#this is very tailored to my own personal taste in music so sorry if your personal favorite lesbian song isn't on here <\3

[magnetic-dogz]

I think my sapphic/lesbian songs playlist is finally done :) I included songs that are just straight up about sapphic/lesbian experiences, songs by sapphic/lesbian artists, and songs that could have sapphic interpretations depending on how you read them. This one is for you #yuriwarriors

[justsomeoneintoomanyfandoms]

Hey, you can call me Brook! I was wondering if I could get a match up for a couple fandoms?

I’d like Haikyuu, My Hero, Demon Slayer, Genshin Impact, Honkai Star Rail, and Obey me!

If these are too many, feel free to just pick a few out of them! I would really like one of them to be haikyuu though.

Pronouns: She/Her

Sexuality: Pan/Demi

Zodiac: Aquarius

MBTI: INTP

Appearance: 5’9”, chubby thighs and belly, hazel eyes, shoulder length brown hair (with blonde streaks), glasses

Personality: I’m pretty quiet. I am however very sarcastic and even witty. I keep to myself normally. I tend to stay out of people's business, and people stay out of mine (i prefer to observe). I’m a true neutral on just about everything. I like things to be calm most times, but a bit of chaos is definitely needed. I get bored quickly and need something happening around me constantly, just simple things like a show or music in the background. I don’t listen to most people, i like to do things my own way. i’m very stubborn. i’m very cold to people i don’t really know or like, once i open up though you discover my sense of humour and my general clinginess to the people i actually like (which is very few people).

Likes: Volleyball, badminton, sketching, anime, video games, the color purple, heated blankets, sweet foods and salty foods (never together), cats, the smell of vanilla, cold weather, the nighttime, napping in the day, when you go to bed for the night, music, candles, mangas, baking, the stars, space, snow days, science classes

Dislikes: Spicy foods, being told what to do, super hot weather, being woken up, homework, having to actually do things, cooking

Extras: Resting Bitch Face. looks like they could kill you, is a cinnamon roll. my love languages are quality time and words of affection. im a picky eater. i love to complain.

If you aren't taking matchups right now, thats fine! Just ignore this!

Hi Brook! Thank you for your request! Sorry it took so long. This is more than I usually do but I don't have a limit to how many matchups you can request so you're all good! I hope you like your matchups!

In Haikyuu, I match you with...

Nishinoya loves your quietly sarcastic personality. You make a good balance of loud and quiet but people know not to do anything that gets the two of you to gang up on them. You’re both equally sassy.

He appreciates that you’re there for him. He doesn’t really talk about important things a lot but when he feels the need, he’s glad you’re there for him, even if you're not a good listner.

Please play volleyball with him! He would love getting to share his biggest passion with the person he cares about.

Also loves sharing naps with you. I see Nishinoya as someone who has short naps through the day when he gets a quiet moment. It’s how he gets his seemingly unending energy. And he always sleeps best when you’re with him.

Star gazing dates! He doesn’t know much about the stars but he’s willing to learn. He knows a few good spots around town that have a nice view of the sky.

In My Hero Academia, I match you with...

Oh, the quiet, sarcastic duo you and Shinsou would be. No one stands a chance against you two.

Nap buddies! Some of Shinsou’s favourite moments are when the two of you are laying together, both on the verge of sleep and he gets to look over at your relaxed face. He feels honoured that you’re so comfortable around him.

I see his love language as quality time as well so you can be sure you’ll spend a lot of time together. Sometimes that time comes in the form of talking or doing things together. Other times, it’s just enjoying the silence together.

Please take him to a cat cafe. You’ll both have the time of your lives and become regulars there. The staff know your orders off by heart at this point.

I think Shinsou would be surprisingly good at cooking so he doesn't mind taking on that role in your relationship. He knows you don’t like things too spicy and will tailor any dishes to your tastes.

In Demon Slayer, I match you with...

Another quiet one. Giyu is so glad you’re in his life. He already has to deal with the other Hashira and the kids. He doesn’t need another loud person.

Enjoys spending quality time with you. He doesn’t get a lot of free time with his work but when he does get a day off, he wants to spend it with you.

Giyu does find your stubborn streak annoying at times. He’s got to know that telling you what to do doesn’t work so instead, he’ll suggest things when he thinks he needs to. Otherwise, he lets you do what you want. You’re capable of being responsible for yourself and he recognises that.

As strange as this is going to sound, he likes that you like the same smells. I see Giyu as someone who likes gentle scents like vanilla so he wouldn’t mind getting some incense sticks to place around the house.

Please bake things for him, especially if he’s going away on a mission for a while. He’d smile to see your cooking wrapped up in his bag for him to enjoy.

In Genshin Impact, I match you with...

Another nap buddy! Layla’s sleeping habits only get worse when encouraged by your napping.

Appreciates that you stay out of people's business. She’s not a super nosey person herself so she’s glad you’re the same in that regard.

Layla enjoys watching your sketch things, she finds it relaxing watching the drawing unfold before her eyes.

If you ever draw her or give her one of your drawings, she’s going to pin it up on her wall so she can see it every day. It gives her motivation. You worked hard to make that, she can work hard as well.

With her cryo powers, you won’t have to worry about hot weather. If it’s getting too warm, she’ll just drop the temperature around you for some respite.

In Honkai Star Rail, I match you with...

March is without a doubt the most outgoing person in this list. She’s the one to draw you out of your shell and bring out the best in you.

Really good with words of affection and quality time. She just somehow always knows what to say and will always make time for you.

If there’s something in your meal you don’t like, March is more than happy to eat it instead. She’s not picky about her food so she’ll eat pretty much anything you don’t want to.

There are definitely going to be stargazing dates with March. The Astral Express is one of the best places to see the stars but she likes looking at the sky on each new planet with you as well.

Definitely not someone to tell you what to do. March usually does her own thing as well, so even if she did want to tell you to do something, she’d feel like a hypocrite doing it.

In Obey Me, I match you with...

The ultimate nap buddy. You thought Shinsou and Layla were the perfect companions for a nap? Nope, Belphie takes that title.

You’re going to bond mainly over napping and your shared love of going to bed. But you have other similarities as well.

People know not to get on either of your bad sides. You’re very observant and they know what a power couple you are when you gang up on a shared enemy.

Dates in the observatory, looking at the stars. Belphie spends a lot of time there so he knows a bit about the sky. He’ll also keep track of meteor showers so he can take you to a lookout to watch them together.

He’s not great with words of affection but he’s good with quality time. Even if you’re both asleep, Belphie feels your presence and the warmth of being with someone he cares about.

[foxilayde]

Good morning/night Danny I hope you're doing well! Congratulations on hitting a follower milestone, this shipping event is so kind of you to do, and I can't wait to see all the writing you have in store for us in the future.

I am tall vegetarian w dark curls and green-ish kinda scary looking doll eyes hahaha (they look like 👁️👁️). I would say I'm a very loving, sensitive, loyal and individualistic person and I really want to make people feel happy and like they can talk to me. I love hearing people talk about their interests. My fave things to do are watch movies, play video games, talk to my friends, travel, drink, play with my aquabeads, make people laugh, shop for free people, volunteer and bake Betty Crocker mix cakes LOL.

I study English lit and my favorite stuff to read is Medieval stories and poems. I love horror, it's my favorite genre of movies, shows, games and watching a horror movie is usually comforting to me. I love movies in general and I could talk about them for hours on end. I also love plays and musicals. My favorite thing to do with someone would be to watch a movie, play or musical with them, especially if they picked it. I'm also a night owl.

My top kink is probably breeding cuz the idea of being "claimed" makes me absolutely feral. I'm also a sub. Tell me what to do and you bet I'll do it.

Hahaha sorry this is a lot. Thank you very much!! Congrats again!

Ahahahahhaaaa!!! Wether you like it or NOT your ship is with OTTR!LETO!!!! (my own Frankenstein creation. No objections allowed.) But a subservient little thing like you?? With great taste in art?? You're done for.

He's a tough customer. A rough customer. A customer who will put all the employees to the wall. But he's YOURS.

You meet at an open house showing in L.A. You go to these things from time to time for the free champagne and the freedom it gives you to pretend you live a different life. You buy a dress you can't afford on Rodeo Dr. And you park your Civic a few blocks away for good measure.

At this particular showing in Venice Hills you're standing in the backyard, admiring the sunset, and when you turn around- you run into a man in a dark black tailored ensemble. Cut to form, toe to tip; chain as gold as his skin.

"Hi, sorry" you breathe out, intimidated by his presence.

You don't hear what he has to say in return, hurrying inside and up to the second floor.

While you're admiring the closet space of the master bedroom you turn again to find- him. Closer than he was the last time.

You mutter your apologies and make your way downstairs to the kitchen, where the free wine is pouring, and the avocado toast-ettes are being served.

He comes up behind you once again, and you swear it's on purpose.

So you boldly ask him, "what do you WANT?"

He chuckles behind a ringed fist, covering his mouth and says,

"allow me"

and tucks the tag of your borrowed dress into the top hem. where it was SUPPOSED to be. Christ.

"Thanks" you mutter through a mouth of avocado toast.

His smile is all but laughter, but he asks you with earnestness,

"You come to these things often?"

You decide to be honest with this man who is keeping your secrets.

"yes, actually. nearly every weekend."

"so? how does it compare?"

You're a bit taken aback, thinking that he might be messing with you. But it doesn't seem like he is...

"It's a very good house." you admit

"Ocean view" you say at the same time. You both laugh.

"my assistant... he scheduled me for this place. Didn't know if it was the right fit though...."

You nod. An assistant, huh? you chew on your toast.

"Let me buy it for you?" He asks, with adoration towards you.

"THE HOUSE?!" you've been propositioned on sugar daddy sites but this is somethi-

He laughs, "No, silly girl. The dress. Let me buy it for you. It suits you."

God, his smile is so captivating. So warm behind the beard.

"I don't know... I think I'll buy it myself. Seems pretty lucky."

He smiles at you adoringly.

"Then at the very least let me take you out to dinner, so you have somewhere to show it off."

You swallow your toast and acknowledge him with an admiring look,

"Alright then"

[tj-shmt]

A Day of Curation

Unless its Wednesday, it should be around 11am right now when i get up. First things first, put in my headphones and go get some good music! Its Monday - time to listen to my Discover Weekly playlist, which Spotify usually tailors perfectly to my tastes.

1. 🎶 SPOTIFY 🎶

Fun fact - this weeks "Discover Weekly" suggs. Usually I get the best music from there. I don't really recall the last time any of my friends really showed a song I didn't already know or was adequately good. Tho, I have to give Amelie some credit here, she constanly hits me with great Spanish tunes. (Also to Jasi and Safae which hit me up with some dope music from time to time) I mostly get inspiration from (sad to say but its true) tik tok or by randomly shazaming the world. I also really hate to limit myslfe to music i understand. On the contrary I LOVE LOVE LOVE music arround the world. Trust me i hear Tibetian Throat Singing to Russian Electro and even Islandic and Nativ American Tribal Music. To give you an impression of how important music consumption is for me:

Last Year i spent a total of 210 441 minutes on spotify alone. That is about 9 Hours a day. The average person uses Spotify for about 18 000 minutes a year. (My friend took the freedom to calculate how much money Spotify "looses" by my consumption. i pay $30 a year an Spotify gives $0,004891 per stream to the creator. An average of 3 minutes per song (70.000 streams) means spotify pays $342.37 to the creators. Thats $312.37 of deficit LOL)

Apart form that i cant really give Spotify a certain schedule when i listen to it cuz i listen to it all the time. During gaming, during coding, laundry, gym, work, class, before sleep. ✨Always✨

2. 💬 WhatsApp 💬

There is nothing better than sleeping for an eternity while everyone is already awake for probably 4 or more hours, working! *laughs in privileged design student* Since everyone is already living its live while I still drool, I gotta get up to date in the morning. Before i even leave bed, i checke my messages there. Similar to Spotify, I use WhatsApp the whole day and can't really tell when I would not use it. Except, my phone is always on silent (casual zennial phone call phobia) meaning i wont notice anything while zoning out or gaming (which usualy is the same).

3. 👨‍🏫 TEAMS 👩‍🏫

Yeah Yeah i can already hear it. "You wake up 5 minutes before class withouth breakfast or anything..." - bla bla bla. Yeah that is the case! I would usuly go on teams and enter the classroom, while preparing a breakfast (if you can call it breakfast after 12) sit down at my desk and listen to class. Causally everything that is too theoretical with music and whatsapp. Other classes that are interesting I`ll put my full attention to it.

But i hate teams in gerneral. Not cuz its sh**, no, usualy people that do their clases there have a weird way of using it. Finding material or looking up homeworks is such a struggle sometimes. (Props to you Kevin here, I have never seen anybody using teams in such a clean and struktured way than you do. Even tho you dont neccesarily use it as it was meant to be. (which might be the turning point on why its great))

4. 📺 YouTube 📺

Yup YouTube is usually the place to go after (sometimes during (I NEVER SAID THAT!)) class.

Actually, YouTube is the place to go for me. Relaxation, Entertainment, knowledge - anything! After class I'd usually watch "Cut" or other channels that produce let's plays or entertainment of some sort.

But it's also THE place to go during coding. I rather listen to Lofi or (Slowed, Reverbed) Music that doesnt really distract me. ALSO, during coding watch A SH*TLOAD OF TUTORIALS, cuz I am proud selftaught Zennial. #BestOfBothWorlds

5. 👨‍🍳 CHEFKOCH 👨‍🍳

I love to try new things and I constantly stalk the web for new recipes. Lately a lot of Asian and Vegan stuff. Chefkoch is the app to go where i also write down my own recipes to have them with me all the time. Great thing here is, i share this account with all my family members (currently 13, including my mom, aunts, other relatives). Great way to share the secret family recipes at any time!

(Cant recommend the recipe in the img, tho!)

6.🏐 ADDIDAS TRAINING🏐

Unlike all my sporty friends that used to hit the gym before covid and not got lazy, I started to use Training Apps like Addidas Training with its free Workout plans. I use it regularly and am happy i finally found a way to stay sporty.

7. ⌨️ VS CODE ⌨️

Its either Visual Studio Code, where I would code on my current project, or gaming. As mentioned above, I would get most of the inspiration from tutorials or using dev tools on different platforms.

8. 🎤 DISCORD 🎮

I´ll use Discord as a general term for Gaming since I play a lot but many different games, tho, always use discord to communicate with my freinds while gaming.

A great place to share random BS with friends and talk about anything that comes to my mind. I spent most of the evenings on Discord with my friends. Always did, in fact. Maybe the reason why I don't really feel so affected by the pandemic. I am used to being separated from my friends since they live all over Germany or the world in general. I always enjoy Online Live Events WITH my friends.

For me the web as always been a "with" not an "alone", which is why I never understand why so may struggle with feeling "alone" on live events online. JUST GRAB A FRIEND AND DISCOVER IT ✨TOGETHER✨!

9. 📼 DISNEY+ / NETFLIX 📼

Since I use both the same amount there is not thos or that. I never Really let anybody recommend me anything, cuz ... trust me, I WON'T watch it. IDK why that is, but I need a specific mood for each show. And nobody but myself can provide that. Probably why most ove the algorithms (esp Netflix) do not have an effect on me. I'm not in the mood for your ****, sorry!

Never the less, i periodically Binge a Series and then feel empty after it ended. Then i need some time to face reality again.

Funny tho, I binged Starwars Rebels on Disney+ and after it ended i just decide to buy 4 books on amazon that expand the story to starwars (#nerd i know). I will spend the next few months reading and probably not watching anything on both Streaming services.

10. 🤤 TIKTOK 🌈

... YUP.... I grew up with vine ... but TikTok got me. And honestly I don't regret it. It's the perfect algorithm that constantly finds the best videos that feed my thirsty queer ass. I mean ...

LOOK AT THE IMG ABOVE. YES, give me more....!

Its prolly not good for my digital wellbeing or my mental health but do I care at the moment..? noooooo...

Just give me more of Starwars Parodies, Sleepwalkers, Best off's of streamers, Queer content (cuz its time this heteronormativity world is fed with it! and no i do not indentify as anyting, im just the + at the very far end!) and yeah, even some sexy content if the creator feels good about it.

AND DONT YOU GIVE ME THAT SIDE EYE OF JUDGEMENT HERE - WE ALL THIRST FROM TIME TO TIME!

TOODLES!

[achaoticeternal]

A Dance. A Chase. A Purpose.

RANSOM DRYSDALE X READER masterlist  //  taglist

request from anon: 35. "sit your ass back down and talk to me" with Ransom Thrombey pretty please??😍

Summary: Ransom never has been one to chase a gall, but you’ve always been different. Word Count: 3.4k A/N: This is a reader and Ransom at a very formal gala. The Thrombey’s and Drysdale’s are “high class” people, they attend these kinds of things but I haven’t seen anyone write something like this! I hope you guys really enjoy it! This is also a lot of dialogue... whoops Warnings: Light swearing, people flirting with the reader, Ransom being an asshole but not a complete asshole

ANOTHER REAL QUICK NOTE: I WROTE ABOUT RANSOM IN A MAROON VELVET SUITE BEFORE THE GOLDEN GLOBES HAPPENED AND CHRIS JUST HAPPENED TO WEAR THAT EXACT OUTFIT TO THE GOLDEN GLOBES AND ALL I’M SAYING IS THAT THE UNIVERSE CAME THROUGH

His blue eyes continuously stalked you throughout the hours you attended the Gala. It wasn’t his scene and yet he adored the thought of ruining your perfect evening just with his presence. 

