing I would let you open your mouth so you can swallow me down, you’re so desperate to get a taste of me.”

He was getting closer to finishing, you could tell, his rhythm getting faster and faster, his words becoming more sharply articulated. 

Michael kept going, almost like he was talking himself into cumming, “You can’t wait for me to finish, can you? You can’t wait to feel completely possessed by me, like I’ve somehow claimed you. You can’t wait for everyone who you see to stare at you, full of disgust and confusion. You want it, don’t you? Don’t you?”

“Yes, Mr. Langdon,” You nodded, shutting your eyes as he let out a low, shaky groan, his warm cum coating your face.

Fucking hell.

You opened your eyes slowly, carefully, unsure of whether or not you should move. You watched as Michael stuffed himself back into his pants, zipping them quickly, and then he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, holding it out to you.

You didn’t take it but blinked up at him, staring, “I, um, I thought you said to leave it.”

Clicking his tongued, Michael started wiping your face himself, his touch incredibly light, “I thought you’d say no. Tell me to stop. Maybe report me to HR.”

You flicked your eyebrow up, an amused smile settling on your lips, “Do we have an HR for the apocalypse?” 

Chuckling mirthlessly, he raised the handkerchief to his mouth and spat lightly, cleaning your face more intently, “You could say no, do you realize that? Why don’t you ever say no to me?” 

You closed your eyes as he rubbed across the bridge of your nose, dabbing delicately at your eyelids. 

“Have you ever seen The Princess Bride?” You asked, finally, as he moved to your hairline. 

His brow furrowed in confusion, “I, uh, no? No, I’ve never seen it.” 

“Yeah, I didn’t think so,” His hand moved to your cheek and you leaned into it before you could stop yourself, humming as his thumb moved to run across your skin, “You should watch it sometime. Before you do the whole ending the world thing and kill me and pretty much everyone else in the world and inevitably ruin Netflix. Forget about that. Let’s just say it’s because I’m afraid of you, yeah? You scare me, so I do whatever you say.”

Hesitating for just a moment, Michael pulled his hand away, eyes closed, frowning, “Is that what The Princess Bride is about? Being afraid of your boss?”

You laughed before you could stop yourself, and you found yourself wishing that he would touch your face again, although you didn’t dare say so, “Not quite. Just, uh, forget about The Princess Bride. It doesn’t matter.”

He nodded, folding his handkerchief and slipping it into his pocket without opening his eyes, which you found oddly impressive. 

You kept waiting for Michael to say something, to look at you, to move, to do anything, but he wasn’t and he didn’t and so you stood, and started to move away. 

“Wait,” He spoke finally, and you felt as though you’d been in silence for hours although you knew it must’ve only been a few moments.

“Yes, Mr. Langdon?”

“I’m not going to kill you,” Michael opened his eyes, looking at you carefully, “I mean, the apocalypse. It’s not going to kill you.”

“It’s not? I thought only members of the Cooperative, and the people rich enough to buy a ticket, I thought they were the only ones who were going to make it.” 

He wrapped his hand around your wrist, just as he had before, but this time it wasn’t aggressive, wasn’t rough. He was very gentle, his fingers skimming along the veins, pausing to feel your pulse thump against him, “And you. There will be a place for you in the new world, Y/N, I promise you that.”

And then Michael had released your wrist and turned away, and you made your way out the door and back to your own desk with a soft, “Thank you, Mr. Langdon.”

[somethinginthethunder]

dumb with love [joe mazzello x reader]

I loST THE FIRST VERSION OF THIS SO I’M SORRY THIS IS LATE. Also, I’m back!! I’m so sorry for that really long hiatus. 

I hope this is good. I haven’t written for Joe in such a long time, so he might be a little out of character, and my writing is just really bad and rusty :’)

Hope you enjoy, though! Feel free to drop a like or reblog, idk. 

Also!! I obviously don’t know where Joe lives, so don’t attack me for saying he lives in an apartment. This is for the sake of the fic!!

Plot: a misplaced letter sparks what seems to be a friendship (?) between you and the boy next door.

Word Count: 2,800

Warnings: none, except I haven’t reread this or edited (sorry).

---

“Hades, time to go inside,” you mumbled, tugging on the leash lightly.

The goofy schipperke made its way back to you, allowing slack on the leash that held him to you. His nose rubbed against your hand, signalling he was ready to move.

You clutched the coat against you. It was cold for some reason. You had just gotten back from work, and decided to take Hades out for a bit of a long walk.

When you returned to the apartment building, you had decided to check you mail. You knew there wouldn’t be much, but it wouldn’t hurt to check, obviously.

To your surprise, there was more than usual in your mail box. You pulled a small package out and let Hades hold on to it, collecting the rest for yourself. As you walked to your room via elevator, you decided to check through while you weren’t doing anything else.

And, curiously, as you were exiting onto your floor, there seemed to be one letter out of place. It was not addressed to you, but to a certain Joe Mazzello, your neighbor.

Now, you lived at the end of the hall, and Mazzello lived right next to you. Across from you was the cleaning closet. Had you seen your neighbors very much? No, admittedly. Perhaps you had seen him once or twice.

Of course, you weren’t going to keep the mail from him, so, as anyone would, a return would be in order. But, for now, you were going to drop your mail and Hades off.

Oddly, the universe seemed to want to put your plans off a little.

Right next to you you could hear the click of a lock. Turning your head, you realized someone had left the apartment next to you. He was a young man, with auburn hair and hazel eyes. His hair was a little messy, but his aura was casual and friendly. Was he Joe? Most likely.

“Oh,” you said. Oh??? OH? Outstanding conversation starter, [y/n].

“Oh?” the stranger echoed, just realizing your presence next to him.

You cleared your throat, a bit embarrassed. 

“Sorry, but are you Joe Mazzello?” you asked.

For some reason, that made him break out into a smile. “Yeah, that’s me!”

Relief washed over you for a moment. “Great! Sorry- does that sound weird? It’s just- I think I got one of your letters by mistake,” you said, stumbling over your words. If you could only choose one moment in your life to facepalm, it would be right at that moment.

“Really? That’s pretty weird,” he, Joe, commented, taking the letter that was presented to him by you.

