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#‘on my list’ I say as if I don’t have like seventeen thousand things to read
tbcanary · 1 year
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have you ever done any huntress 1989 edits? sorry if i've already asked this before!
i have NOT mostly bc i haven’t read it yet 🫣 it is absolutely on my list, though, so those’ll doubtless be coming along soon. alternately, if you’d like something a little sooner that doesn’t require me actually reading the comic, i can put some icons and such together!
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the-boy-meets-evil · 5 months
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not according to plan | hjs (teaser)
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summary: your ex-fiance is getting married and everyone you know is going to be there. when he calls to ask if you're coming, you accidentally mention a boyfriend. which would be fine, if you weren't very single. thankfully your best friend comes through with the perfect solution when he sets you up with a friend of his.
pairing: joshua x f.reader genre: fake dating, strangers to ?? | fluff, slight angst, smut rating: explicit (in the full fic), minors DNI word count: ~1.1k in this teaser (full fic ~22k) notes: johnny suh as the ex (sorry!), also includes other idols not in seventeen solely as face claims, there's a heavy focus on the fake dating, mentions of food & drink, warnings to be added to the final fic fic post date: friday, april 26th (full fic here)
a/n: i started this legit months ago as kind of a joke, talking about it with @shuadotcom but it's finally done (and a lot longer than i anticipated).
thank you to: @wonwussy & @kwanisms who read over this for me (too long ago), and to @cheolism @wooahaeproductions @hannieween, & sj for all the brainstorming help along the way. tagging: @aaniag @gyuminusone @crepecakeu
if you'd like to be tagged in this fic (or any of my fics), comment, click here for my tag list, or send an ask 💕
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You still think this is a terrible idea, yet agree to meet Jeonghan’s friend, Joshua, anyway. Apparently, he’s somewhat new to the area, doesn’t know many people, and is incredibly easy to be around. There’s no mention of why Jeonghan thinks he might be willing to pretend to be your boyfriend. A part of you wonders if your friend even told him, but he’s not that cruel. So, whatever the case, Joshua must at least have some idea of what he’s walking into. 
Several days pass between the nightmare of a call from Johnny and you actually meeting Joshua, which only adds to your anxiety about whether or not this is going to work. Johnny is asking for a name for the seating chart and for dinner selections. Your mom wants to know when they’ll be able to meet this new boyfriend before the wedding (because “meeting him for the first time at a wedding is gauche” and we wouldn’t want that). Your sister is convinced that he doesn’t actually exist since you haven’t posted him on social media. That you can at least answer to say that not everyone posts their entire life online like she does. It doesn’t seem to allay her suspicions, though. 
Then, there’s the fact that you’re actually meeting Joshua for the first time at dinner. All you wanted was to go for coffee, yet he insisted. You couldn’t exactly press the point. Not when you’re planning to ask this stranger to pretend to date you just so that you can avoid the embarrassment at your ex’s wedding. On top of that, because Jeonghan really is a demon at his core, you don’t know what Joshua looks like. Don’t know who to look for. Which leads to you doing the only sensible thing and showing up 5 minutes late for dinner, hoping that he’ll already be at the table when you get there.
It works.
When you give the reservation name at the host stand, you’re immediately led back to a table. Without even thinking about it, you smooth your hands down the front of your dress, looking for a small amount of comfort in this situation. It’s not even that you struggle around new people, this is just…well, it’s a lot. It’s out of anyone’s comfort zone. Whatever you’re expecting, it’s not the man sitting at the table the host leads you to. He nearly stops you in your tracks. 
His black hair is perfectly styled down to the pieces on one side that come down over his forehead. The black dress shirt he wears is open at least one button too many, but he makes the exposed chest look work in a way models would envy. Even though his pants are black as well, he makes it look classic and effortless, rather than too dark. That’s all without even acknowledging the soft smile on his face. This man would break a thousand hearts without even saying a damn word. While you’re appreciating him, you miss the way his eyes rake over you appreciatively. Miss the way his eyes trace your curves and the way the dress clings to you. 