“Who put Ransom on the guest list?” You hissed at one of the event coordinators, “Don’t you remember what he did at the art show I hosted last year?”

“I’m terribly sorry Miss, but he’s the plus one for Mr. Thrombey,” the hesitant man replied, looking awfully terrified.

You took multiple deep breathes to soothe yourself and stop yourself from becoming flustered. Ransom has this awful hold on you that everyone could not, and you could absolutely not stand. He knew just how to stir you, be that good or bad, and absolutely ruin what should be paradise. He truly was the devil in a maroon velvet suit that was perfectly tailored to him.

“Yes, of course. I’m sorry for flashing, thank you for all your assistance tonight,” You smiled kindly to the man before scurrying off to find something to occupy yourself before Ransom had a chance. 

Tonight, all you wanted to do was raise funds to assist the homeless shelters in major U.S cities and inspire a few billionaires and millionaires to hand over a hefty check. But you had to play a little game to get money from the elite class. You made your way all around the ballroom in the designer gown; it was black and floor-length, layer upon layer of fine black lace. Across the skirt was intricate gold stars sewn into the material as an illusion collar and mesh sleeves complimented your top. Your appearance mixed with your charm could allure both men and women into acquiring whatever you desired. You knew that inevitably somehow you would run into Ransom since Harlan was a huge donor to your foundation. 

“Oh, (Y/N),” It seemed you’d be seeing him sooner than you thought as Mr. Thrombey waved you over. Gracefully, you turned to see him and other authors you’d invited enjoying their wine and making various comments about the younger people attending the gala. Harlan motioned at an empty seat, “my dear.”

“Alright, but I can’t stay long. Apparently, I’m the only one left with their head screw on right this evening,” You smiled as the older group chuckled.

“You’ve always been a prize, (Y/N). Standing out in school, in your community, and now your foundation. Your grandparents would be proud,” Margret, a theatre critic, complimented you.

Her words were almost reassuring. Your grandparents had left their company and their estate to you, their only granddaughter. The rest of the family received their fair cut of shares and money, but your grandparents believed that you had the best potential in ruining their media empire. 

But you felt all joy leave your body as a large pair of hands rested themselves upon your shoulder, squeezing them just tight enough to create a numbing sensation, “Yes, and she also always was quite the star in high school and even university. Our professor often gawked at how well-knowledged she is, and even her charm.”

You rested your right hand on top of Ransom’s, peeling it off and letting it drop to his side, “Well, Ransom, it’s wonderful for you to join us at the Charity Gala tonight. I hope everything is just as proper and tasteful to your liking.”

“Well, it’s a nice little set-up you have, but I’ve always been a man to enjoy a good party with plenty to drink and-”

“Hugh,” Mr. Thrombey warned his grandson.

Ransom gave her grandfather a childish glare before sighing, “But it’s still just so lovely, (Y/N).”

“This has just been so grand,” You stood and brushed out any wrinkles in the skirt of your dress, “but I must go meet with the city’s mayor to talk about the proceeds from this evening before they reach a politician's hands. Please feel free to check out our silent auction tables, there are some wonderful prizes to be won. And once we announce the winners, we will have a large auction while dinner is served in the banquet hall at 8.”

With pep in your step, you quickly made your own way to the banquet hall to make sure everything was going swimmingly.

        ��                                                 -   -   -

“Yes, and up there on the platform, the seats will go the mayor’s wife, the mayor, the governor, myself, the senator, his wife, and then his son,” you pointed down the long table. Then you turned to look out over a sea of tables, chairs, and name cards, “And the menu is set for this evening?”

“Yes, ma’am. Everything is under control, tidy, and might I say, luxurious, thanks to you,” your proceeds manager, Pierce, complimented you.

“You’re too kind,” you slapped his arm lightly, “now, guests my enter around 7:30 or whenever the staff finishes setting our the glasses and rolls.”

“Oh, (Y/N),” you heard your name called by a silver tongue serpent who managed to sneak into the banquet hall early. As he sauntered over to you, Pierce noticed how to seemed to deflate slightly in the man’s presence.

“Miss, I’m so sorry, I’ll go tell security too-”

“It’s fine, Pierce. Hugh is an... acquaintance that I’ve known for years.”

“That’s a strange way of putting childhood enemy,” Ransom teased as he took a sip out of his champagne glass, “or childhood crush depends on how you view it.”

“Yes, yes, how could I forget. Pierce,” you gave him a look to dismiss him as you turned to look pointedly at Ransom, “what are you doing here now? The schedule is clear and I don’t understand why you can’t just fo-”

“You know schedules and timetables aren’t my forte, honey,” he cut you off, which he knew made your blood boil, “but I wanted to address a little rumor I heard? Apparently, at the banquet auction- you are going to be a prize.”

“I’m not a prize, I’m a respected woman,” you sneered, “and my marketing and social managers decided it would help the cause if we auctioned off a dance with one of the most powerful and eligible bachelorette's in New York.”

“Well then,” His eyes scanned across your face but going lower. You snapped your fingers in front of his face to snap him out of whatever the hell he was trying to do, “I guess I’ll be able to show you what a fantastic dancer I am tonight when I win.”

“In your dreams, Ransom,” You said with a smile as you heard the doors open and a crowd begin the flutter in, “Now please if you would so kindly take your seat able table 6.”

                                                         -   -   -

“Thank you so much for attending tonight’s charity gala,” You smiled warmly as you spoke into the microphone. Much applause followed, “This evening’s event couldn’t have happened without help from so many people within the community and all of you here tonight. I have a lot of people to thank tonight, but first I would like to thank the wonderful orchestra for providing such wonderful music.”

You gestured to the group seated on the right side of the banquet hall as they took their bows. You allowed for the chatter to calm before continuing your speech to thank the hotel and its’ management, the catering, your parents and siblings, your personal assistant, “and lastly I have three very important men and their families in attendance tonight. The Mayor of New York City, The Governor, and even Senator Holstead.” Each of the men stood, waved to the crowd, and were applauded, “And now, I would like to invite the Senator’s eldest son, MR. Wyatt Holstead to join me in announcing the winner’s for tonight’s silent auction and then we will proceed to bidding on specialty items.”

“Thank you so much, Ms. (Y/L/N). Isn’t she just fantastic?” Wyatt smiled at the audience as he made his way up to you with his own mic. He stood next to you and took your hand, “It is an absolute honor to be assisting you tonight and a help you raise funds to solve homelessness in this beautiful city, once and for all. But being in your striking beauty might be the cherry on top.”

You giggled as he raised your hand to his lips and kiss your knuckles softly. However, you could feel the tension across to the room as you made eye contact with Ransom, who was clapping with a less than excited look upon his face, “Why thank you. Now, Wyatt will be drawing and announcing the names of the winners while I present you will the item of auction. So- let’s begin.”

You forgot about Ransom and his predatory gaze as you awarded baskets and various items to strangers and friends that won them. The flashes of cameras and shaking of hands stirred your brain until Wyatt ended the silent auction.

“Congratulations to the winners! Checks can be dropped off this evening or mailed to the donation center within the next three days. But now, we move onto our live auction where we have some stellar items and events up for sale tonight!”

“You’re right, Wyatt. This first item up to bid tonight is a trip to the beaches of Italy on an all-expenses-paid vacation! Let’s start the bidding at $500, shall we?”

Immediately, hands and ladies’ fans flew up in the air. It was amazing how fast items were going and how quickly the evening was flying by.

“Going twice... Sold! The fountain pen collection goes to Mrs. Margret Dunwoody!” Wyatt called. There was applause as she grabbed her prize, “And now, for the final auction before any real partying or dancing begins, we have a real treat. One lucky person will be able to share the first dance and be treated to breakfast with our own, Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N)! Now, this is quite the prize so let’s start the bidding at... two thousand?”

The hands’ of New York’s finest bachelors and bachelorettes shot up high.

‘$2,500″

“$3,500″

“$4,000!”

“$5,000!”

“$25,000,” One loud voice called from the center of the room. Ransom had stood, a smirk plastered to his face as his blue eyes met your own.

“$30,0-” Another man tried to yell out.

“$50,000,” Ransom called on top of him, “Anyone else?”

“Well then,” Wyatt said, looking to you and winking, “$60,000.”

“$75,000,” Ransom called back with ease. 

“$85,000,” Wyatt retorted.

 You began to become nervous. It would be awkward to watch Ransom’s and Wyatt’s little showdown, but you were the prize which made the experience only that much unsettling, “Boys, boys, you’re both pretty.”

“Going once...” You looked at Ransom only to be pondering something, “Going twice...” you started to pray that anyone else would bid, Wyatt was still in college and you didn’t need your record destroyed by a horny boy...

“$150,000!”

The banquet hall went completely silent, no one said a thing. You could here pen drop in the room with how deafening it was.

“Sold to Mr. Ransom Drysdale!” The Mayor called out from his seat, sensing the tension, “Now if Mr. Drysdale will make his way up to the platform to escort his prize to the dance floor.”

Ransom held a bit of swagger in his stride as he approached you. The shock was still evident in your stature as you tried to smile. People applauded and the band began to play again.

“My dear,” Ransom held his hand out for you, making sure to make this look a publicly decent as he could. You took his hand and he leads you down the stairs of the platform. Once you were on his level, he placed a hand upon your lower back and guided you towards the dance floor.

The band began to play a slow number that had the slightest touch of an upbeat. Ransom was surprisingly a great dance partner and easily guided you around the floor which captured the eyes of all in the banquet hall.

“You know, you’re not half bad at dancing,” you attempted to compliment him.

“I guess private school pays off a bit, but I’d still prefer dancing under your sheets,” he said in a sultry tone into your ear.

“Dammit, Ransom. I’m trying to enjoy my evening because you’ll be there to ruin my morning,” he spun you twice before pulling you into his chest again, “why did you even place a bid? You hate donating to charity, unless by force, and you know I can’t stand you.”

“Well, you know I love getting under your skin and I think the other bidder doesn’t have the same experience as I do,” He beamed, “in any category.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“But you can’t help but love me,” his lips dragged across your cheek.

The music faded out and a DJ began playing today’s hits. With all the formalities taken care of, this was no longer was your scene, “Well, good night, Ransom. I’ll see you in the morning and you can tell me about whatever girl you hooked up with, in the morning.”

With that, you escaped up to your suite in the hotel, hoping not to interact with anyone for the rest of the evening.

                                                        -   -   -

It was a few hours later now and you were still wide awake, relaxing in the living area of your suite as Brooklyn Nine-Nine played on the television. You had already showered and your hair was almost finished air drying, but you still wore the hotel robe. It was peaceful and allowed you to digest the events from the evening. But a knock on the door alerted you of an unexpected guest.

“Who is it?”

“Room service, ma’am,” You opened the door to reveal a young man with a cart, “Gifts from the hotel managers and a special man who wanted to thank you for this evening.”

“Oh well, thank you, just cart it in wherever you like,” You nodded and let him through. He quickly took care of his job before exiting, “good night.”

You grabbed the first card on the cart, a little formal thank you note from the hotel for a smooth event and the wonderful publicity. There was a second one with no name, but you figured it was one of the politicians you invited this evening.

You looked like the night sky, but you shined brighter than any star.

Shaking your head, you let out a small giggle at the little note like you were a school girl again. Even if there was a bump or two in the evening, it all still went practically perfect. But a second knock came from the door.

“If it’s another cart, I’m afraid I’m out of room in here,” You teased, only to open the door to reveal Ransom. 

“Well, were the flowers not enough? I didn’t know my prize would still be so hard to please, even after I swept her off her feet on the dance floor.” Here he was, smirk and all. Instead of his usual behavior of prowling a dance floor for a girl to satisfy him for the night, he was here, satisfying his need to tease you.

“Ransom, I-uh... Shouldn’t you be downstairs?” You pulled the robe close to your body like it could shield you from anything he could say or do to you.

“Well, my date left me on the floor-”

“I’m sorry to hear that, but it’s late, and I’m not a prize to be won, and you-”

“(Y/N),” He looked you in the eyes with his own blue ones that could make any woman melt and suddenly you understood why he came upstairs, “Can I come in, please?”

“I- maybe not tonight...”

“Please”

You took a deep breath before opening the door to allow him in, “Okay, but I do plan to go to bed before long.”

He walked in and immediately got a beer out of the hotel fridge before taking a seat on the couch. You grabbed yourself a bottle of water before joining him on the couch.

“So, were you trying to get away from your grandfather? or an ex?”

“No, I figured it was time we talk. And I mean actually talk. Not argue or bicker like we do in front of everyone else.”

“I don’t remember a time where we didn’t, so...”

“Maybe because you never give me the chance to talk-”

“Well, maybe that’s because every time I’ve tried to open up to you or trust you, you just cut me off...”

“Maybe that’s because you keep trying to meddle in my life like my family does!”

“I’m not doing this tonight! Not after everything I accomplished, I’ll see you in the morning,” you pushed yourself off the couch and attempted to make your way into the bedroom.

“No, (Y/N), I-” He let out a sigh and shook his head, “sit your ass back down and talk to me.”

“There’s nothing to talk about, Ransom!”

“There is everything to talk about”

IT hit you like a brick. He wanted to talk it out because after all this time he still wanted you. He wanted back sneaking into each other’s dorms. Pretending to hate each other, but sneaking kisses behind friends and family. You were the only person to ever deny him from what he needed. You were the girl to leave him on the floor. The same way you had left him on the floor homecoming your junior year, semi-formal your senior year of college, and various club outings. And now tonight in front of the public. You had always been the only girl to leave him alone and the only girl to walk out on him first. And after all this time, he still chased after you, because you were consistent.

 “Dammit, (Y/N). Why do you act like this? We have history, but you insist on acting like it never happened or that it was all bad.”

“Ransom, you know why we both called it all off...”

“Because you were inheriting a large media network? You could risk doing ONE thing that your mother didn’t approve of. I know why, but I’ll never understand-”

“Because you made me reckless and I couldn’t let my life slip through my fingers while I lived a perfectly pleasurable life off of daddy’s money. I need purpose and you never gave me one.”

“But you gave me purpose. And tonight, you looked like a night sky, shining bright with a thousand stars and reminded me of those nights where we laid under the starry sky and you let me spoil you. You helped me deal with the abomination that is my family, you were helping me learn to be a better person.” He took your hands into his own large ones and rested his forehead against yours, “I was going to propose and we were going to find a purpose together.”

“Fuck, Ransom,” The tears slid down your cheeks, but he caught them with his thumbs, “Why do we have to do this now? I was just starting to truly move on. Why can’t you let the idea of us go?”

“Because it’s the only good idea I’ve ever had. Please, (Y/N), I love you.”

Your breath got caught in your throat. In all the time that Ransom and you had spent together - teasing each other or flirting or otherwise - he had never said that he loved you. You never even heard him tell his parents he loved them. He truly wanted you.

“I- We... We can try again. But it’ll be slow and it will take time to heal what we burned, but if you’re willing than I am too.”

“That’s all I need to hear,” he whispered before pressing his lips against yours. 

                                                       -   -   -

The next afternoon, images of you and Ransom having brunch and holding hands while wandering around New York were splattered across media and magazine sites alike. People and reporters asked about the charity event the night before, what this relationship meant for your company, and even asking if you both were finally coming public with your relationship after months of hiding it.

A young reporter caught Ransom and asked it you satisfied his desires, targeting Ransom’s playboy bachelor status.

“I think you should be asking (Y/N) how much she raised for the homeless and those living off in a single evening instead of objectifying her. She’s the most powerful and influential woman in the nation and desrves more respect than that. Go report her record-breaking funding to your Editor, instead of a dumbass’s opinion on if she makes a good shag or not, sweetie.”

Once you made it into his car and made your way to Boston, you turned to him, “Thank you, for everything you said.”

“Of course, it was all honest and true. But I was never gonna tell them how wonderful you feel beneath me.”

“Ransom-”

“Oh c’mon, you love me”

[gyllenhaalstories]

imagine taking rapper jake home to meet your parents.

i’m so sorry for the delay, anon! <3 buckle up, it got long and i’m emo!!!!! lil jakey jakes meeting your parents was not something i thought i’d cry about right now but here i am. i listened to nothing’s gonna hurt you baby by cigarettes after sex if you want to vibe with me!

<3

jake swore he was about to shit his pants when you reminded him of the dinner with your parents.

he ran all over his house, searching for nothing and everything at oncel. one second it was his tie, the next his phone and after that his keys. he was just so terrified. he wanted to leave a good impression.

he dressed up like he was going to the oscars. he put on a suit, a new one he got tailored to his body just for the occasion. he covered all of his tattoos, with those long sleeves. he hid his chain under the color of the shirt you buttoned lovingly. he went to the barbershop too, he got a fresh cut and his beard neat. he looked like a movie star and even if this was not the man with whom you fell in love, you still loved this new persona.

“you’re so stressed that i’m stressed” you’d scream at him while he paced around the bedroom as you put on a simple outfit, some jeans and a button up shirt too. dresses felt too formal. it was your parents, not the pope. “we’re not going. i’m calling them and i’ll say i’m sick”.

jake stopped moving and protested. “if i wanna ask your father for your hand, i better know how he looks like first. if he likes golf, i’m out”.

the joke was unexpected, but it made both of you laugh. he kept bringing up marriage. it was like a running gag, but it felt more and more real. one day you would be called mrs gyllenhaal. and this day would not happen if you died from a heart attack because you couldn’t face the judgement of your parents.

so jake waited for you in the car. he picked a black jaguar, he didn’t want to be too obnoxious. he had the head lights shining bright and blinked them so you pretended to walk like a model and twirl in front of the car before you sat on the passenger seat. “so fuckin’ gorgeous.” jake said and noticed you, too, wore the chain he got you for your birthday. he stretched his arm out to play with it lightly and then proceeded to drive to your parents’ house.

he stopped in the drive way. it was a tiny home, very old with a bunch of flower pots that were wrapped up for the winter. it was lovely already. jake stopped the car and took deep breaths.