“Yeah,” you agreed.

This left you in a quiet, awkward position. Neither of you knew how to comfortably continue the conversation. Thankfully, Hades didn’t seem to care, as he got impatient. Whining, he pawed at the door to be let in, dropping the package he was tired of holding.

“Ah, I should probably go. Enjoy your mail,” you coughed, opening your door for your furry friend.

“Definitely. Thanks for returning it!” Joe grinned, finishing locking his door.

“No problem.”

And that seemed like the end of the conversation. Until-

“Wait,” he suddenly said. 

You turned back to face him, your hands lingering on the door and entry way. “What’s up?”

“I didn’t get your name,” he murmured, now standing to face you completely.

Something about that gave you a bit of a light and friendly feeling. Almost comfortable, despite being strangers.

“I’m [y/n] [l/n],” you said, reflecting his smile.

“Cool, cool,” he responded. “I’ll see you around then, [y/n],” he beamed.

You hoped that statement to be true when you bid farewell to each other and parted ways.

You just didn’t expect it to be so soon afterward. 

The cafe was quiet and peaceful. You were responding to a client’s email on your phone, sipping your drink. In your mind, you had decided to leave and return home in maybe ten minutes. But, once again, the universe seemed to foil your plans again.

“[y/n]?”

The sound of his voice, and your name, of course, made your head shoot up suddenly in its direction. There he was, clad in a dark shirt, jacket, and jeans. In his hand was a cup of what looked like coffee, his other hand stuffed into his pocket.

Shutting off your phone, you suppressed an unusually large smile. He was just your neighbor, no need for a smile so big. 

“Joe! Hey, take a seat if you want!” you greeted back. He took the seat across from you gratefully.

The conversation that followed lasted, what? Ten minutes? Thirty minutes? No, it was more like an hour, which was strange for someone like you. You had decided to talk about some mundane things, like the weather and how your guys’ day was. Turned out he had just come back from a meeting. And that had pulled in the topic of jobs.

“What do you do?” he asked, genuinely curious.

“I’m a photographer, actually. What about you?” 

“Ooh, I’m an actor.”

Oh, now that really started the conversation. As time passed, you became even more comfortable with each other. He was an actor? Now, how was that not supposed to be interesting? 

“Wait, really? Was that what the meeting was for, then?” you asked, a little shocked by his modest answer. He seemed proud, that wasn’t a lie, but in no way was he boasting.

“Yeah! I got to meet all my co-stars, so that was pretty fun,” he answered. “What about you? You said you were sending emails?”

“Yeah, kind of boring, but it was just for an appointment I had just finished. I need to get them all done since I’m going away for a couple of weeks.”

“For what?” 

“Just visiting family. Kind of like a reunion,” you replied. In reality, you grandmother was sick, but you didn’t feel like it was too important of a detail. Besides, the pity you get from just that statement was a little tiring.

“I bet your dog, Hades, right? Will have a fun time somewhere new, then!” he beamed.

In return, you gave him a bit of a sad smile. “He would, wouldn’t he? But he’s not coming. Travelling stresses him out, so I’d rather not move him unless it was necessary,” you clicked your tongue. “In fact, I still have to find him a dog sitter. Everyone I know is busy so-”

“I’ll watch him!’ he offered immediately.

That made you pause for a moment. “Are you sure? I mean, he’s no trouble at all, but still-”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” he said, a confident sound in his voice. “We haven’t started filming yet, and the project is still new for us. Besides, he sounds like a pretty fun dog to be around.”

You laughed at that statement. “Yeah, he is. I’m leaving in a few days, but if you change your mind, you can tell me. I can really just hire some random dog sitter near me or something.”

“Nonsense, it’ll be fine!” he reassured you, drawing out the “fine” as if it had a million letters in it.. At that moment, he took a quick look at the time. “Look, i’ll give you my number and we can talk about it, okay?” he offered.

The thought of giving him your number made you feel as if you heart had been filled with clouds. How strange, as you had only met a few weeks before.

“I- okay, sounds good. Thank you again! And here,” you held out your phone to him with an open contact, to which he exchanged his number with you.

And only moments after that, though he insisted he really did not want to end this conversation, he decided it was time for him to head out. The cafe closed early that day, and he had to drop by a friend’s house that day to pick something up. However much you didn’t want to admit it, you wished you could talk with him more, but you also had things to do as well, such as pack, plan, and give attention to Hades.

With that, you bid farewell again and parted ways. 

While texting, he made conversation easy, and made everything seem comfortable to you. Now, you had started developing some type of feelings, but there was no way they were real, right? Must’ve been just a little crush that would wear off in about a week or two when you’re away. 

You had talked about the details with taking care of Hades, and when the day came to leave, you unfortunately had to say goodbye to your lovely little boy.

“Bye, sweetheart. I’ll be home before you know it,” you cooed, scratching his head as Joe held the door open to bring his stuff in. It was early in the morning for everyone. He was wearing a plain white shirt and what looked like old shorts, looking as though he had just woken up, which he probably did. Your flight was early, but he insisted he was fine with the hours.

Standing up, you looked up at the boy next door once again.

“You sure you’ve gotten everything?” you asked, slightly worried.

“Don’t worry about it, [y/n]. We’ll have fun, okay? Now, you have some too. I’ll send you pictures even,” he reassured you, a lazy smile on his face. He did that a lot, didn’t he? Smile like there was no problem in the world? It was almost like a domestic sight.

“Thanks, Joe. Really, I’ll pay you right when I get home and-”

“Woah, woah, woah. Who said anything about paying?” he snorted. “This is a favor. Now go, you’re gonna miss your flight!”

Taking one last look, you gave him a quick smile, and a kiss to Hades’ forehead before leaving onto the elevator. 

While you were away in [y/s], Joe had kept his word. Everyday he had texted you goofy pictures of him and Hades, whether it be with him looking over the counter longingly at a piece of meat Joe was eating, or him bounding across the park with Joe’s cheerful commentary in the background. 

And, to make it even better, Joe had started talking to you outside of the topic of Hades. He would strike up conversation every now and then (and even you would, too), or start asking about your day after sending a video of you goof of a dog trying to play hide and seek with Joe. 