In one fluid motion, he’s standing up to greet you, a gentle kiss placed on your cheek. Is it weird if your knees are a little weak? Well, even if it is, there’s nothing you can do. You’re completely captivated. 
“You must be Joshua,” you say. Brilliant, you think. That’s obvious.
“It’s nice to meet you. Jeonghan had nothing but good things to say,” he answers with another smile as he pulls your seat out for you. 
“I feel like he hardly told me about you,” you respond. Joshua raises a perfect eyebrow at that.
“Then why did you agree to go out with me?” Joshua asks. 
“Go out with…is this a date?” The question comes tumbling out. 
Joshua’s eyes widen in genuine confusion. “Is it not?” 
“What, exactly, did Jeonghan say to you?” 
A lot and nothing at all, it turns out. Joshua tells you about how he’s somewhat new to the area, which you knew. About how he met Jeonghan through work, kind of. They work in the same building doing very different things and happened to run into each other getting coffee a handful of times before Jeonghan introduced himself. The two had hung out several times, something Jeonghan had not really mentioned, and gotten to know each other over drinks more than once. The very first time, Jeonghan had mentioned you and Joshua admits immediately being intrigued without pressing for more information. 
In any case, Jeonghan talked about you pretty freely, a fact that’s hardly surprising. Before Joshua texted you, Jeonghan had mentioned, in what Joshua calls an offhand way, that you were sick of dating the same people. According to Joshua, through Jeonghan, you were looking to possibly be set up. (Read: Jeonghan thinks he’s crafty and isn’t going to come out and tell this man what you’re really looking for. Typical Jeonghan, honestly. You know that “offhand comment” was anything but. And you had the audacity to think Jeonghan would have to tell Joshua what he’s getting into. Rookie move.)
Now you’re in a bit of an awkward situation because this man is honestly gorgeous, one of the prettiest humans you’ve ever met. And, already, he seems like he might be sweet with a pretty good sense of humor. It’s just…well, you’re absolutely not looking for a relationship and this is the last person you want to get involved in your mess. Thankfully, you get a moment to catch your breath when someone comes by to take a drink order and suggest an appetizer. It’s just enough time for you to talk yourself into telling Joshua the real story.
To his credit, he only looks mildly surprised as you outline your whole situation, inform him that yes, Jeonghan does know all of this, and clarify why you didn’t actually realize it was a date. It’s hard to miss the way his eyes seem to sparkle a bit when you also admit that he’s absolutely stunning in a way that hurts your feelings. Easier to miss is the way his face barely falls when you say that you’re not actually looking for something right now. Interesting. 
“So that’s the whole thing and now that I’ve embarrassed myself in front of you, I’m sure you’ll understand if we never see each other after tonight,” you finish.
“How am I supposed to go to a wedding as your boyfriend in a matter of weeks if we don’t see each other after tonight?” Joshua wonders.
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let me know if you want to be tagged when i post the full fic next week 💕 (and what you think so far)
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Seven Seconds: Part One
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~2.2k
Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill
Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there is any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated
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"Nothing is easier than to denounce the evil doer; Nothing more difficult than understanding him." - Fyodor Dostoevsky
Child abductions are one of the worst things a human being can do, but you thrive in those environments. You can usually find the child easily because their energies are pure and will lead you to them. However, the abductions usually happen in a smaller setting like a house or even a school...
This one just so happens to be in a fucking mall where there are thousands of people here. Your team was called to assist as soon as the child was reported missing twenty minutes ago. The good thing about this is you can always spot the perpetrator since they love to insert themselves into the investigations. Plus, they have to pretend like they're sad about this, which means they're lying to everyone, which means you can spot them even easier.
This case is meant for someone like you.
Your entire team gets to the mall quickly since you're only an hour from the crime. The local police are currently there as well to help out where they can.
"I'm James Franklin," James introduces himself when you get there. "I'm the Director of the Bureau's Rapid Deployment Team. We've been in lockdown for almost twenty minutes. My team's already in motion."