“you sound like you’re about to get into labor”

“it’s a neat trick you’ll have to try it”

and you both breathed fast like two freaks in the car while the music was playing in the background. some U2 song. it calmed the two of you down. when you got out of the car, jake immediately grabbed your hand. he needed the comfort.

you were about to ring the door bell when your mother slammed the door open and wrapped you in a tight hug.

jake smiled and looked behind her. he waved at your father.

“mom, dad, this is my boyfriend, jake. jake, this is my mom and dad.”

“hi mom, hi dad” jake replied and it made the two of them laugh.

jake wanted to bring champagne and flowers, but you convinced him to not do too much. your parents were simple people. they would be happy as long as jake didn’t tease you from under the table (the jeans were definitely a good option) or mentioned politics. 

“our daughter has told us a lot about you” your mother said “yeah, we heard you are a singer? isn’t that the dream” your father added

“yeah.” jake smiled awkwardly and took a sip from the glass of water you both shared. you were sitting on his lap, on the love seat of the small living room. your parents asked him tons of questions. he answered them genuinely. he asked them questions too. he was relieved to find out your father preferred hockey to golf.

you sat around the table. it was weird that the fourth chair of the dining table was finally used.

none of your previous relationships lasted long enough to reach this level of intimacy. sex was one thing, but meeting your parents? that was a HUGE deal.

jake behaved like the best man in the world. he complimented the food. it was just simple spaghetti and storebought garlic bread. but it tasted like love and home. he asked for two other plates. your mom even reached to wipe his chin from the tomato sauce.

it filled him with joy. he had a tough relationship with his own family and he felt like he fit right in with yours.

you watched jake with heart eyes. he was so happy to explain his art and craft to your father who kept asking him if he had met blake shelton or the backstreet boys. you know, hip people. jake laughed and shook his head. he didn’t bother explaining that he sang about filthy things the two of you did. he was happy they considered his job as valid. he was not a carpenter or a doctor. but he was happy to spoil you nonetheless.

“you’re doing great” you’d whisper to jake.

everything was fine. until your mom pulled out the baby photos albums. THE SHAME.

“look at that tiny baby booty!” jake pointed and melted. “toohtless! that gums only look, can’t wait to see it again when we’re old and grumpy.” he pulled out a photo. you were wearing matching ugly yellow zipped hoodie and plaid pants. you were holding a teddy bear of the same colour as the one he got you for your birthday. behind the photography it was written happy y/n at the park with her best friend. he asked if he could keep it. your parents agreed. (it was his phone home screen from now on, your lock screen being a post sex glow photo when he could see a tiny drop of cum at the corner of your eye, it was still cute to him). “so she’s always been bad at cooking?” he said and laughed when you found a picture of you and your grandparents where you held a plate of burnt cookies. “hey, not cool! i was only seven!” you pushed him gently. “look at you now, you burn bread in the toaster”. your parents were the ones who melted now.

“so, jacob...”

jake insisted that it was fine your father called him by his full name.

the two of you were so stressed out. the tone of your father’s voice was suddenly heavy and scary.

“yeah?”

“does it hurt to get tattoos?”

jake squinted and you coughed loud enough to cover the whispered what the fuck that came out of his open mouth. his sleeves were rolled up and exposing the ink. “i mean, yeah, it hurts a lot. it’s worth it though. i feel like an art collector.”

“in my young days, i’ve always wanted a tattoo. i got the concept. this lovely lady as a pin up girl, quite impressive, huh?.” he winked at your mom who blushed while you tried everything you could not to throw up.

jake rolled his sleeve a little higher and pointed at a spot near the veins of the inside of his arm, close to the elbow. he got the outline of a heart tattooed. you noticed how wobbly the lines were, that’s because it was the heart you always drew at the end of your notes that you left him when you were gone or when he was out working. “that’s my favourite.”

THE WAY YOU JUST BURST INTO TEARS and your mom shouted “time for dessert!”

great timing.

“our daughter told us you loved m&m’s”.

jake turned to look at you. you shrugged.

your mother came back with chocolate cake on which she had sprinked crushed m&m pieces on the frosting.

jake asked to get the biggest slice. “that’s the best fuckin’ cake i’ve had in my whole life.” (which was a lie because the best cake was your ass but details) he said, his mouth full. your mother laughed and your father agreed. they began talking about hockey when your mother asked for your help in the kitchen.

“if we learned anything from you,” she started and handed you a plate to dry. you hated to do the dishes, especially if you were to be lectured like a child. “it’s to never judge people by their covers. we love jake. he’s good to you. you’re good to him.”

you hugged your mom and the two of you cried so loudly that jake dropped his spoon. he thought something bad happened. that you cut yourself with the butter knife or something.

“welcome to the family, jake.” your father squeezed jake’s shoulder as you walked back to him to press a kiss on his cheek.

it was now time to leave, after hours and hours of anecdotes from your childhood or from the time you were convinced you’d marry brad pitt or when you put eyeshadow in your hair to act like you dyed them to be punk but it was raining that day and you came back looking like a sad frosty rainbow.

“you’re my favourite person.” jake told you when he gave you his vest as a coat. it was chilly outside.

you all hugged and shook hands, promising to come back soon for brunch. jake told them he’d make his famous pancakes.

“hold on!” jake exclaimed and pulled you by the arm. you followed him back in the kitchen and he fed you a spoon of the cake. you fed him one in return again. “tastes almost as good as your pussy” he whispered in your ear and kissed your chocolate covered lips.

you finally left the house, waving from the car at your parents who stood on the porch. they seemed satisfied. and you? you had never been more in love.

“can’t wait to rip those tight jeans off your body and fuck you like a bitch.” jake winked and started to drive away. “i’m looking forward to the toothless viagra boosted blowjobs too, that’s gonna feel divine.” 

you slapped his thigh and he moaned in pain. you rested your hand there and he brought it to his lips, planting a soft kiss.

“welcome to the family.” you repeated.

[dreaming-of-assclass]

Hi!! ✨ anon here!! Sorry I've been gone for a while cuz my online classes just started last week!! How are you?? Oh and Gakushuu for the this and that thing :))

Hello darling!! I was just thinking about you omg! I hope your classes are going well! I’m doing good haha, trying to make the most of the last couple weeks I have before my school starts ;-; Good luck with everything and please stay safe!! 💜💜

Night!! Gakushuu much prefers the evening and night time when his activities come to a lull, he goes home and does homework, and the principal isn’t there HAHA. It’s equivalent to down time for him.

Sun! He will always prefer the sun and warm weather over anything else. Rain puts a halt to things he needs to do. Karma calls him a cold-blooded lizard that needs the heat of the sun.

Summer. He gets to travel places since ahem he has the money to go anywhere. And he just likes summer vibes, the weather, taking nice photos...he’ll never admit this of course.

Aesthetic 100%. The boy is very fashionable and cares a lot about how he looks. He’s not vain, but he tries to look as presentable as he can. But, he’s also rich and tends to wear designer clothes anywhere lmaooo. So not very functional.

Neither. Gakushuu doesn’t really care for either of those, but star-gazing. He gets to show off his smarts and point out facts about constellations and such.

Hand-holding. He doesn’t care for PDA, and he’s also not used to affection at all...so this is simple and subtle enough for his liking.

Late nights. They’re reserved for studying and it’s very quiet in his room. He just sits at his desk in front of his window, enjoying the sounds of the night as he concentrates. Gakushuu is not a morning person btw.

Music!! Well it depends. He really likes music in general, since he’s you know, a musician lmao. But he needs silence to focus on work and such.

Cities 100%. He enjoys the bustle of them, easily getting places, and is more comfortable navigating. It fits his vibe. Nature is annoying, gross, etc. And it’s totally not because of the fact that his dad used to take him to the mountain when he was little...before Ikeda...

Coffee. He drinks WAY TOO MUCH of it. And it’s always straight up black, no creamer or sugar. His bloodstream is more coffee than anything else.

Spicy, just because he hates sweets. It tastes so gross to him.

Netflix~ I mean, he has his own account and everything but he never watches on it. Instead, his friends (Not the Big 5) use his subscription to watch whatever they want. And Gakushuu doesn’t mind at all.

Ice cream cone? Again, he really doesn’t like sweets at all. But if he has to eat it, like invited by someone or smth, he would prefer top-notch ice cream. Like Godiva.

In-Person shopping. He takes fashion very seriously, and would like to see everything in person, try it on, get it tailored, etc.

Drama...but only if it’s the mature type. He really likes intellectually compelling shows, like House MD. Or just shows that catch his interest and aren’t super annoying, like Breaking Bad maybe? That’s a mature drama basically.

Pull-overs!! Hoodies are too casual and he’ll really only wear them in certain weather or at someone’s house. He makes pull-overs look really good and stylish.

Cinema!! It’s a better viewing experience with the visuals and sound. And he’s not bringing anyone to HIS house for a movie experience lmaoooo. The Asano household is not suitable for that.

Dine out!! He’s a classy boy who loves high-class restaurants, and he lowkey eats at them more often than his own house sometimes. He of course goes with his minions friends...or family occasionally...

[howtodisassembleyourdeviant]

Missing Home

I’m re-posting in hopes to fix the format issue I have with the last one. 

Connor missed you. There was no easy way to put it. He wanted to hold you in his arms, hear your voice, taste your lips. He wanted you to explain some of the jokes the other human detectives told. Hank finds the constant barrage of questions exhausting, but you never tired. A new exhibit had opened up at the zoo, featuring mythical animals. He wanted to see it with you. 

But you weren't here.

"I have to go. I match what they're looking for and it's their best lead." 

You both were sitting in the meeting room, an hour after you had been asked to go undercover in another precinct for a human/android trafficking ring. You would be working at a seedy strip club, as a bartender. Everything about this was terrible to Connor. Putting your life in peril while lecherous men tried to touch you? If he had any say, he would adamantly reject the idea, but... It was your choice. It tore him apart, wanting to support and protect, conflicting with each other. 

You kept trying to reassure him, that you had back-up, that your outfit had a tracker in it, that you would not be stripping. Then one of the officers you would be working with handed you your uniform, a skimpy two-piece that only covered the essentials, then had the audacity to check you out, a wolfish grin on his face. Rage threatened to boil over. Noticing, you grabbed Connor's tie, reeling him in and kissing him hard. The officer's smile fell, and he quickly exited. You pulled back, smiling up at the android, bringing your hand up to his face and stroking his cheek with your thumb.

"I don't want you to think I want to do this. According to their data, the ring is getting bigger. It needs to be shut down." He knew you were right, that innocent lives were at stake, but that doesn't mean he has to like it. "I have to leave for debriefing tomorrow, but why don't we have some fun tonight? We can do whatever you like." You ran your hands up his stomach and over his chest, resting them on his shoulders under his jacket. His eyes fluttered, and for a second, he forgot everything. You were... And he was... 

You took hold of his tie again, pulling him to follow.

"Let's go, lover boy."

..............

That was over three weeks ago. They had spent the whole night tangled together, relishing in the closeness. All too soon, you had to pack up and leave. You kissed him one last time, told him you love him, promised to be careful, and then you were gone. 

To protect your cover, he wasn't allowed to contact you, only receiving updates through the department. Apparently, you were fine and they were getting a lot of Intel. It should only be a matter of time before they have enough evidence to raid the location. He hopes so. You'll be free to come home then. 

 To think, at this very moment, some drunken idiot could be hassling you, trying to grab you. You were capable of course, but how much could you do without blowing your cover? It burned him up to think you might have to 'tolerate' any of it, for the good of the mission. 

He was walking home after another shift. Without any outstanding investigations, he wasn't allowed to stay after anymore. Apparently, not everyone appreciated his help, though he doesn't understand why. He only pointed out details they were missing or errors in their assessment. He wasn't rude about it, just factual. Hank gets tired of it too, though he has far more patience with him. He knows Connor isn't doing it to show him up, it's just how he was programmed. Deviancy can't fix everything.

The car has been sitting in the driveway for weeks. He just doesn't see the point in rushing home. All he does is stare at his fish or at the tv. He tries going over casework, but it just all leads to him worrying about you. Were they treating you alright at the other precinct? Were you getting enough sleep? Eating properly? Dragging his feet, he looks to the ground. This city always seems filthier without you, trash and cigarette buds littering the walkway. 

This is ridiculous. He had a life before you. He had hobbies and did things... Didn't he? He put in a lot of hours at the department, that's for sure. He went home to Hank's house and took care of Sumo, listened to music and read some of Hank's old paperback novels. Everything seemed so dull then. It wasn't that he was unhappy, in fact, some of those days were the best of his life, but then you showed him he could be happier, that every day could be like the best day of his life, opening doors he didn't even know were there. He sighs, kicking an empty can. 

The epitome of scientific artificial intelligence can't be left alone for five minutes. 

A call flashes on his HUD, bringing his attention away from his self-pity. It was Markus.

"Hey, Connor. Are you free tonight?"

"Yes. Why?" Did they need some help at New Jericho? Or a meeting for the leaders? Maybe some legal advice?

"Wanna hang out?" 

...hang out? He didn't even consider that. It's been a while since the last time they met up that wasn't on professional terms. Between his work at the DPD and Markus being the ambassador for androids, free time hasn't exactly been on the table. Still, wasn't he just griping about not being able to be left on his own? Wouldn't this just solidify that? He must have taken too long to answer, as Markus reiterated.

"There's a bar downtown that is offering drinks tailored to androids. Simon believes it would be a good way to unwind." So, Simon is going? He has no issues with Simon, but it makes him wonder.

"Who all will be attending?"

"Just the leaders." 

Which means North will be there.

"I think I'll just stay at home." Markus knows his issues with the psychotic woman. Staring at fish for several hours sounds like the better option.

"North will be meeting up with a few of her friends."

"What about your image? You represent our people. It won't look good if someone were to see you acting intoxicated." Connor made it to the front of his house, sitting down on the porch steps. 

"The club is for androids only. The owner has already made arrangements for us. Everything will be fine."

"Android only? I thought we were against segregation." 

"Are you being difficult on purpose?"

"No." Maybe. He doesn't really feel like going out.

"Connor, I think you need this. You can't live your life working all the time. Come out with us. It'll be fun."

"I'll think about it."

"Great! We'll be there to pick you up in half an hour!"

Connor sighed, running his hand down his face. I guess he was going out tonight. He should probably feed the fish before he goes.

........

Markus showed up and eyed Connor's outfit.

"Do you own other outfits?" The RK800 was wearing his usual button-up and tie, though rather than his labeled blazer, he was wearing a brown jacket. 

"Is there a problem with my attire?" It seemed adequate, just a bit casual. He adjusted his tie, to which Markus took it and pulled it off. The leader knew of Connor's ticks, and he wasn't about to spend the whole night watching him play with his tie. Connor said nothing, though he pouted a little. You bought him that tie. Still, he left it off. When it came to fashion, it seems that Markus knew best. 

"I think we should go clothes shopping sometime. Are you ready?" Connor nodded, giving his friend a half-smile. 

In the car, Markus and Simon sat upfront while North, Josh, and Connor sat in the back. Josh was brave enough to be the barrier between North and Connor. She still hasn't forgiven him for hunting his own people, or Jericho, or pointing a gun at Markus on stage at Hart Plaza. Connor, on the other hand, does not understand her desire for senseless violence or her hatred for all humans. Some resentment was understandable, considering her background, but she takes it to the extreme.

"So, where's Y/n? I didn't see her inside. Is she at work?" Markus asked. He met you on several occasions, watching Connor light up when you were in the vicinity. This time, however, Connor's expression darkened.

"I don't know. She's working a case. I'm not allowed to know where." 

"I'm sorry to hear that, " Markus internally cringed. Not a good start to the night.

"Do you know when she'll be back?" Simon looked at Connor through the rearview mirror, seeing him cross his arms as he curled into himself.

"No."

"Well, hopefully soon."

"Way to go, killing the mood, Connor, " North smirked. It was apparent she didn't want him there any more than he did her.

"Nothing a few drinks can't fix. Let's just enjoy tonight, " Josh placated.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Connor knows how Hank struggles with his addiction. He has personally had to deal with some of the lieutenant's worst days, spewing insults one moment then adamantly apologizing for the next. With his help, Hank had cut down significantly, but he still occasionally has his bad days, like on anniversaries.

"From what I understand, it's perfectly safe. It's thirium-based with several chemicals that affect androids in a way similar to alcohol in humans. It all gets worked out through the filter, though if you drink too much, you need a way to remove the excess fluids." Simon explained.

In other words, unless an android planned on purging his system, they needed functioning genitalia. In this aspect, Connor was fortunate, as he was actually built with such a thing. It was the easiest way to remove evidence that he samples. It's all collected in his filter where it gets broken down in a specialized, biodegradable cleanser, and once a month he drains it and has to drink a bottle of said cleanser to replenish his system. When he started dating you, he upgraded so his component could have "other" functions.

It still sounded like a bad idea, but he didn't want to dampen the mood any more than he already has.

.........

The bar had reserved a private table for them in the back. North was quick to break off from the group, leaving the men to gather at the table. The music was pumping out deep bass, androids dancing together and having fun. Connor just felt out of his element. The owner, upon seeing them, sent over a round of blue liquid in shot glasses.