It was nice, making you feel like he really did care about knowing you, besides talking about your dog and polite conversations. Eventually, a week in, the conversations became anything. Whatever you felt like talking about, you talked about it. Like why Pringles cans were shaped the way they were, why the letter w isn’t ‘double-v’ instead. It made you excited to come back home besides seeing your pup again.

While sitting with your grandmother in the hospital room, you had gotten a message from Joe. As she was still asleep, you decided to open it. It was a simple video, with Hades rolling around the house, to which Joe described as “trying to get his wiggle-waggles out”. 

A small laugh left your lips as you watched, responding to Joe within only a few seconds.

Because you were so invested in the conversation, you were surprised to hear your grandmother speak up from her supposed slumber.

“You’ve got a boyfriend now? Why does nobody tell me anything,” she murmured under her breath.

You turned your head to look at her, not realizing your phone screen was visible to the woman’s eyes.

“He’s not my boyfriend. We met only a few weeks ago, grandma. He’s dog-sitting Hades for me,” you explained. How absurd it was for someone to assume you were in a romantic relationship just because he was a guy. However, you’d admit you wouldn’t mind a little romance. But this isn’t what we’re talking about right now.

“Oh, really? Hum. A good connection you have, then, from what I can see.”

“You were reading my messages?”

“I may have terrible hearing, but my reading can go to your screen, young lady. If you’ve known each other for only a few weeks, then it seems like you guys clicked very well,” she murmured. “Besides, seems like a friendly guy. You don’t come by those too often, huh? Especially in my time.”

You smiled fondly at the moment, squeezing the woman’s hand gently. “Ah, I think they’re easier to find now, ma, I think you’d be glad to know. But you can’t really tell that just from seeing one of our conversations,” you commented.

“Or can I?” she asked mischeviously, her face morphing into a sly smile. Her eyes crinkled at the edges, voice filled with humor.

…

Could she? She couldn’t, right?

When you returned home, it was like a weight had been pulled off your chest. You couldn’t believe your flight was done, lugging your suitcases and bags across the sidewalk to your apartment building. Oddly, there stood two familiar figures. Hades and Joe.

“Welcome home!” he said, jogging down the steps with your excited companion. He grabbed a suitcase and bag from your hold. “Decided i’d help you with your stuff,” he explained, his eyes squinting against the bright rays of the sun.

“Aw, that’s really sweet, Joe. Thanks, you really didn’t have to!” you laughed.

“Don’t mention it!” he said teasingly, walking up the steps with you. 

Seeing him again had awoken something in you. It made your heart feel high and your intelligence feel low. Something your grandma would say ‘dumb with love’. 

You had thought these feelings would go away when you spent time away from him in another state, but you happened to be wrong. You didn’t know whether to be annoyed or glad of this fact.

Finally, after a short conversation about how your trip went, you had arrived at your guys’ floor. Joe took another extra step in help and decided to help you put your things inside your room. It was as if he was finding every excuse to hang out with you as much as he could.

When you finished with the moving, and the conversation seemed to come to an end, you took out a neat wad of cash. 

“What’s this for?” he asked, before realizing. “Oh. Oh, no. Are you crazy? I’m not taking that. As I said, it’s a favor.”

“Fine, then take this as a favor,” you challenged sassily. 

“You wish, princess,” he joked, laughed at the situation. Before you could process the little nickname, he had pulled out a letter and held it out to you. “Also, I think this is for you,” he said.

What a coincidence. Another misplaced letter, just like the way you two had begun to know each other.

“Really? Weird. Thanks, by the way,” you chuckled, taking the letter from him.

For a fleeting moment, he seemed nervous. How did you pick that feeling up? You weren’t sure. But there was something there between the two of you. This silence wasn’t awkward like the ones before, but nice, actually.

“Well, I should probably head to work. I’ll see you around?” he asked, as if trying to reflect what had happened weeks before.

“Definitely. I’ll look forward to it,” you responded, glee evident in his face when you agreed.

And that was the end of the conversation for that time, with him leaving for work and your heading inside to unpack and catch up on clients. 

Later that night, you had realized you hadn’t opened up the misplaced letter Joe had returned to you, yet. Upon further inspection, you realized that… it wasn’t even a proper letter. All it had was your name on it and gibberish as the return address. How strange.

Opening the letter, it read:

Dear [y/n],

This might be embarrassing to say after only knowing each other for a short amount of time, but I really enjoy being around you. 

I know I won’t let you pay me for taking care of Hades, but maybe you could let me take you out on a date and we can call it even instead of cash? I’ll pay, don’t worry. 

No pressure!

Signed,

Joe

P.S., please let me dog-sit Hades more often- I (really) love him. He’s a good dance partner. And no, I’m not joking.

Enclosed in the envelope were several pictures of Hades playing with Joe and early morning pics that he hadn’t sent to you before. It was like a little bonus, and on the back he had written little notes describing the moment. It was sweet, really.

And so, in response to his letter, it only seemed appropriate that you would respond in the same way, right? 

Taking out a paper and pen, you began to write:

Dear Joe Mazzello,

--

Haha don’t hate me, please :)

I didn’t want to write more because I felt that would be too long, but I don’t know if you guys would even want a part two or to make this a series (which would take some time). Let me know your thoughts!

[vierafication]

About Lio

NAME OF YOUR MUSE CHARACTER: Lionnet Blodoint

ONE PICTURE YOU LIKE BEST OF YOUR CHARACTER’S FC: I don’t do faceclaims. I just don’t feel comfortable searching the internet for some random human being’s face and then pasting on a fictional character without their permission lol

TWO HEADCANONS YOU HAVE FOR YOUR CHARACTER:

Lio is always, always prepared. That means that his clothes are always clean and wrinkle-free, not a hair out of place, not a spec of dirt on his boots- but also that he’s got a medkit with him at any given time. That big long coat of his carries within it gauze, small vials of different commonly used potions, bandages, medicines, a small book on herbs. I compare it to the caricature of that guy at the street corner who opens his big coat and tries to sell you stuff. While all this is primarily for healing, Lio has used some of the sharper implements in self-defense!