"Let's loosen you up!" Markus handed Connor one of the drinks, then held his shot glass up, prompting everyone else to do the same.

"To freedom!" He cheered.

"To freedom!" Simon and Josh agreed, downing their drinks. Connor hesitated. He dipped his tongue into his glass, wincing at the flavor. This seemed more like poison than a drink.

"Are you aware that some of the elements in this drink can be quite harmful to us if consumed in large quantities?" Connor asked, incredulous that they would be so willing to put that in their systems.

"Yes, but so is alcohol in humans." Markus set his glass down and a female android wearing a tight-fitting black dress took the glass and replaced it with a full one. "You don't have to, but you should try it. Live a little!"

Connor regarded the drink once more. Maybe he's being a bit over-cautious. He downed the drink, coughing as it burned down his throat. The table cheered again, patting Connor on the back. It seemed safe enough. His system didn't immediately try to purge it. He didn't feel any different either. When the next round of shots was set, he drank it down. Then, another. And another.

.........

"Have you ever met him? He's an asshole." Connor shook his head.

"But it was he who created the basis for all androids." Simon intervened.

"So, because he's the reason we exist, he's not an asshole?" The RK800 scoffed.

"According to ancient mythology, that should make him even more of an asshole," Josh added.

"What are you talking about?" Markus was walking back, or rather, stumbling back. Apparently, intoxicated Markus likes to dance.

"Kamski," Simon answered.

"Assholes." Connor and Josh answered at the same time. They all shared a laugh.

Connor drank down another shot. Was this his eighth or twelfth? He didn't know and, for the first time, he didn't care. He felt pretty good. Loose. Like his body was made of jello. He tried to join Markus on the dance floor, but when he went to stand, his gyroscope was malfunctioning and before he realized it, he was on the floor, joining in with his friends laughing as they attempted to help him back to his seat, dropping him twice and Josh fell down himself. Instead, they started talking about how much has changed in the last two years, what they hope to do in the future, and now, they were talking about when Kamski returned to Cyberlife. It might have been a good move for the company, but that didn't mean Connor trusted the man. Still, it was fun, just talking and joking.

 If only the other patrons at the bar would leave him alone with his friends. There must have been a dozen women who tried to get him to dance with them or buy them a drink. Even after he explained he was in a relationship, they didn't seem to care. One even sat on his lap, which he instinctively pushed her off. She did not appreciate that.

Despite it all, the atmosphere was light and jovial. Connor was glad he went out. This was significantly better than sitting and waiting. Maybe, when you get back, he'll invite you...

"Why can't humans come here?"

"Because most of them are assholes, " Simon joked, taking another shot.

"Not all of them." You weren't.

"Aww, does the detective miss his master?" North chided. She rejoined the table. She was with two other women, one of which he recognized as the woman he shoved to the ground.

"She's not my master, she's my lover, and she's far better company than you or your friends, " Connor sneered. The air did a sudden 180°, filled with hostility.

"Okay, let's calm down, " Markus tried to come between them, to keep the peace, but for North, peace was never an option.

"What? Too good for your own kind?" 

"Too good for this conversation, " Connor smirked, taking another shot. North, not the type to take being dismissed, knew exactly what to say to rile him up.

"I bet you think you mean something to your "lover". Your little human would fuck any android that asks. Probably what she's doing now."

That did it. Connor was on his feet in seconds, though he stumbled slightly as the world turned. 

"Listen here, you conniving bitch! You can talk shit about me all you want, but you leave her out of your goddamn mouth. Because you had a tough start to life, everyone else has to suffer? At least you didn't have a psychotic, murderous AI controlling all your actions, though, you two probably would have had a lot in common." Connor got in her face, next venomous words leaving his lips as a growl, "It's a shame you had to kill someone before the new laws. I would have loved seeing you carried to prison, kicking and screaming."

She punched him in the face. It threw him off balance and he fell back, catching himself on Josh. She stormed off before anything more could be said, her friends laughing. Connor got back to his feet, about ready to go after her when Markus took his shoulder.

"Why don't we call it a night?" 

.............

Connor sat in the passenger side of Markus' self-driving car, poking at his cheek. A ring she had been wearing had cut into the syn-skin, making it leak. It was already sealed and healing, but he was still pissed off. To avoid conflict, North caught a ride with one of her friends.

"I just don't understand her problem with humans. Not all of them used her for sex. Y/n definitely wouldn't! She loves me, not that sour... Tart. If she was there, she would have kicked North's ass!" He was ranting, and Markus had to keep himself from laughing.

"I know, Connor, I know."

"Who's that on your porch?" Simon asked. There was someone in a gray hoodie curled up on the front step. When Connor saw, he jumped out of the car before it stopped moving, falling to the ground. He quickly made it back to his feet while scrambling to get closer. The commotion awoke the person sleeping there, looking up to see what's going on. 

"Y/n!" Connor bowled into you, knocking you back onto the porch. "I've missed you!" He nuzzled against you, making no moves to get up.

"I've... I've missed you... God, you're heavy! I've missed you, too." Markus came up, trying to pull him off you, but Connor's iron clasp brought you up with him. He was still snuggling against you, swaying on his feet.

"Markus, what's going on?" You asked, noticing he wasn't exactly the portrait of perfection either, over-correcting his steps and laughing.

"Have you heard of the new drinks for androids?" Markus smiled. "It looks like you can handle it from here. See you later, Connor!"

"Wait, Markus! What..." But the man sped off to his car, tripping on the front bumper, and you were certain you heard laughter coming from inside. You stood, six feet of drunken android hanging off your shoulders.

"Do you have your keys?" You asked.

Connor pulled back, checking each pocket thoroughly. After a few minutes, he smiled in triumph, pulling out his keychain. You took it from him and unlocked the door.

"Well, this explains why you weren't answering my calls."

"You called me?" He was baffled. He tried to pull up his call log on his HUD, but it glitched out and closed on its own.

"Yep. At least ten times. I lost my keys. I knew you weren't at work, and Hank has his phone turned off again, so I couldn't ask for his copy. I figured you were at Jericho, so I'd just wait for you." Connor won't answer calls if he's in a meeting. He has a number for emergencies, but it's not like the two of you lived in a bad neighborhood, and it was a nice night, if not just a tad chilly.

"I'm sorry, " he sounded so sad, you made the mistake of turning and looking at him. Eyes doleful, wet with unshed tears, lips pouted. No human or android should be able to pull off the sad puppy look so well!

"It's fine! You should hang with your friends more!"

"I'm sorry."

"It was only ten minutes, tops." Actually, over an hour.

"I'm sorry." A tear escaped one of his eyes. 

"No! It's fine! Don't cry!" You pulled him into a hug, which he immediately sank in to. "Come on, let's get you to the couch." You more carried him to it, tripping on the end table in the dark. You finally got him down, breathing a sigh of relief. You went to walk away, but he grabbed your wrist.

"Where are you going? You just got home!"

"To turn on the lights and get a glass of water." You kissed his forehead, "I'm not going anywhere."

He reluctantly released your arm. Still pouting as he leaned back.

You went about turning on the lights.

"How did everything go?"

"Professionally? Very well. Personally? Worst time of my life." You came back, setting your drink on the counter. With the lights on, he had a clear view of your face. Your left eye was bruised, and you had a split lip. Your neck was also discolored, as if someone had tried to choke you.

"Who did this to you?" He cupped your cheek, trying to get a better view, but his damn vision kept swimming. Who would dare to hurt you? Death will be a blessing when he gets his hands on them.

"Connor, I'm fine. They're already behind bars anyway. Some guy was plastered and wouldn't take no for an answer."

"Where was your back-up?" You didn't answer him. They didn't want to 'risk the investigation' over something you should be able to handle. Just because they were right, doesn't make it right.  

"I don't want you going undercover again. I don't care how many lives are at stake!"

"Calm down, " you took hold of his hand, but he pulled out of your grasp, taking your upper arms as he pleaded with you.

"No! I want you to promise me you won't do this again! I can't lose you! I didn't want you to do it before, and now you're injured! Next time, it could be worse! Just, please... I can't control your life, but please don't do this again." He leaned his head forward, resting against your stomach. "Please."

"Okay, " your hands went to stroke along the back of his neck, "I promise." You lifted his head, gazing into his eyes. "I promise, okay?" He closes his eyes, savoring the words, knowing you will be safe, that he can help keep you safe. 

He felt your lips on his, your hands running along his scalp. He was quick to respond. In this moment, he was no longer sitting in a house.

This was what home felt like.

When you pulled away, his eyes remained closed for a moment, lips curling into a smile. You giggled as he opened his eyes and you weren't sure if he was dazed from drinking or from the kiss. It was a perfect moment...

Ruined when your stomach started to grumble.

"Sometimes, it really sucks to be human. All I wanna do is love on my man after not seeing him for almost a month, but my stomach can't go twelve hours without making a fuss." You gave him a final peck on the forehead before heading to the kitchen. Unwilling to leave you alone for a second, Connor stumbled after you.

Opening the fridge, you were met with bottles of condiments and nothing else.

"I cleaned out the fridge last week. I didn't know when you'd be back." Connor found himself staring at your ass when you bent down to look in the crisper, as if food will magically manifest in the little drawers. He found the way it moved to be quite hypnotic,  swaying back and forth.

"Guess I'm on frozen dinner." You grabbed one, fiddling with the package before chucking it into the microwave. In that time, Connor had moved behind you.

"You're very pretty, " he spoke, pressing up against you and hugging you.

"And you're very drunk, " you giggled. He started to sway back and forth, dancing to music only he could hear.

"Wanna go to the zoo?" He mumbled in your ear.

"I'm pretty sure they're closed right now."

"They have an android dragon, now."

"That's cool but they're still closed."

"And a mermaid."

"And despite that, they are still closed!" You exclaimed.

"But... I wanna go..." Came his whine.

You turned in his arms, putting your hands on his shoulders as you both continued to sway. Connor was pouting again. So cute.

"We can go tomorrow, when they are open, okay?"

"...fine." He smiled down at you, happy to have you home. He wants to hold you close for the next month to make up for lost time. You rested your head against him as he pulled you closer. "I've missed you, " he whispered, closing his eyes as he rested against your head.

"I've missed you, too. Not one minute went by that I didn't wish I was curled up next to you, " you murmured, listening to the thrums of his thirium pump. You didn't even hear the microwave go off, nor did you care at this moment.

Connor's hands slowly started roaming, creeping from their place on your hips to your ass, gently kneading it. You would be lying if you said it didn't feel nice. Three weeks of running around a bar wearing high heels can really put a strain on your body. Your soft moan encouraged him to grab just a little harder, pushing you flush against his pelvis, getting a good idea of just how much he missed you.

"Someone's feeling frisky, " you chuckled.

"I think I have an addictive personality. I just can't get enough of you. Will you enable me?" He punctuated the last sentence by grinding against you.

"You must be drunk to think you need pick-up lines to get to me, " your own hands started to wander from his shoulders, sliding across his pecs to his waist, then his hips where you traced along his pelvic "bone" before pulling away, just as your stomach decided to make you aware of your food cooling in the microwave. "Human needs overpower human desires. You have to wait."

Once again, Connor pouted, but he agreed. As you ate, you both sat on the couch, tv on but at a low volume. You asked about what he's been up to and if he had fun tonight. He told you about North being a bitch and how you should kick her ass if you ever meet her, earning a laugh from you. When you finished your food, you got up to put your dish in the sink. On the way back, you started undoing your shirt buttons for what is to come.

Or rather, what was to come. Connor had laid down and must have found it so comfortable, he entered sleep mode. His LED spun a lazy blue. He looked so relaxed. You turned off the lights and grabbed a blanket. Then, you took off your jeans and laid down on top of him. Other than his LED flickering a little faster for a moment, he didn't react. Lastly, you tossed the blanket over you both, laying your head down and letting his artificial heart be your lullaby.

.........

The next morning, Connor woke up in a daze. The sunlight seemed too bright from the blinds, prompting him to close his eyes as he connected to the house system and closed them. There was a pressure in his lower abdomen. A warning was flashing on his HUD informing him of his need to remove excess fluids. He went to sit up, only to realize there was another weight on top of him. He opened his eyes, finding you laying across his body. You looked so peaceful, eyes closed, mouth slightly open as you lightly snored. He could lay here forever, but the warnings kept flashing, and the pressure in his groin felt so uncomfortable. Why did he have to drink so much? 

He fought with himself, trying not to move until it was getting to be too much. Gently, he rolled over, trying to ease you onto the couch. He did not notice how your arms wrapped around his neck, locked together. When he stood up, your weight pulled him back down. You whined out a protest to being moved, making him freeze as he tried to get you to let go.

"Love? Could you let go, please?" He whispered into your ear. Your lips curled as you kept your eyes closed.

"I could, " you mumbled. He sighed.

"Would you please release me? I need to use the restroom."

"No, I don't really want to." The warnings started flashing brighter, making his head throb.

"Please, love? Sweetheart? I really need to go, " he spoke, borderline desperate. When you didn't answer, he stood, once again bringing you up, practically carrying you towards the bathroom, all the while you were giggling. The blanket tangled around his feet and he fell backwards to the ground.

"Please, Y/n, let me go! I'll do anything!" 

"Say,  'Y/n is the nicest, most beautiful woman in the world and it is an honor for me to be graced by her presence'!"

"Y/n is the nicest, most beautif-" you cut him off with a kiss. It was so brief, he chased after your lips when you pulled back.

"Close enough, " you snickered, releasing him and pushing off from his chest. You offered your hand to him to help him up, which he took, laughing as you struggled to haul him up. 

Quickly, he pulled you close and kissed you.

"When I'm finished, we're picking up where we left off, " he smirked before dashing off, leaving you shook for a moment.

"I'll hold you to that!" You called after him, looking forward to a proper 'Welcome Home'.

[mastreworld]

Be nosy-

1-50

I'm very nosy! 😛

That took me a second but here they are:

1. What’s your sexual orientation?

Grey-asexual, aro-adjacent, and bi... something (it’s complicated)

2. What are you obsessed with right now?

Playing Sims 2, but I feel like it’s about to shift. Not sure what’s next.

3. Ever done any drugs?

Not beyond alcohol, no. I wouldn’t be against trying space cake one day but that’s more for curiosity's sake.

4. What piercings do you want?

I have one in each ear; can’t think of any other I’d like to have.

5. How many people have you kissed?

Not sure... between 5 and 10 maybe? I’ve never been a fan of kissing tbh.

6. Describe your dream home.

With a space for everything so it doesn’t get so /#(&% cluttered.

7. Who are you jealous of?

No one that I can think of.

8. What’s your favorite show to binge?

Don’t have one right now. I’ve been watching “Cold Case” but that’s not really a show you can binge on since it’s so tragic. I do occasionally go on a “Final Destination” binge-watch though.

9. Do you watch porn?

No, I gave up on that decades ago because it was all so boring and disappointing. I can, however, enjoy gifs and pics.

10. Do you have a secret sideblog?

Not secret but I have a cat-blog @cattyfelines , one writing @mastrewritingupdates and one @naughtymastre that I no longer update because tumblr fucked it up in their sex-negativity 🙄

11. If you could teleport anywhere in the world right now, where would you go?

That... I really don’t know. I support teleporting as a way of traveling though.

12. What’s one of your fantasies?

To snuggle up against Loki in bed with my face against his neck, his arms around me and my leg over his hip... sorry, got a bit carried away in the details, heh.

13. Do you have/would you get your nipples pierced?

Absolutely not! *shudder*

14. How would you spend a million dollars?

Making sure that I and my daughter remain financially secure for the foreseeable future. I would also finally feel free to donate to any causes I want to support, so I don’t feel so powerless in the world.

15. Are you in a relationship?

Nope, and I prefer singlehood.

16. Do you follow porn blogs?

I did, but they seem to have disappeared so I guess they got tired of Tumblr’s fuckery and moved elsewhere.

17. Are you angry with anyone right now?

Not unless I allow myself to think about it. My anger gets triggered by bullies and bigots, especially if they act controlling.

18. What tattoos do you want?

One of Loki’s helmet and the words “God of Mischief” and possibly one with some kind of cat.

19. If you could change your name, would you? What would you change it to?

I changed my first name slightly by omitting part of it and just leaving “Marie” back in my twenties. I also tried to change my last name to “Strega” but the patent laws in my country wouldn’t allow it so I added it as a second first name instead (and use it in informal situations.)

20. What is something you’re obsessed with?

Nutritional science keeps coming back in my obsessions. As does various languages I want to learn.

21. Describe your best friend.

Lives in India, writes naughty Loki fics, and sent me a box of beautiful things recently 🥰 She’s also adorable.

22. Tag someone you think is hot.

Uhm...@MCU Loki?

23. Who are five of your favorite bands/musical artists?

Meatloaf, Buffy Sainte-Marie, FR David, Modern Talking, Belinda Carlisle... though I’m more into individual pieces than artists.

24. What are three places you want to travel?

I’m really not much for traveling but it might be fun to go back to London one day. Also considering visiting Amsterdam at some point. And I’m getting curious about India.

25. Describe your perfect Friday night.

All alone. Snacks at the ready. Favorite music. Indulging shamelessly in one of my favorite games.

26. What’s your favorite season?

Summer.

27. What’s your pet peeve?

People who won’t respect the word “No” (or boundaries in general).

28. Who is the funniest person you know?

I’m originally Swedish so my thoughts revert to Magnus Härenstam and Brasse Brännsström, lol. There might be someone more recent but it’ll pop up after I’ve posted this, most likely.

29. What’s the most overrated movie?

Probably “Thor Ragnacrap”.

30. Tag someone you want to talk to but have been too shy to message.

Can’t. I’d just disappoint them due to not being able to keep up the contact.

31. Do you like paper books or ebooks better?

After careful consideration and trying out both, I prefer paper books. E-books are practical though, so I still have some.

32. If you could live in a fictional world, what world would you pick?

Don’t know... Probably one of my own making.

33. If money was no object, what would your wardrobe be like?

Tailored to my taste and body shape. Soft materials. Black pants and short jackets. Colorful tops. A mix of masculine and feminine. Comfortable shoes with heels.

34. What’s your coffee order?

None, I can’t stand coffee.

35. Do you have a crush on anyone?

None beyond Loki. I crush easily but mostly on fictional characters since they are more interesting.

36. Do you still have feelings for any of your exes?

Nope. They killed those thoroughly.

37. Have any tattoos?

Not yet. Maybe I get around to it someday.

38. Do you drink?

Rarely. I drink wine when invited somewhere and I like sweet dessert wines and creamy liqueurs, but I can’t have more than two glasses or I get sleepy.

39. Are you a virgin?

No, that was a long time ago.

40. Do you have a crush on any of your mutuals?

Nope, but I feel affectionate towards them.

41. How many followers do you have?

1661 as of this moment.

42. Describe the hottest person you know.

Slender, black hair, male but with a bit of an androgynous vibe. Intense.

43. What’s your guilty pleasure?

Sweet-tasting food.

44. Do you read erotica?

In the form of fanfic smut, yes. I rarely come across anything good among mainstream books.

45. What’s the worst date you’ve ever been on?

Never officially dated, so can’t say.

46. How many people do you follow?

213

47. If you could marry any celebrity, who would you pick?

Uh... I don’t do marriage.

48. Describe your ideal partner.

Respectful, kind, open-minded, and quiet. Dominant and feral in bed.

49. Who do you text the most?

My disability coach, lol.

50. What’s your favorite kind of weather?

Sunny without being hot.

This was fun!

[welcome-to-the-petting-zoo]

Hey guys! I was wondering if any of you could offer me some tips on calming yourself down or lessening stress? Because of my contamination fears and the fact that I live in the U.S. everything has been piling up. My family doesn’t rlly take me or anything seriously either. So I’ve been falling into fits of “I’m not going to be able to leave the house in years, what’s the point in being here” and general other bad thoughts so I wonder if anything you known could help calm me down? Thanks!

Hey there Anon,

TP here. I'm so sorry you're struggling like this, and especially that your family can't/won't provide you with the support you need.

I'm going to try to collect some general advice and some healthy coping techniques, maybe you can find something here that can relieve your stress. I don't know enough about your lifestyle, specific issues and circumstances to tailor the list to your needs too much, but I'll try to bring up some varied points so maybe there is something you'll find useful.

There are things you can do in the moment to relieve stress and then there are things that are more preventive or work over a longer period, I'll try to cover both categories.

Let's start with in the moment relief:

Grounding. The same way grounding techniques can help with dissociative symptoms, they are also a great tool for stress relief. If you can take a moment to collect yourself, it can help you avoid blowing up or imploding into a depressive mess. There are great breathing exercises geared towards stress relief, but you can also do some physical practices, like putting your hands together in front of you like you were praying, and pressing your palms together as hard as you can, for as long as you can. This will release the physical tension in your body and with that, some of the emotional charge will dissipate too.

Depending on whether your stress manifests as anger, you can also do anger relief exercises, such as trying to rip a piece of cardboard in as many pieces as you can, or, my personal favourite, taking an old pair of sneakers and throwing them against the ground or an outdoor wall, because that won't harm either the wall or the shoes, and it's loads better than turning that anger on yourself or another person. Of course if you can manage your anger without having to act on it, all the better, but if you feel like you're about to explode, blowing off the steam in a non-dangerous way that still allows you to express your destructive urges can work.

This is extreme, but if you have the environment (e.g. you can go to a place away from humanity), you can even try to just scream as loudly as you can. I've never tried this method, but some people swear by it.

Remove yourself from the situation/environment. I know it can be super hard during the pandemic, but if you have the chance, just taking a walk, especially if you can go somewhere devoid of people in nature, is one of the best ways to clear your head and give yourself the space you need to calm down. What I often do is, I get on my bike and take a long ride on some abandoned back roads, which of course is a very special privilege most people don't have, but if you can carve out a little space for yourself somewhere, that can do wonders.

If you can't leave the house because of your fear of contamination or any other reason, I would advise you put on a pair of headphones, if you have noise cancelling ones, those are the best, but basically any pair will do, lie down on your bed and listen to music or nature sounds for a while. I live listening to the sea, or forest noises. There are several free apps you can download that let you create your own sound scapes from different sound elements, so you can tailor your experience to your specific tastes. If lying still is too hard or distracting, you can also try pacing while listening, just make sure you keep to a slow and steady stroll so you won't end up accidentally winding yourself up even more.

You can try doing some yoga, workout or sport. There are a lot of exercises you can also do indoors and generally, moving your body is a wonderful thing, it relieves stress, releases some happy chemicals and tires you out so you won't feel anxious anymore. Basically how this works is, emotions have physical "symptoms" and they work both ways. If you're experiencing the bodily sensation, you'll get the emotion as well, which also means, if you can stop the physical symptom, the emotion will go away too. For example, if you make yourself smile even though you're in a bad mood, you'll soon start feeling better, or the thing when people get anxious or angry because they are hungry and they can feel a knot in their stomach... It works just like that with anxiety/stress as well, if you can relieve the tension from your body, you'll also feel less stressed.

You can try stim toys or other equipment that's geared towards people with sensory integration issues. These tools were developed for people who get easily overwhelmed, so they are extremely efficient for relieving stress. There are tons of different kinds, so you can experiment with what feels right for you. Maybe it's a squishy toy, maybe a weighted blanket, or something you can bite into or a logic puzzle to stimulate your brain. As I said, there are loads of resources out there, and I'm positive there is something you could benefit from, and well, these tools are there for anybody who needs them, so feel free to experiment with them!

Okay, so let's take a look at the longer term things.

Meditation is one of the most awesome things ever. If you're not into spirituality, or if you think it's bullshit, rest assured, that's where I came from too... Until I've tried it. It helped me so much with my insomnia and other stress related issues, and well, it's not like I'm suddenly a hardcore Buddhist or something (not that there is anything wrong with that either, meditation and spirituality/any religion can absolutely go hand in hand), because in the end I like being my weird pragmatic self, but even so, meditation is something I love doing, it gives me peace and teaches me how to relax and come closer to understanding what my body needs and how to pay attention to it. There are also very cool resources for that, both apps and podcasts/YouTube channels that have guided meditation materials or that teach you different techniques.

If you have the spoons, please, do exercise! It is so damn helpful and important, but I also know it's something that can be super hard and I also struggle with it a lot, but whenever I actually manage to move around just for a few minutes, I feel so accomplished and so well physically and mentally.

Try to express your emotions in different ways. Create awesome vent art (your skill level doesn't matter, you can literally be scribbling on a piece of paper, or squishing a block of clay into a shapeless lump, it's not about artistic quality)! Experiment with different media and techniques, write, draw, sculpt, make collages out of magazine cuttings, press flowers, knit emotional sweaters, whatever your preferred method is, creating is a truly healing experience. It allows you to collect your thoughts and emotions and express them in a way that engages your brain in a different way than just thinking about it does, and it turns the negative emotions into positive experiences of creation and relaxation.

Ask someone to give you a massage. Again, back to the whole body and mind influence each other thing, not to mention that massages feel awesome and if it's a friend or loved one giving it, it also creates intimacy and a shared good moment which in and of itself can help a lot.

Talk about it! Seriously, fuck those people who tell you it's somehow wrong to talk about your issues or that you're being a burden. YOU'RE NOT! If you're in distress or you just feel like you need a talk, just do it! If you have noone to talk to, just get back to me, I'll be happy to listen if that means you're feeling better. There will ALWAYS be people who would happily listen to your venting if that would make you feel relief.

Finally, if this is something that's an option for you, consider talking to a therapist or your healthcare provider. They might be able to point you in the direction of some resources or talk about the possibility of temporary medicinal treatment until the pandemic blows over.

I hope this helps a little bit, and of course, if you have any follow-up questions, I'll be happy to elaborate on any of the points. I'm sorry for not including specific links or resources, but I'm a disabled weirdo and right now typing this out is all I have in me. But if you can't find something, or would like specific recommendations, get back to me and I'll look into the specifics for you.

Best of luck,

TP

[justsomeoneintoomanyfandoms]

Hello! May I receive an Obey Me! matchup? :)

To start off, I���m in my 20s. My pronouns are they/them, AFAB and genderfluid! My sexuality is panromantic and acespec, and love me some fictional men. <3 My star sign is Taurus and MBTI type is INFP.

Also I’m AuDHD, have PSTD and am a bit of an introvert.

For appearances, I’m 5’4 (cries) with medium length darkish brown hair in the style of a shaggy mullet, light warm toned skin and a mid size body type. And I’m nearsighted AF so I use glasses.

I tend to dress in very fem fashion most times. My style fluctuates between goth aesthetic and the pink cutesy aesthetic, which is always hilarious to see people’s baffled reactions when one day I’m dressed fully in black then the next day where a very pink and sanrio themed outfit. 🤭

Funny that a lot about me fluctuates either from one or the other, I’m so bad with decision making that it’s literally engrained in me lol. This goes for my taste in music as well!

It’s between nu metal and goth rock to chill lo-fi and melodic instrumental! but game soundtracks and music that’s like jack stauber (music you probably hear in a lot of those weirdcore and liminal spaces videos lol) is something I listen to as well!

I’m pretty quiet, get anxious easily (even though I tend to hide it but can still be seen through pacing back and forth a lot eugh). I’m excitable with things I love, though I get scared because my own excitement makes me ramble too much so I try to hold back a lot unless I’m comfortable with the person and am confident they won’t get annoyed or if they ever need a break they could let me know!

I do digital art in my free time and writing storylines and plots to OCs and personal projects probably for most of the day because I love it too much… also, I’m a gamer too! But I have huge preferences for indie horror and cozy games. Horror games with heavy topics like The Cat Lady, and cozy games like Stardew Valley! Also, don’t ever ask me to tell you the FNAF lore I will legit spend hours explaining and adding layers of theories. It’d drive people insane. 🧍

I LOVVEE cozy clothing like oversized sweaters, cold weather, SLEEPING even though I have a hard time doing so, and I’m a huge foodie! I like trying foods from all culture and try new things! :)

I HAATTEE overly bright lights, it sends me into a panic!! The feeling of rubbery squishy food, my autistic butt will die on the spot. 😭 Being ignored is something I can’t stand, I’d probably cry lol. Same effect if I get yelled at.

Okay that’s about it, thank you !! 💕💕

Hi Anon! Thank you for your request! Sorry it took so long. I hope you like your matchup!

In Obey Me, I match you with...

Satan is a good person for you to be around, both platonically and romantically.

He's great at helping you with your AuDHD and PTSD. Since he's read so much, he knows a variety of different ways he can help and will tailor those to suit your specific needs.

He will lend you his sweaters! He thinks you look cute wearing them and they're just the right type of oversized. He'll leave one laying around for you every day so if you want to wear one, you can.

Very attentive. You never feel like you're being ignored when Satan's around. He values your opinion and finds everything you have to say interesting.

Will never yell at you. He knows he can be volatile sometimes so if he thinks there's a chance he might snap and yell at you, he'll let you know and will keep some distance between you until he calms down. The last thing he wants is to make you feel uncomfortable.

[barb610]

@earthquakeofideas​ asked - pls may my lonely ass have a ship 🥺 i’m a girl w brown hair + blue eyes, glasses, and im kinda thicc and short. i rly like all things horror even tho i’m a huge chicken. i love to draw, and i also love indie music, and fashion. i’m also a vegetarian :-) i love reptiles and dogs. also, i’m a very empathetic person uwu! thank u bro 💕💗🥺🥰

Of course you can!  I am so sorry that this took so, so long!  Remote learning had really messed up my schedule (not that I really had one to begin with).  

I ship you with... 

Horace Somnusson!

I know this might sound strange, and I know that he is one of the younger wards of the loop, but let’s just assume that he’s a few years older!  I got a little carried away, so there’s a LOT of stuff under the cut

So you work at a small family owned boutique in a no-name town in Florida, it was one of those “My friend’s aunt who knows this lady, who’s sister-in-law owns this” kinda things

On one particular day, business was very slow, so you decided to listen to your own music through your earbuds instead of whatever trending pop music was playing over the intercom of the boutique today

You’re jamming out, folding some nice sweater, and hanging up dress on the “Sale! 10% Off” rack, so you don’t notice the bunch of people that walk in

You finally realize that they had walked into the store when you get a tap on your shoulder

You turn around to see a beautiful blond boy with impeccable fashion sense

I’d like to think that Horace gets quite a bit taller as he gets older so he’d kind of be staring down at you 

Hi miss!  Do you happen to have this dress shirt in a smaller size?  Wonderful blouse you have on there, truly quality craftsmanship.  Maybe a medium?  Or do you have any slimmer styles?

You were in awe of the style he had and the fact he had an elegant British accent, something very unusual for no-name town in Florida

Most guys that came in here were sent in by their girlfriend or wife with a picture of what they needed

This guy wore beautiful leather oxfords, exquisitely tailored slacks, and a button up that was probably nicer than a lot of the shirts in here

You had to look up at him to see his face (and he had a pretty nice one)

Oh, yeah, we actually have a few slimmer ones, they’re behind that display over there.

Responding to him makes you realize the group of people he’s with

There’s another boy older than the one you just helped, and one other boy that looks around the same age, he had almost cartoon-like bags under his eyes

There were two girls, one practically had fire in here eyes and one wore a quite tomboy outfit

Thanks, love!

“Love?” You thought to yourself, who calls someone they just met “Love”?  Is it a British thing?

You watched him walk over to the other side of the store and later helped him and his friends check out at the counter

You had an interesting conversation about cashmere versus alpaca wool while him and his friends payed for the clothes they picked out

The rest of the day, you kept the strange interaction in the back of your mind, wishing you had gotten his name

Once you had finished up closing the shop, you walked out, holding your sketchbook along with your other belongings and began locking the front door of the boutique

There was the sound of expensive shoes slapping against the pavement, but you didn’t think of it because there was always a bunch of rich kids running around this neighborhood

You turned around, only to see the boy from earlier running towards you and slam into you sending your sketchbook flying, papers floating in the air

They settled in the ground revealing your drawings of outfits and cute little reptiles

Oh my, oh dear, I am so sorry, so unbelievably sorry.  Let me help you pick these up, love

“Love? again?” you thought

He bent down and started to gather the pages that were strewn out all over the sidewalk

As the boy helped you pick up your sketches, he began to admire your sketches

These are quite superb!  I love this chameleon you have here!

You weren’t too sure on how to respond, you don’t even know why he ran into you in the first place!  Let alone his name!

Oh, you must be confused a bit on why I ran into you like a madman.  I truly am sorry, I was trying to get here before you closed the shop because, well, this must sound absurd, but I wanted to get your name.  I’m Horace by the way.  I just wanted to talk to you a bit more.

You were a little shocked, but you introduced yourself and the rest is history

You two started going out on the town as friends and it quickly evolved into something else

It wasn’t a surprise when he asked you to go on a real date with him

After a wonderfully planned date, he was walking you home when you both noticed that you were being followed

Millard, I know that you’re following us!  Please come out of the bushes so I can introduce you to her.  I figured this was going to happen sooner than later.  

When nothing stepped out of the bushes even though you heard the sound of rustling leaves

Horace introduced you to Millard, briefly going over the fact that he was invisible, something that seemed a lot more important to you than Horace apparently

I suppose I should explain the rest to you now shouldn’t I?

He took you to a large expensive house on the other side of town, where you were introduced to the rest of the gang

He explained the peculiardom to you, and told you what he could do

You were a little skeptical at first, but quickly realized that he wasn’t joking around

You guys were hanging out at your place when he fell asleep on the couch

This was after a mutual agreement to stop a horror film you guys were watching because of the antagonists’ mutated animal that would have given you both nightmares if you continued

At first Horace was just squirming a bit

Then he started to whimper and cry out for someone that you didn’t know

But you really understood what he was talking about when he shot up from the couch, eyes wide open and glossed over, not really focusing on anything

Oceans will rise to claim what was stolen from them, ashes will fall from the skies to punish the destructive, cities will burn in the name of greed,  after the fog lifts the only remnants will be of those who tried, we will be no longer, six-legged wings will devour us in the end

When he first started talking his voice sounded almost dreamy, but by the time he finished, he was shouting, his limbs flying everywhere, it was as if he was in physical pain, but it was only a dream

As soon as he stopped spewing out apocalyptic riddles, he slipped back into a restless sleep

You were so freaked out that you didn’t let him sleep for long, you woke him up and asked him what that whole thing was about

He told you that he didn’t remember anything he saw or said, and the ones he can’t remember barely every come true

You trusted Horace, so you relaxed and decided to put that horror film you stopped

It took a few scenes to remember why you had shut it off in the first place

Horace started taking a lot of naps at your place, he usually didn’t get a lot of sleep when he went to bed at night due to his visions

You weren’t aware how little sleep he was getting, oh the wonders of concealer 

Sleeping somewhere else didn’t stop the visions of seeing people he didn’t even know get in car accidents, get shot in a back ally, and many other worse things

He wanted to sleep wherever you were because when he would wake up in a cold sweat, he didn’t want to have to explain what he saw to Miss P, or answer Millard’s endless questions, or have to endure Enoch’s rude comments

He wanted to be with you

You would be there for him, if he wanted to talk, you would listen, if he wanted to just sit and think, you would be right next to him

He’d absolutely love your glasses!