In regards to self-defense, Lio is actual garbage. He’s stick-thin, and while he’s perfectly healthy, he’s not the least bit muscular. He’s never been trained in much more than basic fighting skills from his school days and never plans to use them. But in certain situations, he’s proven surprisingly good at throwing very sharp objects with pinpoint accuracy and speed- which he chalks up to dumb luck. But his eye for precision and attention to detail makes him quite competent.

THREE THINGS THAT YOUR CHARACTER LIKES DOING IN THEIR FREE TIME:

Reading. Lio doesn’t like to have free time- he feels every second should be devoted to something productive. But resting and relaxing is important for one’s overall well-being, so he allows himself a few luxuries. Books are one of them. He loves detective stories, mysteries, thrillers- but also might have a few sappy romance stories on his shelf. Nothing better than a comfy armchair, a new book, a cup of tea, and no one to bother you.

He can also be found reading horribly boring nonfiction works and literal textbooks because, as he says, “one should never stop learning!”

Cleaning. He cleans a lot! Everything must be perfect. Spotless. Organized especially. Everything has a place and if things are out of place this is a horrible detriment, or at least he thinks so, especially in an infirmary.

SEVEN PEOPLE THAT YOUR CHARACTER LOVES/LIKES/RESPECTS:

Quincy Pallene: Perhaps the only person Lio actually loves is Quincy. Once a Brume boy being helped out by House Argent’s Silver Table Accords, then a ward of the House, then a ward of Lio himself, then his actual adopted son. Lio treated Quincy like a responsibility at first- someone he needed to help as much as possible, but not somebody to have a relationship with. But the quiet, awkward boy was one of the few people to break down Lio’s walls and an awkward father-son bond soon emerged. Lio is consistently proud of Quincy, and would do just about anything to see his son succeed.

Anselme de Haillenarte: One of Lionnet’s friends. Yes, friends! There’s so few of those, but Anselme would top the list. He’s consistently kind, friendly- perhaps a bit too much for Lio, who much prefers quiet and gentle conversations- and also very chivalrous and honorable, traits an Ishgardian knight should have! The two manage to get along, somehow, mostly thanks to Anselme just outright deciding to be Lio’s friend and occasionally dropping in unannounced for tea.

Alexandre Belliard: Another friendly face, one he hasn’t seen in a while, but someone he also respects and enjoys spending time with (not that he’d admit it!). Alex is an older knight and a good guy to grab a drink or two with, and one of the few people Lio can talk to that agrees with him on his more conservative views regarding Ishgardian politics.

Idristan Agache: Enough time spent working together has given Lio enough to trust Idristan. Not the kind of trust that they’d share secrets or anything, or even interact at all in the world outside of the jobs they’d participated in together, but the kind of simple trust that “he’s got my back.” Still, Lio will consistently disapprove of Idris’s wanton void-hunting activities and the horrible influence they’re having on one Luca Black.

Killian de Bayle: Lio’s boss, essentially. Another healer, and one he’s come to respect greatly, though still is very confused on. Regardless, Killian’s skill, especially with his blindness, is very impressive, and Lio ranks him among the healers and chirurgeons he’d respect most.

Gemini de Argent: With a personality and temperament seemingly quite similar to Lio’s, it would appear that the two would become fast friends- unfortunately, when two people both hate talking, they won’t talk! Still, Gemini is a nobleman who cares about the world outside his own estate and has made great strides to help it, especially at his young age. Lio finds him somebody quite respectable though finds his very liberal views quite grating.

Vilette Laurent: Vilette isn’t somebody he’s really gotten to know, but has interacted with on several occasions. She seems to be reliable, respectable, honorable, chivalrous, etc. and that’s just the sort of person the world needs.

TWO THINGS YOUR CHARACTER REGRETS:

Not being there when his younger brother fell in battle, and thus not being able to save him. As well as the vast amounts of other Ishgardians he was unable to save because they were ripped in half or burned to a crisp or whatever by a horde of fucking dragons.

That he hadn’t met Quincy sooner, and that Quincy thus had to suffer under his abusive biological father for that period of time.

A PHOBIA YOUR CHARACTER HAS:

Dragons. As stated above, they’re terrifying and he has seen just about each and every way they can kill or maim a man. Lio still has trouble with this, though it’s not quite a phobia- there’s a definite primal fear there that won’t go away, but there’s also an intense hatred which easily overtakes that and consumes all else. But anything even remotely draconic will remind him of the war, and he’ll get antsy around pet dragonets and even au ra.

Tagged by @roses-and-grimoires ! Thank you for the tag. Tagging... idk yet, I have to do another one of these.

[electroma89]

DO THEM ALL

JESUS CHRIST WOMAN!!!

flower crown: when did you last sing to yourself?

today, I was doing my makeup and singing to “Hand of Doom” by Black Sabbath

fairy lights: if a crystal ball could tell you the truth about anything, what would you want to know?

oh boy, knowing if god exists is really tempting

daisies: what is the greatest accomplishment of your life?

learning to love myself exactly as I am

1975: what is the first happy memory that comes to mind, recent or otherwise?

I was at left side of the stage, second row, 17 years old and completely mesmerized

matte: if you knew that in one year you would die suddenly, would you change anything about the way you are now living?

I would worry waaaaaaay less that’s for sure, I would treat myself more often without feeling guilty

black nail polish: do you have a bucket list? if so, what are the top three things?

I used to, but concert tickets and trips are always there

pantone: describe a person close to your life in detail.

oh man, there’s this person who has wild hair, easy laugh, short temper and crazy ideas

moodboard: do you feel you had a happy childhood?

partially, I mean at that time I felt I was a very happy kid, but now looking back I realise that some attitudes my peers had towards me weren’t “normal” (like teasing me for some of my physical features), and some feelings I had weren’t part of “growing up” (dissociation). Of course I wish I knew that “this weird feeling” was called “being nonbinary” too.

stars: when did you last cry in front of another person?