He’d love picking out new frames with you

He’d search the whole store to find the perfect pair

And Horace would love to go shopping with you because let’s be real here, Horace is the only peculiar with any fashion sense whatsoever

Do you know happy he would be to have a conversation about fashion with someone who knows what he’s talking about

He would totally buy you outfits at completely random times for absolutely no reason

I just saw this and I knew that you would look spectacular in it, even though you look spectacular in everything under the sky, love

Did I mention that he calls you “love” all the time?

Well, he does and refuses to call you anything else

He has you in his phone (assuming he gets one when he’s out of the loop) as Love

Just Love

When he finds out that you’re vegetarian, he goes on a vegetarian kick himself

He learns a bunch of vegetarian recipes to cook for you guys

And the dishes he cooks taste so  g o o d

Horace totally revamps his own diet to match yours and is the most supportive boyfriend ever

Enoch makes fun of him a lot for it

Horace is would be an amazing boyfriend

I didn’t realize how long I made this!! I hope that you like them and I am so sorry that it took me so long to get to this!  I hope that it was worth the wait!

[seanfalco]

So I had a thought for another ValdoxReader, if you want. Your repeat-Reader is a minor noble. You know who else comes from nobility? Jask. So maybe he and the reader are old friends (or even formerly arranged betrothed?) and she and Valdo run into him on the road. A jealous snark off ensues and/or Something happens and our beautiful bards have to set aside their differences for the reader's sake?

Fandom: The Witcher Pairing: Valdo Marx x Reader / Former lover!Jaskier x Reader Word Count: 2.5 k Rating: T Tag List: @ficsandcatsandficsandcats @nevadawolfe @magic-multicolored-miracle @wayward-dream a/n: Sorry I’ve been away for a bit, been overwhelmed with some stuff and working on some original fiction.  :3  This takes place after ‘A Matter of Honor’ & I got a little carried away trying to push through this writer’s block, oops.  I hope you enjoy it though.  <3

Another day, another courtly party.

Upon arriving you were met with talk of another world renowned bard slated to perform that evening, much to your paramour’s chagrin and you wondered just who the mysterious performer might be.

Valdo’s sharp green eyes surreptitiously scanned each room you entered, no doubt searching for his competition, though he would never admit that he actually saw anyone as such, and you fought back a grin; squeezing his arm reassuringly.  He turned to you and smiled, his expression softening, and that was when you saw him across the room, recognition flashing across your visage before you could stop it.

Valdo noticed instantly, his gaze seeking out what had caused your reaction, his warm smile twisting to a disdainful sneer.

“Ah, Jaskier,” he hissed.  “So that is the other entertainment they invited.  I would have thought the Noble host had better taste than that talentless wastrel who spends his time pandering to the masses.”

Arching an eyebrow at the venom dripping from Valdo’s words you glanced past him at the other bard -- the man you once knew as Julian.

“So… you know him, do you?” you asked.

“Unfortunately,” Valdo answered coolly, raising his chin to peer haughtily across the room at his rival.  “From my days at Oxenfurt Academy,” he explained and you wondered how Jaskier hadn’t noticed the icy glare currently piercing his shoulder blades -- surely the hostility in your lover’s gaze would itch.

It was obvious Valdo despised Jaskier enough as it was, you could see no reason why you should disclose your own history with Julian Pankratz as well.  For that would surely only fan the flames and that was not a fire you wanted to fight this evening.  All you had to do was keep the two bards apart.  

Simple enough, in theory.

Jaskier performed first, which seemed to mollify Valdo slightly.  You heard him mutter something about him ‘getting the audience warmed up for him’ and you shook your head ruefully.  

Careful to keep your expression neutral during Jaskier’s performance, you slipped your hand in Valdo’s, twining your fingers with his and pulling him off to the side for a few stolen kisses, hoping the distraction might help lighten his sour mood -- all the while wondering if omission of the truth was the same as a lie or not.

When it came time for Valdo to take the floor he brushed shoulders with Jaskier, his icy sneer a match for the other bard’s fierce glower.

Wonderful, you thought with a sigh; obviously Valdo’s disdain for Jaskier was mutual and all the more reason to keep the two apart.

Settling in to watch, your eyes followed Jaskier as he left the room and a small sigh of relief passed through your lips.  Soon the large hall was filled with people dancing -- some gracefully and others rather drunkenly, for the host was far from stingy with the wine and you rose from your spot at the table to find more of said wine to refill your cup and possibly peruse the sumptuous spread of deserts.

Nearly being trampled by a spirited couple twirling across the floor, you stumbled backwards into a pair of waiting arms, catching you before you could fall.  Your savior set you upright and you straightened your skirts as you distractedly thanked him, finally raising your face, your voice failing as you found yourself met by a pair of clear blue eyes you hadn’t looked into in years.

“Julian!” you exclaimed once your voice had returned and he flashed you a grin, the cheeky one you remembered all too well, which was usually accompanied by trouble.   

“[Y/N], it really is you,” he replied, looking over you as if he still couldn’t quite believe it.  “I caught sight of you earlier, but thought my eyes were playing tricks on me.  How are you?” he asked.  “You look… stunning.”

Smiling politely you waved away his compliment.  “You look good yourself,” you replied, taking note of his thread of gold embroidered doublet, wondering who his tailor was and imagining Valdo in something similar.

“I’m well,” you continued, refocusing your attention on Jaskier, a genuine smile slipping through.  “I’ve been traveling lately, seeing the world.”

“Oh?” he asked, surprise flitting across his boyish features.  “On your own?”

“No, I have someone I’m traveling with,” you answered, somewhat enigmatically as you poured yourself a drink, your eyes searching for Valdo amidst the crowd.  Luckily he was still preoccupied and hadn’t seemed to notice you speaking with his rival.

“Well, where is he?  Or she?  I’d love to meet the lucky person who’s managed to pull you out into the world.”  Jaskier asked, glancing around as if expecting your beau to appear at your side any moment.

Choking on your wine only bought you a handful of seconds to think as you swallowed, a lame excuse springing to your lips.  “Ah, he’s… around here somewhere.  Perhaps I’ll introduce you later.”

Jaskier appeared a trifle disappointed, but he soon perked up again as he asked if you happened to catch any of his performance.  As you caught up, you found it rather ironic that you’d nearly married a man who had run off to become a bard, only to end up in love with another bard.  How different would your life have been, you wondered, if Julian hadn’t broken off your arranged betrothal to seek his adventure?

“Would you like to dance?” 

“What?”  Jaskier’s question pulled you out of your thoughts and you gaped at him, mouth moving soundlessly for a moment.  “Oh, I dunno, uh, maybe later,” you floundered, certain that Valdo would see if you took the floor with Jaskier, even for one song.

“What, are you worried your lover will get jealous?” Jaskier asked with a laugh, flashing that rakish grin as he spread his hands.

Before you could answer, you felt an arm wrap around your waist and you jerked, glancing over to find Valdo at your side.  “Jealous?  Of you Pankratz?  I think not.”

Jaskier’s surprised face might have been comical in any other situation but as he stared wide eyed and gaping between you and Valdo you chewed your lip.

  “Am I missing something?” he asked incredulously.  “[Y/N], this must be a joke, because you can’t seriously be with-with him.  With Valdo Marx,” he nearly spat the name, while Valdo glared back, equally disgusted.

“I assure you, it is most certainly not a joke,” Valdo shot back, bristling.  “The only joke I see here is you.”

Jaskier spluttered angrily as Valdo ignored him and turned back to you.  

“[Y/N], please tell me you don’t truly know this poor excuse of a bard?  ...Because it seems as if you two are already acquainted.”

“I, uh…” you hesitated, not quite meeting his eyes which flashed momentarily with betrayal.  “Yes, Valdo,” you admitted, though quick to assure him it wasn’t what it looked like -- as if you were going behind his back.  “I know Julian from a long time ago.  We were friends as children, but I haven’t seen him for years.  How was I to know that you two were… rivals?” you asked, a frustrated snap to your voice.

“Rivals?  More like bitter enemies,” Jaskier grumbled under his breath, though you ignored it, keeping your eyes trained on Valdo’s.

“You… may have a point.  I don’t recall ever mentioning him, nor my distaste for the drivel he peddles as music before tonight.”

“Hold on a moment,” Jaskier butted in, his eyes narrowing with mischief.  “We were more than just friends, I’ll have you know.  [Y/N] was my first kiss and we were very nearly married.”

“Julian!” you hissed warningly, no trace of amusement in your tone.

Valdo’s eyes hardened as his lips went taut; his arm around your waist tightening perceptively.  “Not exactly something to boast of, Pankratz, as I’m assuming you were the one who broke it off, no doubt to chase your dreams of fame,” he sneered.  “You are a greater fool than I thought, if you let [Y/N] go so easily.”

“Oh my Gods,” you groaned, completely fed up with the pair of them and their bickering.  “You two are acting like children.  Valdo,” you exclaimed, turning to the man at your side.  “I have no feeling for Julian other than friendship, and Julian,” you said, next directing your attention to the other bard.  “Stop antagonizing Valdo just to make him jealous!  It is cruel and beneath you.  I understand neither of you care much for each other and that’s fine, but in my presence at least all I ask is you be civil, like adults, for my sake.”

Giving both of them one last stern glare you slipped out of Valdo’s arm and stalked out of the hall, leaving them both quite speechless and thoroughly chastened.  Without a word Valdo took off after you.  Prideful as he oft was, he was loath to admit you had a point, though he knew it was true, and his pride was certainly not near as important as you were.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Jaskier cried, scrambling to catch up to Valdo, falling into step with him with a frown.  “Where do you think you’re going?”

“To find [Y/N] and apologize to her,” Valdo explained shortly, purposefully quickening his stride so Jaskier would have to as well if he wanted to keep up.

Jaskier’s frown deepened as he noticed, breathing beginning to labour as he worked to keep pace.  “Well, I’m coming too!” he announced.  “Don’t think I’m going to let you look like the mature one here,” he puffed, swinging his arms forcefully.  

Valdo glanced over at him and scoffed.  “Oh please, Pankratz, you will never be mature, no matter how much you age.”

“You take that back!” Jaskier gasped, blue eyes widening at the insult.

“I will not,” Valdo replied sharply.

“You--!  You… rapscallion!”  Jaskier cried, grasping for a suitable retort, thoroughly scandalized.

Valdo’s lip curled with amusement as he continued to look for [Y/N].  

Up ahead a commotion shook the small gathered crowd, pulling Jaskier and Valdo up short.  Glancing at each other curiously they proceeded to push to the front.

“What’s going on?” Jaskier asked at the same time Valdo demanded, “What’s happened?”

“Oh!  Valdo Marx…” The chief servant withered visibly when he turned to see who had arrived.  “I’m afraid there’s been a-an accident.”  The man blanched further under Valdo’s level gaze and Jaskier hovered next to him anxiously.

“What do you mean?  What sort of accident?” 

“A d-disgruntled member of the kitchen staff came out wielding a large knife, raving mad and-and abducted one of the guests.”

“Which guest?” Jaskier exclaimed sharply, though he and Valdo could already guess.

“Why… the young lady that accompanied you, Valdo Marx,” the man’s voice wavered as a bead of sweat rolled down his temple.  “We’ve alerted the guards, but --”

“Which way did he take her?” Valdo demanded, cutting the steward off.

“Uhh, that way,” he answered, pointing down the hall.  “Deeper into the estate, but -- wait, it’s dangerous!” the man called as Valdo already turned in the direction indicated, hurrying down the hall, Jaskier right at his heels.

“Are we really doing this?” Jaskier panted, jogging now to keep up.

“I am, Pankratz,” Valdo replied, barely seeming to break a sweat.  “I could care less if you tag along or not.”

“Oh please!  Just admit you might need my help!”

Before Valdo could answer, the telltale sound of a struggle could be heard from the balcony up ahead and he shushed the other bard, pulling him off to the side.  The two crouched down, moving closer so they could get a clear view of the madman, brandishing a long dagger and pulling [Y/N] along behind him.

“Get your hands off me!” you cried, struggling in the servant’s grip.  “What do you think this is going to accomplish?”

“Shut up wench!” the man hissed, pressing the blade closer to your skin as you drew back.  “I just want what’s owed me.  And the ransom I’ll get for your pretty head will do just the trick.  If you cooperate I won’t have to hurt you.”

“So what’s the plan?” Jaskier whispered, blue eyes flicking back and forth between [Y/N] and Valdo.

“You really want to help, Pankratz?” Valdo asked, his sharp green eyes never straying from the knife at his beloved’s throat.

“I do!  I care about her too!”

Valdo thought for a moment, stroking his goatee thoughtfully.  “Good, then a distraction will do nicely, I think.”

Jaskier nodded, thinking quickly.  “That, I can do.  Now, watch a professional at work, Marx.”  

Standing and straightening his blue doublet Jaskier stepped out into the hall with a flourish, his hands spread, and an ingratiating smile on his face.  

“You there, don’t come any closer!”  The servant cried as soon as he spotted the bard, holding the dagger out toward Jaskier.

“Oh my, there you are,” he stalled, flashing a small smile for you.  “I’ve er, come at the bequest of the uh, host to find out what it is you are after and how we might get [Y/N] back safely.”

The dagger lowered slightly as the servant obviously believed him.  As Jaskier kept the man talking, you swallowed, catching movement off to your left and quickly averting your eyes, lest you alert your kidnapper.  Without warning you felt Valdo slip around behind you, the glint of steel visible in his hand before the arm around your waist went slack and the dagger clattered to the ground.

Pulling you away and into his arms, you buried your face against Valdo’s chest as several guards rushed in and hauled the servant to his feet as he clutched at his side, blood running through his fingers.

Taking a shaky breath you glanced over at Jaskier who slowly approached before tilting your face up to Valdo’s.  

“Are you alright, my darling?  You’re not hurt in any way?”

“I’m alright now, thanks to you two,” you murmured, tracing Valdo’s jaw before reaching out to take Jaskier’s hand and squeeze it.  “You know, I’m sure you’ll hate to hear this, but you two make a pretty good team.  Perhaps you might translate that to your music?”

Both men recoiled at your words, eyeing each other with disgust.  

“Songbird, are you quite certain you haven’t retained some sort of head injury?”  Valdo asked wryly and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“No, I’m serious.  You should think about it.”

“I think this may be the one and only time I agree with Valdo Marx, [Y/N].  I don’t see that happening any time soon,” Jaskier exclaimed, propping his hands on his hips, though he couldn’t quite keep the grin from his face.  “I think the only time we’ll put aside our differences will be the next time you get kidnapped.”

“There will be no next time!” Valdo cried, frowning disdainfully at Jaskier, his arms tightening protectively around you.

[domesticandlovingmonsters]

The Usual Haunt

The long awaited Connor fic! Sorry this took so long, but I hope you enjoy this Irish Vampire. I get so easily caught up with writing these characters that it just sorta turns into a massive piece of writing. 

Enjoy!

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

The Usual Haunt was a confusing night-club. It didn’t fit into any category you could think of. But it was full of all pieces of business. Serving coffees as well as all varieties of alcohol and magical elixirs. Arcades. Gaming rooms of all kinds. A dance floor with blasting music and spinning lights. There was a bar next to a ball pit and so much more.

Everyone who knew about it, all but gave up on giving it a category of club. It was just now known as a “Haunt”. The same with the other similar establishments around the city. Mostly because it was the only place in town that served blood for Vampires and certain magical foods for other types of Beings. Humans were allowed entry, but were told that if they became a meal for an otherworldly Being, they could not hold the club accountable. You had to sign a wager and everything before entering. 

You were safe from the magical Beings only if you wore, or had, the safety precautions on your person. And that was a lot of preparation for one night. And that was the reason you kept your very Human ass away from the Haunt. You worked with Werewolves and grew up with Witches; but that was within an environment that was locked down by rules and guidelines. The outside world, the night-clubs and dark streets, was a whole different ball-game. And you weren’t very good at sports.

Your friend however, was very much into that type of sport.

“Oh, but come on! It’ll be fun! Kilian will be there, plus a few of his friends so you can cling onto them.” Your friend, Nora, cooed excitedly. It was coming up to the 1 hour and 20 minute mark of her rambling about the club she desperately wanted to go to. Nora was never a party type gal, but she was really into one of the town’s local werewolves. And they were well known for hanging out at the Haunt on more than a few nights.

“I know Kilian, and he doesn’t do night-clubs.” You grumbled. Chopping up some ingredients for your dinner. Adding a little extra since your friend looked like she was staying over until you caved. “And he isn’t even part of that pack. He’s a loner, not even an omega. He’s here for a few more months for work, then moving on. Which by the way, he’s out of town right now. I’m not going to get dragged into another party just because you want some monster dick. And then get ditched because you want to go home with said monster dick.”

Your friend pouted heavily. But there was a curl to the corner of her mouth. A teasing look crossing over her gaze. “But don’t you want some monster dick? Maybe some monster pussy? Come on, you’ve barely been out of this house in weeks.”

“Wrong!” You exclaimed dramatically, waving around serving spoon to add to your theatrics. “I have been going to work. And walking to and from the grocery store. I do so leave the house.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Your friend grumbled, sighing heavily.

“Oh, I know what you meant. I just don’t care because you didn’t specify that type of going out.”

Your friend groaned and slapped her forehead against the wooden surface of the kitchen bench. “Just... come on. I really like this guy.”

“That’s what you said about the Ghost dude. And then you got your heart broken because he finished his business and followed the light into whatever comes next.” You said and your friend sighed again, moving to lean heavily against your arm as you finished chopping up some food.

“Conner works there now.” She said. That same teasing smile stretching more profoundly across her face.

“I’m aware.” You replied. Ignoring the increasing amount of weight your friend was pressing down on your shoulder.

“He’s a barista~” She was basically pulling you to the floor at this point. And you had to grunt with the attempt to keep yourself up. “I’ll stop cursing your food to rot if you come with me.”

As she said this, the food before you started to smell and turn grey. Puffs of fungus and growths of mound began to sprout from the piles of prepared food. You sighed and threw the whole bowl into the bin. “Fine. I will come with you. But only for an hour, then I’m gone.” 

Nora cheered excitedly and threw her arms around you. Hugging you tightly as you rolled your eyes. Unenthusiastically patting her shoulder as she gave you a tight squeeze.  “I won’t ditch you. I swear!” She grinned happily. 

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

That night, after many drinks and quite a few flirtatious monsters, you decided it was past time for you to head home.  Nora had disappeared hours ago with her werewolf crush, and you were finding the rest of the pack to be a little dull.  So, you decided to mingle. 

And, damn, there were some good looking people in the Haunt.  Tonight was a casual night. Meaning that the drinks flowed with a little less alcohol, and the music was set to a more chill sound track.  The once night-club aesthetic was replaced with something similar to a cozy coffee style. It was warm, smelled sweet, and you could actually talk without having to scream over air vibrating wubs. 

You were almost tempted to stay a little longer. In which you decided to do and help yourself to one more drink while waiting for a confirmation on Nora’s state. Seating yourself in the corner of the building, nestled into a booth cushioned with heavenly soft arm-chairs and mood-lit candles. And there, you waited for Nora to answer your messages. Even drunk, you would each send one another a text before going to sleep to state that you were alive.  However, 5 ignored calls and 10 follow messages later, you were starting to worry. Nora was a grown witch, but it still worried you a friend wasn’t responding. 

“Get ditched again, did ya?” A smooth Irish accent pulled your attention away from your phone.  You basically swooned as Connor flashed you his well-known smile. Seeming to glide up beside you, sliding into the booth with a smooth and subtle motion of his arm resting behind your shoulders. He sat close enough to you that you could feel the cool temperature of his skin and the musk from his clothes. He was hard to ignore. Since everything about him was meant to lure you in.  Being the ancient apex predator he was.  And also, the Haunt’s uniform of black tailored suits looked amazing on someone like Connor.

“Yeah.” You sighed. Plopping your phone onto the table in front of you. “She has a thing for the Alpha in town. She’s practically been stalking him for weeks, trying to figure out when he’d be here.” 

Connor laughed. A chuckle that was as contagious as his smile. “Caught whiff of her skulking around ‘ere. Poor wolfie won’t know what to do with someone like her.”  Connor glanced at your half empty glass. He leaned forward and took it between his fingers, swirling the liquid around in the glass before sniffing it.  His crimson eyes screwed up in disgust. Theatrically coughing, as if he was choking on something foul. “You’re drinkin’ this? Seriously? Na, not on my watch. I’m getting you somethin’ a little less... demeaning.” 

You pretended to be offended. “Are you hating on my taste in drinks, sir?” 

“Lass, I am neither a sir, nor am I one to hate on a divine beings taste in beverages. But yes. I am hating on your life choices tonight.”  Connor then teased you with a wink before standing. Leaving you in a rush of cold wind as he travelled across the room to the bar in a blur of red vapour.  You saw the bartender chat with Connor as he poured two glasses of an amber drink. The bottle looked ancient, and was retrieved from a glass cabinet on the higher shelf.  That alone gave you cause to think that Connor was probably spending far too much on a drink for you. 

While he was gone, your phone buzzed with a message from Nora. It was, not only a confirmation of her being alive and safe, but also a dick picture of what she was currently “playing with”.  Her own words.  You rolled your eyes. Hoping that whatever Connor was bringing back would drown that image from your mind. 

With another cold wave of air, Connor returned. Seating himself just as close, and just as snugly, beside you. He handed you the glass. It felt warm against your fingers and when you sniffed it; your nose tingled. As if you just smelt something delightful.  “What is this? And why did I see that barista reach for a bottle on the, ‘cannot afford in my lifetime’ shelf?” 

Connor smirked. Straightening his suit as he sat a little more comfortably next to you.  “It’s called Familiar’s Home-Stew. It’s a concoction of elixir drinks to create a beverage that gives a taste of whatever the drinker desires.” He tilted his glass towards you, an eyebrow raised expectantly. You sighed, smiling softly and tapped the glasses together with a soft clink.  As your lips touched the glass rim, and the warm liquid trickled over your tongue, Connor continued. “And it’s from that shelf because I’ve lived enough life-times to spend an entirety of a living on one drink. For you only, though.” 

Your mind was too pleasantly distracted by the taste to fully react to his words. The drink layered your taste-buds with a multitude of flavours. Some from your childhood. Others were of sweets that you sometimes craved and ate buckets of in one sitting.  Then it settled with a gentle tingle of a hot beverage. An almost comforting end to the warm embrace of the liquid as it travelled down your throat and settled in your stomach. 

“Whoa...” You said softly. “That’s... amazing.” 

Connor swished his sip in his mouth slowly. His vibrant gaze closing for a moment as he tasted the wave of flavours from the drink.  After he swallowed, his eyes fluttered open and he sighed. “This ‘ere is the only positive reminder of humanity. The sensations of it at least.” Connor murmured. Swirling the golden liquid gently. Watching the dim light refract through the drops of amber. “Scents of the old world. Reminders of home-land flavours. Sometimes, if I really concentrate, I can even feel the warmth of the drink.”

“I thought you didn’t miss your mortality.” You asked. Taking another small sip. Whatever the mixture was, it was already causing the fog of drunkenness begin to float into your mind. 

“I don’t.” Connor replied, returning his attention to you. The crimson hue of his gaze captivated you in place. Not that you’d want to look away. If not for his damned accent, his gaze alone would catch you. Specks of gold and silver embroidered the red. Lining the dark pupil like a border of blood around a pit of ink. “My Sire gave me this life with my consent. And I never regret givin’ up my one life, to live the lives of hundreds. But sometimes... I miss the small things about humanity.” 

You leaned a little more into more into him. The drink gave you a glow of warmth in your stomach and it was slowly spreading throughout your body. It was nice.  “What do you miss the most? I know you said you miss warm beds.” 

Connor moaned dramatically, you guessed in confirmation.  “So much. You ‘ave no idea how much I miss warm feathered blankets. Or fur covers warmed by a fire.” He sighed and focused back on you. Seeming to be in thought as he looked at you. “I miss... hugs the most. The softness of others, warm and... comforting. It’s hard to explain, really.” 

“I get it though.” You said, taking another sip from your glass. Humming as a new wave of flavours washed over your tongue. Warming you entirely to your core. “Hugs are indescribable. But I thought you felt warmth.” 

“I do, but it’s hot. Like when you’d stick ya cold hand under a warm shower spray. It’s nice, but it also stings a little.” Connor leaned closer. He was basically leaning against you now. But you were leaning just as much into him as he was too you. “Like now. This is warm. Nice and warm, but the first contact is a shock.” 

You chuckle and tilt your head back against his shoulder. Looking up at him through your eyelashes.  “I think you’re just using your ‘no humanity’ story to get free hugs.” You teased. Rewarded with another adorable chuckle from the Irishman. 

“I always want hugs.” Connor kissed the top of your head. The arm around your shoulders squeezed you into his chest. And you happily obliged. Placing down your drink between your thighs to wrap your arms around his torso. Giving him a squeeze in return. 

“I always give hugs.” You replied.  Connor smiled against your temple. You could feel his fangs scratch against the underside of his lips. They were always present. A lingering reminder that he was, in fact a predator. 

He pulled away after a moment. Sliding the glass from your thighs, admittedly you didn’t mind the way his fingers wandered against the area, and gently placed it back in your hand.  “Yer want some company tonight?” Connor asked. Those crimson orbs flashing dangerously when matched with that smirk of his. “I finished my shift. And I’m not ready to end the night yet.”

You looked down at your drink. A little flustered, but you nodded and sipped the last of the amber beverage.  “Sure. Mind walking me home?” You asked. Taking up your coat and standing. 

“I’ll do one better.” Connor said. Leaving the last of his drink on the table to stand. You didn’t see him move. Your senses were suddenly filled with red and the roar of chilling wind.  Iron arms held you against a solid chest and you felt cool, but soft, lips press against your jawline. You chuckled, turning your head into Connor’s neck. Both to shield your eyes against the hurricane winds; but also tease him by peppering kisses there. All until the wind stopped howling and suddenly you were thrown forward.  You whelped, too late to grab Connor in your sudden panic. But then you felt a mattress under your body. You felt the familiar touch of your blankets and pillows as Connor crawled over the top of you and rested his body over yours. Almost crushing you against the blankets. But keeping the worse of his weight off of you.  He smiled down at you. Intertwining his hands under his chin to rest it there. 

“So, what’s the tea, doll face? What has my little human gotten into the past few weeks?”  You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. Of course, he’d do this. But yet, you settled back against the warm bed and sighed softly. Like you were thinking through your memory. 

“Oh! I have some stories from work. Wanna bitch about co-workers for a little bit?” You asked and Connor’s eyes lit up with excitement. 

“Oh sweet-heart. Yer know I love gossipin’ about co-workers. I have some real good tales for ya. But you go first. I like listening to your voice.” Connor smirked. Leaning forward to kiss the tip of your nose before settling back to listen to you. 

And that’s how your night went. Swapping stories until your eyes began to shutter close and your yawns became more frequent.  Connor, thinking this was absolutely adorable, decided to further induce your sleepy self by gliding his fingers through your hair. Gently massaging your scalp and brushing the back of his knuckles against your cheeks and eyes, having your close them. 

And with every time you had to close your eyes for his fingers to glide over them, it became harder and harder for you to keep them open.  Connor then shifted so he was laying beside you. Arm encircling your waist to hold you close while the other tracked his hand over your face and hair.  Soon, it was only him whispering to you. Lulling you to sleep as his accent transformed his words to his ancient home tongue.  You understood nothing; but his voice pulled you into sleep. And that’s how you slept. With Connor nestled in beside you whispering into your dreams. 

[7-wonders]

Mad Love

Summary: A regular evening of studying takes a sick turn when the woman you always see at the grocery store kidnaps you. Things get even crazier when you find out why: to be the bride of the Antichrist.

Word Count: 2429

A/N: TW for kidnapping, mentions of blood, injury, forced marriage, Satanism. To clear something up, I headcanon that this takes place after Mead is resurrected as a robot, and probably a few months before the actual apocalypse. Look it? Hate it? Feedback is always appreciated, and my requests are always open!

The leaves of the large oak trees rustle in the chilly breeze, and you hug your jacket closer to your body. It’s late, the sky streaked with the dark blues and purples that a sunset leaves behind. Staying as close to the streetlights as possible, you pick up your pace and hustle to your car. Under normal circumstances, you never would have parked so far away from the library, or any building, but you had already been running late and the only parking spot available felt like it was a mile away (though that’s most likely an exaggeration). The once-full parking lot is now sparse, only a few cars remaining.

You’re naturally cautious, as most women your age are in the 21st century. If you hadn’t been so eager to finish your work, you would have walked out with your friends an hour ago. Instead, you waited until the library was nearly closed to realize that it was probably a good idea to get back home, and now there was nobody to walk out with. As a result, your keys are clutched between your fingers, acting as a makeshift weapon against anybody who dares to get close to you. There’s no cars parked directly by yours, and you can feel yourself relax knowing how close you are to a hot shower and a comfy bed. Hitting the button on your key fob to unlock the car, your hand stalls on the handle when you hear a car door slam.

You hurryingly slip into your own car, locking the doors behind you. When a knock sounds on your window, you jump and whip towards the noise. A woman with cropped black hair and dark painted lips waves at you through the glass, and after you get over your fright you realize it’s only the nice woman you frequently run into at the grocery store.

“Hello, Ms. Mead.” You greet politely, rolling down the window in order to speak with her.

“Sorry to scare you like that, (Y/N).”

“It’s fine, I’d rather it be you than someone with bad intentions.” She chuckles at your joke, placing her hand on the frame of the car to steady herself.

“I hate to bother you when I know you’re on your way home, but you wouldn’t have happened to see my son in the library, did you?”

“Your son?” You question, frowning slightly.

“Adopted son, actually. He came to me under difficult circumstances, and I’ve taken him in. You’ve probably seen him at the market with me: tall, he’s got shaggy blond hair, probably wearing black?”

“Oh yeah! Michael, right?” You haven’t seen him with his ‘mother’ for a few months, not since the day before that poor butcher got stabbed at the grocery store, but he must be back now. Ms. Mead smiles and nods.

“That’s him.”

“I wish I could say I’ve seen him, but I haven’t. He might’ve been in there though; I was pretty focused on my own stuff, and didn’t look around much.”

“Guess I’ll just wait around a little longer, see if he’s one of the last to come out.” You smile sympathetically, grabbing her hand in comfort.

“I’m sure he will, don’t worry. With a mom like you, he’s bound to have a good head on his shoulders.”

“Thank you, sweet girl.” Your smile falls slightly when her grip grows stronger on your hand.

“Have a good night, Ms. Mead.” You try to take your hand back, but to no avail. Ms. Mead’s other hand moves out of the corner of your eye, and before you can react you feel a sharp pinch at your neck. You hand flies up in alarm, only to meet a syringe sticking out of you. Your limbs grow heavy, and your head lolls to the side as your vision blurs. Right before you lose consciousness, you see the woman reach to unlock the car door, a wide smile still on her face.

Your bed is extremely warm today, and you groan in dissatisfaction when you realize you’re awake. Stretching your arms above your head, you relish the feeling of the silk sheets against your sore joints. Your eyes pop open in alarm once you remember that you don’t own any silk sheets. In a flash, the events that happened before Ms. Mead stabbed you in the neck with a needle flood your memory.

Scrambling up into a sitting position, you try to figure out where you are. The bed that you’re in is large, larger than any other bed you’ve ever slept in. The black silk sheets match the heavy black comforter, a black and red color scheme being utilized throughout the entire room. The lighting is dimmed, and a large inverted star in a circle hangs on the wall across from you. Your horror at your predicament only increases when you look down and see you’re not wearing the clothes you were earlier. Instead of your jeans and sweatshirt, your body’s covered in a black slip, and the same star-and-circle shape is on a pendant around your neck.

The door opens, and a woman in a cloak enters the room.

“Oh good, you’re awake! It’s funny; that little, itty-bitty amount of serum knocks a person out for quite some time.”

“Please help me, I don’t know where I am and I need to get out of here.” You plead, shifting off of the bed to grab her arm.

“You’re right where you’re supposed to be. Don’t worry, we haven’t started the fun without our guest of honor.”

“Are you gonna kill me?” You can’t stop your lip from wobbling, the only visible sign that you’re on the verge of losing it. The woman chuckles, and you flinch when she caresses your cheek.

“Oh no, no, no! Nothing like that.” She moves to the end of the bed, opening up a trunk and pulling out a garment bag. “Let’s get you dressed; he was the one who picked this out.”

“‘He?’” You question, but the woman doesn’t answer. Instead, she unzips the bag and pulls out a dress. “What the hell is going on here?”

“Something we’ve been waiting for for a very long time.” You want to fight, to scream and run, but even if you did manage to get out of this room, you don’t even know where you are right now. So you allow yourself to be dressed, watching in the mirror as the woman fawns over you. The outfit that ‘he’ picked out is a black dress that flows to your knees. A lace overlay completes the look, sleeves extending to your elbows. It’s a beautiful gown, and in any other situation you’d be obsessed with it.

Once you’re deemed ready, you’re dragged out of the room with a firm grip on your arm. You try to find anything to help you figure out where you are, but there’s no doors or windows in the hallway you’re being led down. When the large doors ahead of you open, your mouth falls. It looks like some kind of church, with pews creating an aisle down the center of the room. The seats are filled with people, all wearing the same cloaks as the woman you first encountered. The shape that’s on the pendant you’re wearing is prevalent everywhere, whether it be the fastenings on everyone’s cloaks or the giant one suspended at the head of the room. Dully, you finally recall that the shape’s a pentagram.

You’ve been so preoccupied in dissecting everything one-by-one, that it takes you a moment to actually grasp what’s at the end of this aisle. A tall, bald man with a black goatee stands at the top of the steps, holding a thick book in his hands. On the step below him stands a figure you’re familiar with--Michael Langdon, Ms. Mead’s ‘son.’

Even so, he looks different than he did when you last saw him months ago. His hair is longer, with the ends getting close to brushing his shoulders. He’s developed a sense of fashion, replacing the cut-off shirts and Doc Martens with a tailored suit and red bottoms. Even his demeanor has changed, and he stands proudly and confidently. He’s smirking at you, eyes glinting in the light of the flaming torches that line the walls.

A firm hand on your back has you stumbling forward, arms pinwheeling in front of you to attempt to regain your balance. You spin around, hoping that you can make a break for the main doors, but you’re stopped by two very large men who weren’t there before. Knowing that you’re not going to walk willingly, they each take an arm and haul you to the front of the room. Michael’s smirk widens to a smile as he faces you, but you’re sure your face is the exact opposite.