I don’t remember exactly when, but it was in front of my mom

plants: pick a person to stargaze with you and explain why you picked them.

you know what? I would pick the shit out of you!!! I would love to see you face to face in first place, but also have long talks and laughs under the stars, that would be so nice

converse: would you ever have a deep conversation with a stranger and open up to them?

with a total stranger? no, I made that mistake already

lace: when was your last 3am conversation with someone, and who were they to you?

my boyfriend probably? idk I’ve been sleeping super early lately (aka 1 am)

handwriting: if you were about to die, and you could only say one more sentence to one person, what would you say and to whom?

I can’t really answer this bc depends on the circunstances of my death

cactus: what is your opinion on brown eyes?

I have brown eyes, brown eyes are the shit!

sunrise: pick a quote and describe what it means to you personally.

“… and live my days instead of counting my years” (do lyrics count as quotes? idc), for me it means to cut the bullshit and just live to be happy and not caring if I’m too old to enjoy something

oil paints: what would you title the autobiography of your life so far?

“when will the next adventure start?”

overalls: what would you do with one billion dollars?

OH BOY! I would help my mom to start her own bussiness, I would travel to every country, try every food, I would buy every instrument and learn how to play them all, I would hire teachers and study until I was fluent in every language I love, idk fam so many things

combat boots: are you a very forgiving person? do you like being this way?

no, and yes, sometimes you just need to get rid of the shit in your life and not feel guilty about it

winged eyeliner: write a hundred word letter to your twelve year old self.

dear 12 yo me:

hard times come, but at the end you’ll be ok, what you feel now is real, no one will lock you away if they find out, you’re not too weird, you’re not crazy, you’ll find a whole community who feels just like you, healing may be a bit late, but it’ll come, sadness (happiness, everything) comes and goes, you’ll allow yourself to exist: gross, ugly, fat, with bad eyebrows, and then clear skin, weight loss, body hair, lots of eyebrows tutorials, you’ll love yourself with everything you have, and you’ll find people who will do exactly the same

pastel: would you describe yourself as more punk or pastel?

more punk, definitely, but I’ve been adding cute pastel details to my style, like these cute phone/pc wallpapers and details in my makeup and nail polish and stuff

tattoos: how do you feel about tattoos and piercings? explain.

if they help people express themselves then fantastic! tattoos don’t work for me tho, and I’m a bit wary about piercings, bc infections and stuff

piercings: do you wear a lot of makeup? why/why not?

depends if I’m going out, weather and my mood, but normally I do a basic makeup routine with dark lips, I love to wear makeup btw

bands: talk about a song/band/lyric that has affected your life in some way.

Queen has been a HUGE staple in my life since always, since I could understand english their lyrics have shaped my life, and I dare to say their second album (Queen II) saved my life tbh

messy bun: the world is listening. pick one sentence you would tell them.

people deserve respect

cry baby: list the concerts you have been to and talk about how they make you feel.

ok let’s do this

Bjork - 2007 (best night of my life)

Los Bunkers - 2010 (best night out of my country)

Caifanes - 2008 or 2009? (idk I didn’t know them before the concert, I went with a friend) 

Queen + Adam Lambert - 2015 (so many emotions omfg)

Black Sabbath - 2016 (I expected more, not gonna lie)

grunge: who in the world would you most like to receive a letter from and what would you want it to say?

I prefer not to answer this one if that’s ok

space: do you have a desk/workspace and how is it organised/not organised?

I used to, know is full with boxes and other stuff

white bed sheets: what is your night time routine?

brush my hair, taking a collagen pill, brush my teeth and my braces, clean my face with astringent

old books: what’s one thing you don’t want your parents to know?

it’s the total opposite lmao, I want them to know I’m nonbinary so fucking badly, but since we’re invisible I don’t know how to tell them

beaches: if you had to dye your hair how would you dye/style it and why?

I’ve been through so many colors so far, I think the next step would be a rainbow style or something like that

eyes: pick five people to go on an excursion with you. who would you pick and where would you go/what would you do?

my bf

my cousin

you

a friend I no longer talk to bc damn I miss him sometimes and that would be great to talk and “close the circle” if necessary

a childhood friend

11:11: name three wishes and why you wish for them.

to have a steady income, bc I have to eat lmao

to travel, in and out my country, bc I wanna know as many cultures as I can

to be seen as a nonbinary person in this country, bc being invisible is not a privilege

painting: what is the best halloween costume you have ever put together? if none, make one up.

OH MAN I THOUGHT NO ONE WILL EVER ASK!!!

idk why I don’t have another one with better quality!!! but anyways: my aunt as Roger Taylor, my mom as Brian may, my cousin as Freddie Mercury and me as John Deacon (I want to break free video)

lightning: what’s the worst thing you’ve ever done while drunk or high?

talking about family issues with my bullies I mean that was dumb af

thunder: what’s one thing you would never do for one million dollars?

rape someone

storms: you on only listen to one song for the rest of your life, or only see one person for the rest of your life. which and why?

song, bc I’d go crazy otherwise, and probably “seven seas of rhye” by Queen tho I’m not sure

love: have you ever fallen in love? describe what it feels like to realise you’re in love.

I am rn, everything feels at peace and calm

clouds: if you’re a boy, would you ever rock black nail polish? if you’re a girl, would you ever rock really really short hair?

lol I’m neither and I rock both

coffee: what’s your starbucks order, and who would you trust to order for you, if anyone?

I don’t go to starbucks, but I’d trust any order to my mom or my bf, they know me the best

marble: what is the most important thing to you in your life right now?

feeling peace, being happy

THIS WAS SO DEEP FAM OMFG

[angelguk]

i could teach you - taeyong scenario - part two

Lee Taeyong - NCT

words - 1855

genre - man idk really is jus taeyong doing his ting my guy

warnings - vulgar language?? mentions of sex

dedicated to @yongsexual  ♥ ♥ ♥

part - one / two / three / four / five

You shoved your head further back into soft plush pillows beneath you and grumbled. Even through your eyes were shut the light was too brilliant in this room and someone somewhere was playing heavy metal at what felt like fucking dawn to you. Hissing, you jerked the covers over your hammering head, hoping the darkness would act as barrier against everything that was disturbing you. Unfortunately that didn’t work and you didn’t want to particularly move any of your dead muscles - maybe if you yelled something the owner of that horrendous music would at least turn it off.