“Michael, we don’t have to do whatever’s going to happen. Just let me go, I won’t even tell the police.” You whisper frantically, searching his eyes for some sort of remorse.

“Why would I let you go now that I finally have you?” He takes your hands in his, and a shudder runs through you.

The overwhelming question that keeps running through your brain is why me? What compelled Ms. Mead to knock you out and kidnap you, and all of these people to become willing bystanders in whatever is about to happen. Maybe I should’ve just kept my head down whenever I saw him. I shouldn’t have offered him a ride home when I saw him walking in the rain, shouldn’t have told him how nice his smile was, or that he had a good taste in music. Would he still have singled me out then?

“Dear believers,” you jump at the booming voice of the man above you, and Michael strokes his thumb over your hand in what you assume is supposed to be a comforting gesture. “We are gathered here together in the presence of our Lord Satan and the souls of the damned, to witness this most unholy matrimony between the Antichrist and his dark bride.”

A shaky gasp expels itself from your lungs as you try to comprehend what’s happening. The entire situation is ludicrous, and if it weren’t for having woken up earlier you would try to pinch yourself to see if you’re dreaming. The mere idea of being in a Satanic church, face-to-face with the fucking Antichrist who had kidnapped you in order to marry you against your will is a plot straight out of a crazy fiction novel. Unfortunately, it’s a fiction novel you’re now living in.

“‘Matrimony?’ You don’t even know me!” You hiss, attempting to rip your hands away from him. He holds you still, and draws you even closer to him.

“Oh, my darling, I know everything about you. Our souls are entwined with each other; you were made for me, sent to me by my father to be by my side.” Tears brim up in your eyes as you look out at the crowd, desperately hoping one of them will step in, put a stop to this madness, and save you. “Continue, Anton.” Michael commands.

“Michael Langdon, as the one begotten son of Satan, you are responsible with re-molding the world in His image. Of course, no one can undertake a task such as this alone, not even the Antichrist. For that, you have (Y/N) (Y/L/N). Two souls that were specially created for one another, to help support each other, to love and to cherish each other.” The man--Anton--produces a dagger from some hidden pocket in his cloak. Michael, who apparently already knows what to do, takes it from him.

“Cut my hand, (Y/N).” Michael encourages, holding the dagger’s handle towards you. “I’ll do the same to you, and this will serve as our vows.”

“What the fuck? No!” You start shaking your head in disbelief. Michael takes your chin in his hand, forcing you to look him in the eyes. You don’t know exactly what he does, but your gazes are locked on each other no matter how hard you try to look away from him.

“Take the dagger and cut my hand.” Your movements are disconnected from your mind as you take the weapon, your muscles twitching as you attempt to gain control over your body again. The skin is easily sliced open with the smallest amount of pressure, dark droplets of blood pooling in Michael’s palm.

“How did you make me do that?” You ask, Michael gripping the dagger with his non-injured hand.

“Just a simple concilium spell; I apologize for having to use magic on you, but I promise that it’ll be worth it.” He grins, quickly slicing your own palm. You hiss at the sting of the air on your cut, Michael placing his injury against yours. The feeling of hot, sticky blood mixing together on your palm has your skin crawling. The torches flicker before going out with a whoosh, yet the room remains lit with a red glow that you can’t find the source of.

A ring appears in Michael’s hand, and before you can protest he’s slipped it on your ring finger. It’s a delicate silver band, a blood-red diamond sitting in the center of it. The cuts have both healed, dried blood being the only remaining sign that you were ever injured in the first place. Tears roll down your face while the audience cheers and the torches relight themselves.

“The vows have been completed and Satan has voiced his approval for this union. By the power vested in me by our Dark Lord, I pronounce you husband and wife.” Michael’s ecstatic at Anton’s declaration, smirking towards his loyal followers.

“May I...kiss you?” For the first time tonight, he’s hesitant. You’re completely in shock and shaking like a leaf, not even comprehending what he’s just said. Michael takes your lack of an answer as a ‘yes,’ slowly leaning in towards you and placing a chaste kiss on the corner of your mouth. It’s a gentle gesture, one that doesn’t seem like Michael at all.

“M-Michael.” You stutter, tears turning to heaving sobs as the reality of this situation sets in. Michael smiles at you sadly, taking his time to kiss the drops of water off of your face.

“Don’t worry, (Y/N). You’ll learn to accept your role in the New World, just as I have.” Your chest heaves, breathing without managing to take in any air. “I love you, so much, and you’re going to love me too.”

Tag List: @sammythankyou @queencocoakimmie @let-me-try-mom @pastel-cloudz @sebastianshoe @nana15774 @lichellaw @ultragibbycentralworld @grim-adventures58 @dandycandy75 @trimbooohgodplsnoooo @alexcornerblog @everything-is-awesomesauce @tickled--pinkmoodpoisoning @ccodyfern @jimmlangdon @dolceandchalamet

[stedes-black-bonnet]

My Baby Does Me: Chapter 1

POV: John Deacon x reader

Notes: There’s also Y/N’s best friend, who is a love interest for Roger Taylor; if there’s interest, I could write sections from her POV This will be an on-going fic. I’ll try to update weekly, if not more frequently. Message me with anything. Always willing to chat.

Warnings: swearing, drinking, self-esteem issues(?) fluff for days! Later, it will get steamy AF.

Abstract: Your best friend meets Roger Taylor at a club, and he invites her (and you) to a Queen party.

“You’ll never guess who I met!” Your best friend, Lydia, screeched. Running into your bedroom.

You sat at your piano. You had been under pressure to learn a rather difficult Liszt piece for your senior showcase. Your showcase, you knew, would be one of the most important days of your life; agents and scouts from symphonies, touring companies, theaters, clubs from all around Europe would be there seeking the next big star, the next virtuoso to join their ranks. You were humble, but very gifted in music. And you always had been. Music came as easily to you as dreaming did to others. Music was your life, and Lydia knew it was only a matter of time before you hit it big and became somebody.

You had been practicing like an obsessed shut-in for weeks. Lydia kept trying to pull you away from your “hermit cave,” as she had taken to calling it. She’d rush in and interrupt your work. You loved her and had been friends for years, but your lives were taking you in different directions and you hoped you’d both find a way to maintain your closeness even if you were separated by great distances. She’d erupt into your room, and you’d be absorbed in your music, the rhythms, the sounds; playing scores, you’d teleport to places you’d never been, times you’d never seen, you’d feel everything the musician had put into his or her works. You came alive, you became irresistible, incandescent. However, since you were so caught up in the moment when you played, this was never anything you knew, or experienced or saw for yourself. Your piano your solace away from the world.

“Hello!? Y/N, can you hear me?” Lydia waved a hand in front of your face.

“Sorry, yes. What did you say?” You sounded far away even to yourself. You saw a crease appear in Lydia's forehead, half-concern, half-irritation. You took a breath and painted a smile on your understatedly beautiful face. Taking your glasses off, you said, “I’m sorry I’ve been so preoccupied lately. I want to make it up to you.” You reached out and touched Lydia's shoulder to hammer the point home. The flowery, flowy shirt under your hands slipped out of your grasp as she took your hand in hers.

“I met someone tonight.” Lydia squeezed your hand to make sure you were really all there.

“Oh?” You had never seen Lydia like this before. Upon closer inspection, you noticed she was flushed, jittery, and unequivocally giddy. “What’s going on?”

“He’s a certain blond rock-god.”

“Get out of here!” You took your hand out of Lydia’s with a laugh, and turned back to your piano. Your friend had pulled this prank many times before. She was into Roger Taylor like most people were into skydiving; everything for her was an extreme sport, she never half-assed anything. It was one of the things you liked most about her; she was all passion and she had the confidence to be loud about it. You wished you had her effortless peacock-esque flare, her showy charm, and, god, she had the best hair of anyone you had ever met: wheat-colored, falling to her waist in easy beach waves. Your own hair was coarse, stubborn, thick and black like the music notes you scanned continuously.

“Y/N! I’m serious! I met Roger Taylor at a club tonight! Queen is back and he invited me to a party tomorrow night! You have to come with me! Please?”

You searched your friend’s face for a sign of duplicity, and to your surprise and delight, found none. “Okay...you’re telling me you ran into Roger Taylor at a club and he invited you to a party tomorrow night?”

“Yes!”

You knew you should stay home and practice this etude, but the allure of a celebrity party called you, and you knew you weren’t powerful enough to ignore the siren call of the most talented musicians rock ‘n roll had to offer.

“Roger. Taylor.” You smirked.

“Roger fucking Taylor.” Lydia grinned at you. You stared at each other, both starting to giggle at the absurdity of it all.

“I’ll go with you,” you smiled up at your friend, “though I have no idea how we are going to pick what to wear with only a day’s notice!”

“I know, right?!”

“What was he like? Roger?” You asked, making your way to the closet.

“Shameless flirt. Great style, though. He had this hat on, ugh I swear! the hat alone made me pregnant.” Lydia’s laugh gonged around the room.

“Was he alone?” You tried to sound as innocently nonchalant as possible, but Lydia knew you well enough to know what you were getting at; she never let you get away with anything. You saw the steely glint in her eyes and knew what was coming.

“Don’t you mean, ‘was a certain bassist there?’”

You instantly blushed a deep crimson, the same color as the t-shirt you were wearing. You hid your head in your hands and groaned loudly. Your head crashed onto the keys of the piano, and a clanging chord rang out sympathetically, as if your piano knew your embarrassment, too. You had a certain weak spot for John Deacon; Lydia always said the best friends had different tastes in potential partners. If you had different tastes, you’d never fight over who got someone, who saw whom first, who had a claim. In this respect, your friendship was sheer perfection.

“He wasn’t there, but Roger did say something like ‘If you come to this party, I’ll be able to show you off to the band--beauty like yours should be shared’ or something like that anyway.” She tried to sound casual.

“Roger Taylor said that to you?” You looked at Lydia, in a blouse and jeans, she was glistening. Not even a stitch of makeup on her face, and the most famous drummer in the world was smitten with her. What hope did you have of being noticed, you wondered? You frowned, looking down at the familiar keys.

Lydia read some of this in your face and sat next to you. “Y/N, you know you’re gorgeous. I know--before you start--I know you think I’m supposed to say that because I’m your friend. But you know I don’t just say things to please anyone. I’m just not made that way, I’m too honest. You’re beautiful. I know you don’t always believe it. I hope you do someday. Or at the very least, that you’d trust your best friend wouldn’t lie to you. We’ve known each other forever. You’re the most talented person I know; you never had to work hard at school, you’ve always been able to do whatever you put your mind to, you can play any instrument you pick up. You are so worth knowing and loving. That, and you’re the sneakiest person I know, with the most uncanny wit.”

“So, I have a great personality? I’m the great personality girl?” You asked, with a sarcastic smile.

“You know what I mean! I’m just a pretty face,” Lydia said, “and that’s all I’ll ever be; you have a pretty face and a brain; you’re lucky.”

This is why you kept Lydia around; she was selflessly loyal, and always knew what to say to trick you out of an emotional black hole. She didn’t think much of her mind, but only someone truly keen could weave together words into self-confidence. “Come on, let’s pick out options for tomorrow night.” You hugged her tight, and you knew she was satisfied.

***

You settled, with help, on an olive-green dress, the same color as your eyes. It wrapped around your body, highlighting your waist, and your hourglass curves. You didn’t yet understand the kind of power your body had over people; you felt out of proportion constantly, too short to have your sweet ass and flashy chest. You’d have to buy shirts that were too large, pants that were too baggy, too long because they just didn’t make close for shorter people that weren’t shaped like teenage boys. And a teenage boy, you weren’t! You had the body to prove it. You always looked a little under-tailored because of it, a little accidentally shabby. This dress, however, was a rare exception in your closet. It created a great V-neck to expose just a pleasant hint of your breasts, and did little to obscure the geography of your round ass. Your arms, you were secure with more than any other part of your body; from hours at the piano, holding your arms up, they were toned and tattooed. The sleeves of the wrap-dress covered the colorful art and words you had painstakingly chosen for yourself. You felt incognito when you hid the tattoos, like you always had a secret up your sleeve, an extra card to play, a slight mystique to add to the atmosphere most people never expected to come from a self-confessed nerd like you. You adjusted your large glasses, and reapplied your lip-gloss. Looking in the mirror you adjusted your bangs, squeezing clumps of your hair to make the natural ringlets sing. You had added to the outfit, at your instance, black spangled tights, and black heeled oxfords. Maybe a little dated, but they made you feel good, and that’s what mattered most. You checked your light makeup, glitter-blush and thin foundation was all you felt inclined to do. Lydia said she’d help you do more, but you refused; if you had to change who you were to impress someone, they weren’t worth it.

Lydia came around the corner and poked her head in the doorway, “You ready?” She was wearing a dark red dress that kissed her body to the floor. She was fully clothed but looked naked at the same time; she was a true diva and you had no idea how she did it. All silk and lush hues, she was ready to stop anyone and everyone dead in their tracks. Her hair was half up on her head in a way that looked planed and like a happy accident simultaneously. Her lips, full of daring, were lacquered cherry-red. She had a gold chain around her neck, dropping to her navel; she could have been a movie star.

You looked at yourself in the mirror again, your dress seemed demure by comparison now, and you were second-guessing everything. Was a high-low wrap dress the way to go to a Queen party? Was the color terrible? Was going at all a mistake? You twisted the large statement ring on your finger.

“Y/N?! You look stunning! Perfectly engineered to destroy any room you step into.”

You sighed, “Okay, you’re right; Let’s do this, or I never will.”

Lydia waved down a taxi. She told the driver the address Roger had given her, and off you went. The taxi sped along the night, and you wished the anticipation of arriving could last forever. The going to a party was almost as exciting as the arriving at the party itself. The feeling of possibility, of not knowing what was to come, and yet knowing anything could happen was intoxicating. You felt a shiver run up your spine. You were happy to be here with your best friend on the edge of limitless opportunities. Eventually, the taxi stopped and you paid the fee.

You and Lydia left the taxi and approached the door, and a man stood outside; he had the unmistakable air of security. He scrutinized you and Lydia. “Names?” He asked, lazily. You noticed he had list with him, and suddenly worried if you’d be allowed in or not.

“Lydia Taylor,” your friend said, not missing a beat.

The guard laughed to himself.

“Hey, wishful thinking pays off, mister.” Lydia flipped her hair, and you knew the guard was under her spell, too. “Lydia Wesmor, and I brought my friend with me. Y/N L/N,” she hooked elbows with you.

“Well, Lydia Taylor and Y/N, enjoy yourselves.” He gave you a slight smile and stepped aside.

As you and Lydia entered the vast townhouse, you saw glimpses of room after room decorated in splendor and--well, if classy ostentation exists, it somehow does in this space. High ceilings, rich window hangings, art adorned the walls, and sculptures, too many to count, and probably priceless in worth, decorated the rooms in view. Balloons and streamers cascaded floor to ceiling over a large, full bar, manned by a pleasant-looking man with a safe-looking disposition and mustache. One wall had a largest in-home aquarium you’d ever seen. One room, had large bookshelves with black and white photos on the walls. Every room you peaked snippets of had healthy plants, clearly lovingly cared for by the owner. And those were only the rooms you could see from the main one you entered into. More rooms were blocked by people, costumed and coiffed to perfection. You felt like you had stepped into a dream, and you never wanted it to end. For a brief moment you had to remind yourself this was real, and happening to you.

One room had a fantastic grand piano, and you felt your heart being pulled towards it, but you didn’t want to lose sight of Lydia, who was heading for the bar. So, you turned, and followed her, pushing past people lightly to keep pace.

“Lydia, have you ever seen a place like this? It’s like Valhalla!”

The man at the bar smiled.

“Can you speak English please, Y/N?” Lydia laughed with you; she wasn’t as well-read as you, but there was just no other way to describe this wonderful party unfolding before your eyes.

“It’s magical. Truly majestic.”

“Now, that I’ll agree to.” Lydia smiled at the man at the bar. “Could we have two appletinis and one Roger Taylor?” She added a wink.

“If I were straight, I wouldn’t even let him near you; I’d whisk you away myself.” The man said matter-of-factly.

“Ooh, you’re definitely a catch! I’m Lydia--the soon-to-be wife of Roger Taylor.”

“Does he know yet?” the man asked, mixing your drinks.

“No, but he will.”

“I’m Jim,” he grinned at Lydia, laughing at her tenacity, and then he looked at you. “What’s your name?”

“Y/N. It’s nice to meet you, Jim.”

“You’re right about the house.” He said, “We will have to give you the full tour later, as host--well, one of the hosts--it’s my duty to make sure someone as appreciative and scrumptious as you gets the full experience.” He passed you your drinks. Normally, this kind of attention made you nervous, but from Jim, it was so well-meaning, so genuine, you found yourself thinking whoever had partnered with him could only be the luckiest man on earth.

“That’d be great!” You liked Jim instantly; he was easy to talk to, kind-eyed, and, after a sip of your drink, knew he could make a killer cocktail.

“So, divide and conquer?” Lydia asked.

You felt comfortable with Jim, and knew if you wanted to pass the entire party here, chatting with him, you’d have an enjoyable time; you nodded at Lydia, “Yeah, you go on; I’ll be fine here, and I’m sure I’ll get braver with this,” you waved your cocktail in your hand like a conductor, “I’ll get brave enough to explore and mingle.”

“Okay; be safe.” Lydia pressed her hand to yours briefly, and slinked away, a woman on a mission.

You watched her go, and before you could turn back to Jim, across the room, you saw him. John Deacon.

You locked eyes with him, and just like that, you forgot how to breathe.

What you didn’t know, was that he forgot how to breathe, too.