“SHUT! UP!” you roared, although your voice was stifled by the cover you’d swathed yourself under.  No one responded to your shout and the music didn’t stop. You grumbled again, tossing around in the bed despite your bones feeling like mush and motion seeming like an impossible feet. Maybe if you repeated yourself the fucking noise would stop.

“SHUT UP!” you attempted once more. This time round your voice was shriller and audible. If the person listening to that crap wasn’t deaf they should hear you. But once again the music kept on playing but now some estranged man was screeching the lyrics over the hideous beat– he sounded like a cat yowling as it was choked to death.

“SHUT U-”

“What are you saying?” The music had turned itself off.

Your appendages transformed from mush to concrete in an instant and your fitful movements from before vanished.

“Did you hear me? I asked you a question. Don’t pretend to be asleep.” Feet collided with wooden floorboards making echoes as the person ambled steadily towards to bed you were currently trapped in.

“I, ah, did hear you. I just don’t want to particularly replyaAH-”

Daylight dazzled your eyes as the sheet was wrenched from your body leaving you exposed to the world, a choked cry emitting from your throat. By instinct, you lashed out, flailing your legs into the air and forming fists with your hands. However your punches hit thin air and both feet where immediately caught by large firm hands.

“If that was a scream, it was pathetic. And kicking the air makes you look like a child, not like a threat.” The owner of the voice released both your feet, allowing them to plummet to the bed like boulders.

You squinted in the light, raising a hand to cover your blinded eyes hoping for clearer vision. Sluggishly, you sight pieced itself back together but what greeted you literally knocked the breath out of your chest.

Translucent droplets dangled from his platinum locks sticking to the dewy skin on his forehead. Endless brown eyes gazed right back at you underneath fierce brown eyebrows, amusement and anticipation swaying within them. His lips were lopsided, positioning themselves in a crafty smirk. Your eyes straggled down his damp body, falling onto his porcelain naked chest and then landing on his lean arm keeping place a white cotton towel, strategically placed around his hips.

You shrieked, launching yourself out of the bed and hammering into the floor with a loud resounding thud.

“Who…Who are you?”

With a snigger the man plopped himself down on the bed and turned to face you, shaking water out his head in the process. “Lee Taeyong, and you are?”

“I didn’t ask you to say your name! I’m asking why the hell you’re naked and in my house-“

“I’m not technically naked – there’s a towel round my waist – and, second, this is my house. I should be asking you what you’re doing here,” Taeyong snapped back, the previous playfulness falling away like a discarded cloak.

“What do you mean this is your house…” You hesitated, whirling your head around despite the throbbing ache that pierced its way through your skull. That’s when you noticed the sheets on the bed where black, not blue like yours were. The floors had a different wooden board style and you can clearly remember that your bedroom window was not on the left side.

Soundless, you deliberately turned back to face Taeyong, a sheepish smile mortared on your face. He in return raised his eyebrows, eyes severe.

“Uh, sorry.”

“Save it. For what I did last night you need to pay me.” He moved his shoulders as he spoke, arching his taut muscles.

“What do you mean? Did I fuck a prostitute?”

“No. Don’t be dumb, I would never fuck you.”

Narrowing your eyes at the boy, you resisted the urge to tear his head off since you were currently at his mercy. Instead you took a deep breath and stood up, hoping that the added height would make you appear more authoritative. “Then what do you mean I should pay you. I have no money on me right now and-”

Shooting upright too, Taeyong turned to give you a taciturn stare. ”You should pay for my ruined suit and for nearly getting me fired last night. Also for the free ride I gave you to my house and the bed I gave you for the night – which is mine – while I had to suffer on the couch. And how about the change of clothes I gave you? I had to clean your vomit off of you!” Taking a step closer to your direction, Taeyong crooked his head. “I think that deserves some payment don’t you sweetheart?” His tone was bitter and clipped, coating your apprehensive heart with panic.

No words came out of your mouth, only air as you were left standing speechless, groping in the dark for something to say. Still glaring, Taeyong stalked towards you, grabbing your arm with one astonishingly taut grip and hauled you out of his room.

“I need to change.” And with that the wooden door banged closed in your face with such a loud finality you winced, hearing the low reverberation in the hall you now stood in.

Dazed, you backed away from the door, trailing your bare feet against the cool floor until your back thudded against the opposing wall. A sudden wave of fury erupted through your veins. Involuntarily, your hands curled themselves into fists and the need to punch his face became unbearable.

“Asshole.”

“HEARD THAT!”

Scowling bitterly at the door you twisted away and sauntered down the narrow hallway. The cream walls were unadorned and vacant, making the journey even more daunting because you were starting to think that I knew nothing about this man apart from his name and his face.

The hallway ended in an open spaced kitchen, much to your sudden growling stomach’s approval, with a small living room connected to it. The marble island in the middle of kitchen was naked apart from the knife set placed on it. Still amazed by how uninhabited Taeyong’s home looked like, you decided to make yourself at home and get a glass of water.

It’s only after you drowned two glasses, did your hazy memory from last night begin to turn crystal clear.

“Oh my God.” Slamming the glass on the counter you struck yourself in the face, eyes wide and legs pacing around the room. “Oh my God. Oh my God.” How could you forget what happened last night? How? The image of Jaehyun naked in bed with another woman wasn’t going to leave your mind anytime soon. And then what you said to him, after everything he did last night. Holy shit. Frantically you searched the room, hoping for a magical escape route to appear out of thin air

Your eyes instead fell upon your phone disregarded on the marble counter next to the microwave.

Relief flooded your body and you quickly snatched it up, tapping the screen to check the time. Ten forty-five, Thursday morning. Requesting a day off was a good idea now that you think about it; or else your boss would be wondering where you were. Your fingers snapped across the screen typing out the password. Twenty-three missed calls awaited you: Eight from Hansol, two from Jaehyun and 13 from Minyoung. Thirty-four messages also glared back at you from the screen, three from Jaehyun and the rest of them from Minyoung. You swore violently under your breathe

“Finally getting connected with the world again huh.” Taeyong’s voice wrapped itself snugly around your frame from behind and you were suddenly hyper aware of how close the boy was. “Who missed you – whoa? Who’s Minyoung? Is that your best friend?”

You whipped around effectively thrusting Taeyong away from your body and shielding you phone. “That’s private information; hasn’t anyone ever told you you’re a creep!”

“Once or twice.” Taeyong beamed at you, resting his back against the marble island behind him. You frowned at him, still keeping the phone pressed against your chest. “Anyways, who’s Minyoung? Boy or girl, your ex who cheated on you last night…”

“Girl, best friend, probably going to rip my head off when I see her.” You exhaled, leaning back on the counter and skimming through the messages Minyoung had sent you. A hush overlapped both of you which consisted of Taeyong watching you read the vaguely threatening messages and you trying to figure out a way to explain to Minyoung what happened.

From the messages, it seemed like Jaehyun had called her asking where you went. Minyoung then proceeded to find out about the whole scenario and threatened to kill him after she found and slaughtered you. Great.

“Ahem.”

Your head shot up, eyes focusing on Taeyong who was still smiling.

“Now that your friends know you’re not dead, let’s talk about how you’re going to pay me back.”

“What?” Scrunching your face up in dissatisfaction you squinted at his profile. “I thought you were joking.”

“I don’t joke sweetheart. And honestly you need to pay me back; I have never cleaned puke for free.”

“When have you ever cleaned puke?”

“I did last night.”

You rolled your eyes at his audacity, glancing up the ceiling like a cry for help. “But I don’t have any money-”

“I don’t need money from you. What I want is a favor.” His brown eyes looked at you expectantly, while he crossed his arms over is wide torso. It took you longer than necessary for you to get the gist of the message.

“I AM NOT HAVING SEX WITH -”

“NO! No; I mean an actually favor, not sex – I can get that anywhere.”

You halted, gazing him in the eyes which revealed no clue to his favor. It couldn’t be that dangerous if he didn’t want sex, and besides curiosity was eating you away now, maybe it couldn’t hurt to hear what the favor was.

“Okay. What’s the favor?” It couldn’t kill you to know. Right? Right.

Taeyong hesitated, eyes flickering to the distance while he chewed his bottom lip in contemplation. Perhaps he was regretting asking you for the favor already. But when he looked back his eyes where painted in determination and sparkled with mischief.

“Well first, I need to know your name.”

“Y/N.” You swiftly spat out, wanting to get straight to the point.

“Fine, okay, Y/N. I need you to be my girlfriend.”

a/n: heyyy thank you for reading!! :)) no soundtrack today :(((( but i’ll tell you a little secret the last soundtrack for the last part of this fic is ed sheeran’s hearts don’t break around here. you’ll understand by part three. anyways hit me a message my ask box is open! - fyra

[but-the-library-of-alexandria]

30 Day Flash Fiction Challenge - Day 10

OMG I’m a third of the way through! I won’t be finished until the day I move back to uni, wow... 

This one is not flash fiction at all, I rambled for four pages haha... but I love love LOVED doing this one! It’s sweet and gay and idk I just really liked it for some reason? I can picture the house and the characters and the woods so so clearly, I might have to reuse them some time.

Day 10: an explorer with MPD, a widow, a house in the woods

This is exactly how people die in horror movies, Sara thought to herself as she approached the door of the big house, accompanied only by the smoke from her car’s busted engine.

The house looked a little out of place, in the depths of a lightless pine forest, a sprawling country manor closed in on all sides by the ramrod-straight trunks of towering firs. There didn’t even seem to be a garden, unless the needle mulch on the ground counted as a garden. The door, framed with decadent columns, was painted red and hung with a brass knocker. Wishing she was literally anywhere else, Sara knocked.

It took a long time for her to get an answer. She even knocked a second time. Just as she was thinking of giving up, the door was opened by a woman about Sara’s own age. She had soft features, wavy dark hair pinned loosely on her head, and slightly downturned eyes that gave her face a gentle look. She was wearing a country-style jacket over a tea dress. It must have been cold in the house.

“Can I help you?” she asked.

“This probably sounds really cliche,” Sara said. “But my car broke down, there’s nobody else around for miles, and I’m guessing no mechanic can get out here until tomorrow.”

“Poor dear - you’re right, I’ve heard it all before. I’ll get a mechanic to come out first thing in the morning. Would you like to stay the night? We have plenty of spare rooms. We get a lot of lost wanderers coming by to stay. Some even call ahead.”

Sara ought to have realised that a huge place like this in beautiful, wild country like this would be frequently used as a guest house. “How much do I owe you?”

“Don’t worry about it. We have plenty to share.”

“Thank you.”

“It’s a pleasure. Come inside. What’s your name?”

“Sara Kapoor.”

“I’m Cadence Mayweather. Welcome to my home.”

The house was stunning. Cadence lead Sara down a long, high corridor, lined with statues and works of art. The floor appeared to be marble. The ceiling was richly decorated, some of the panels set with mirrors so that Sara saw her own upturned face as she admired it. It was, however, as cold as Cadence’s jacket suggested.

“This is your house?” Sara asked the woman.

“It was my wife’s.”

“And you got it in the divorce?”

“I got it in the will.”

“Oh. God, sorry.”

“Don’t worry. It was years ago now. Here she is, look - ” she stopped to look at a painting on the wall. It showed a woman in a tweed jacket and a sun hat, grinning with her hands on her hips.

“Rosie was an adventurer,” Cadence said. “She was born in this house, and then she went all the way around the world and came right on back to it. She loved to explore, but she knew that one couldn’t explore the far-of climes before one had explored one’s own backyard, so to speak. She loved this house. She loved that there was no mobile signal for miles around. That meant nobody could call her home while she was out. That made the whole place an untrackable mystery. I was always a city girl, but she couldn’t live without the green.”

“She looks nice,” was all Sara could think to say.

“She was. Cheeky and funny and full of life, and nice. Dear Rosie… of course she would catch her death out there. She was far too gung-ho. I think I always expected to outlive her.”

“So now you live here on your own?”

“Almost, yes. I have our old housekeeper, too. And we have another guest staying at the moment. Guests? Guests. No, guest.”

“You don’t know how many guests you have?”

“I do. Well, maybe not. One body, two people. Declan was the one who asked to stay here. Desmond he bought with him in his head.”

“He has multiple personalities?” Sara figured out.

“Oh. Yes. Did I not say that? You must have thought I was talking in riddles.”

Sara had to stop herself from saying that Cadence seemed like exactly the sort of person who would talk in riddles, so she hadn’t questioned it. A widow, living all the way out here on her own but for a housekeeper, letting people stay for free and telling them stories about her late wife in her fancy mansion? She was allowed to talk in riddles.

“I think one of them is having dinner now,” Cadence told Sara. “Are you hungry? My housekeeper always makes too much for one person.”

Sara accepted the offer and Cadence took her to a dining room, where a man in a jumper was sitting eating a bowl of stew.

“Who is eating tonight?” Cadence asked him.

The man smiled brightly when they entered the room, putting his spoon down and standing to greet the newcomer politely.

“It’s Dec!” He told Cadence cheerfully. “And who is this?”

“I’m Sara,” Sara said. He shook her hand.

“Lovely to meet you. Are you joining me?”

“I think I am.”

“Excellent. Miss Cadence?”

“I’ve already eaten in the library, thank you, Declan,” Cadence said. Sara could picture her, curled in an armchair in her warm jacket with a big old book, picking at food from a tray at her elbow and sipping a steaming cup of tea.

Sara sat down. Cadence remained standing; she strolled around the room, admiring the art on the walls as if she’d never seen it before. An elderly man wearing a suit and a mustache bought Sara a helping of stew; this must be the housekeeper.

“No more food for you, Mrs?” He asked Cadence.

“No, thank you, Charles.”

“I’ll be painting then, if you need me.”

“Have fun.”

He ruffled her hair fondly as he left the room. For them to have become so close - and for Rosie to have died so long ago - Sara figured Cadence must have married very young.

“So,” Dec asked Sara as she started to eat, “what brings you to this neck of the woods?”

“I’m travelling,” Sara replied. “My car broke down.”

“Travelling where?”

“Around. All over the US. The wild parts, not the cities; I like being close to nature. I just lost my job, and I had a breakup last year, and I guess I decided to indulge in my freedom, get outside a bit. I never traveled much in college, and I have some savings. Well, had. What about you?”

“I’m an explorer,” Dec replied lavishly.

“Just like old Rosie,” Cadence said fondly. “If only she’d been here to receive you two.” She ended the sentence awkwardly, as if she’d almost added instead of me.

“I’m exploring these woods, just like Rosie,” Dec said. “She knew there was stuff out there to be discovered. I’m here to discover all the things she never did.”

“Like what? Wildlife?”

“Actually, I’m a geologist. I think Rosie was the ecologist.”

“She was,” Cadence confirmed.

Dec leaned in conspiratorially. “I’m looking for gold ore in the bedrock,” he told Sara.

“You think there’s gold in them there woods?”

“You wound me!” he said, not sounding at all wounded. “I am a professional. A scholar. I hypothesise that there’s gold in them there woods.”

Sara laughed. Dec finished his meal and stood.

“That was delicious, once again, Cadence,” he said. “Or, I suppose I should thank Charles. I’ll stop by his studio on my way.”

“To bed?”

“To the library. I have some charts to keep working on.”

“Have fun,” Cadence said again. Dec went on his way.

Sara kept eating. Cadence lit the fire in the fireplace, kneeling on the flagstones in her clean dress.

“Shouldn’t the housekeeper do that?” Sara asked.

“He’s painting,” Cadence replied, as if that explained everything. Once the fire was lit, Cadence hovered for a moment, ethereal in the mixed light of the fire and the cold evening sun, and then sat down next to Sara.

“Can I ask an insensitive question?” Sara asked.

“You may as well,” Cadence replied. Her accent was English, Sara finally recognised.

“You said you were a city girl. If Rosie died so long ago, why not move back to the city?”

Cadence looked up and around the room with a soft smile, as if appreciating the building around her. Her face was backlit beautifully by the fire.

“This is my home now,” she said. “I was not keen on leaving the city for this backwater when Rosie and I were planning the wedding, but now I couldn’t be anywhere else.”

The explorer in the jumper came back into the room and sat down without acknowledging the two women. He took another bowl of stew from the hostess cabinet.

“Who have we here?” Cadence asked.

“Desmond,” the man replied without looking up from his food.

“Oh, Des, sweetie,” Cadence said, “You already ate.”

Des looked up in surprise. “What?”

“I’m afraid Declan ate, just a minute ago. Do you not feel full?”

“No,” Des looked mournfully at his food. Then he started eating again.

“You can’t eat two dinners,” Sara said. “You’ll feel ill.”

“That can be Dec’s problem,” Des said around a mouthful of stew.

“It might be yours,” Cadence warned.

Des hesitated, then dropped his spoon with a clatter and a huff. He stood up and slouched out of the room, leaving his chair sticking out and his bowl on the table.

“As you were saying,” Sara said to Cadence. She smiled, a gentle, elegant little smile.

“I’ve changed so much,” she continued softly. “I couldn’t live in the city anymore.”

“That’s why I’m out here, too?”

“Because you’ve changed so much?”

“Because I don’t think I can live in the city anymore.”

Cadence nodded, looking down at the pattern on the flagstones. Downturned, her eyelashes lay on her cheeks like fans.

“Still,” she said, “you’re just a woman with a car. I’m rattling around in this enormous house, with just Charles and the occasional traveler. I wonder sometimes if I’m losing my mind, cut off from the world.”

“Well,” Sara said, trying out a shy smile and hoping the firelight on her dark skin hid her blush, “perhaps you’ll find someone new to come live in this backwater with you.”

Cadence smiled back, full of warmth and affection. “Maybe I will.”

Sara rested her hand on Cadence’s for just a moment, and returned to her stew. Somewhere, in his studio, Charles painted the face of the newcomer as best as he could from memory. In the library, a single lamp lit Desmond’s charts as he tried to make sense of Declan’s notes. The lights in the house windows were the only light for miles. Out in the dark, silent woods, there were a thousand things waiting, still waiting in the trees. Waiting to be discovered.