There was another kidnapping a week ago from the same location. Jessica Davis lost her life, and the killer hadn't been caught. You don't know if it's connected, but that's what you're here to find out.
"Another female, same age, same time of day, and taken from essentially the same location," Emily points out.
"What makes you sure Katie Jacobs is still in the building?" you ask James.
"The mall's got cameras installed at every entrance and exit. Surveillance video confirms Katie entering the building, but no sign of her leaving. Security paged her over the intercom, and their initial sweep came up empty."
"Whoever killed Jessica Davis last week left that mall with her because he wanted time with his victim in privacy. Assuming it's the same offender, he wouldn't stray from his MO. He wouldn't leave here without his victim."
"If Katie is here, then her abductor is still here." You turn to Hotch with a determined look. "I'll be able to tell you who did it."
"Good. Garcia, report to the mall's security office. Reid, Morgan, I want you to find the head of security. We need all data from every search team. You guys start with Katie's parents," Hotch says to you, Emily, and JJ. "We'll treat the mall like a neighborhood, and we'll separate into areas of control. Come on."
This may not be the biggest mall in Virginia, but it is one of the most popular ones. Still, it's pretty big with a hundred and seventeen stores, sixty-nine storage closets, seventy-three dressing rooms, six men and women's restrooms, seven restaurants each with separate kitchens, four elevators, and exits to the rooftop via the north and south stairwells. On top of all that, there is a whole underbelly beneath your feet. Boiler rooms, air ducts, and a subterranean level.
Every team got a copy of the map, but the reality of the situation is that it'll take at least three hours to cover the basics of the entire mall. Realistically, you only have half that time to find Katie.
Ninety-nine percent of abducted children who are killed died within the first twenty-four hours, seventy-five percent are killed within the first three hours, and forty-four percent are killed within the first hour. Jessica Davis joined that forty-four percent group, so if you have any hope of finding Katie alive, then you have about an hour to find her so she doesn't fall into that category.
Penelope knows more about cameras than anyone else on the team, which is why she is the perfect person for the job. She needs every inch of surveillance footage so she can examine it frame by frame to see if there is anything in the background that the police or security has missed. If you want to find Katie alive, then Penelope is going to do her very best to search for her.
Penelope didn't find much, but she did look into one of the cameras outside of the arcade. Katie is clearly shown in the video, but the video image is so poor that everything else is too blurry... including the person Katie is with. She could start the process to enhance the image, but no one has that kind of time.
The best thing you can do as a person and as an FBI agent is to be where the crowd is. You'll be able to rule out any suspects, determine who is innocent and who is guilty, and hopefully, locate the abductor. You, Emily, and JJ walk toward the general public, and you pause when you feel something creep up your spine. There is something trying to tell you that something isn't right here.
You look over the crowd at the different faces. Most people are in their own little world since they have no clue what is going on. Some are too bored to care, and then there are others holding their own children so they don't run off.
"What's wrong?" Emily asks you.
"The unsubs are here. I can feel them."
"Unsubs? As in more than one? How do you know that?"
"Because there is confusion and panic coming from everyone. And out of everyone here, there are two people who are unusually calm."
"Katie was last seen by her cousin in the arcade about twenty-five minutes ago," an officer interrupts. "She was wearing jeans, a green shirt, gray sneakers, and ponytails. We also have a list of registered offenders located within a forty-five-mile radius."
"Okay, run this against current and former employees as well," Emily says. The officer nods and leaves, and Emily turns back to you. "What do you mean by two people? Who?"
"Them."
You gesture to them with your head. Katie's parents, Beth and Paul, are crying and freaking out like any other parent would. However, Katie's aunt and uncle, Richard and Susan, are beside them acting like they are scared. Susan is unusually calm about this entire thing, and Richard is more scared than panicked. Scared for himself, that is.
"They're Katie's aunt and uncle," JJ says.
"You're suggesting family members can't be predators to their own family? Look, I don't have proof, obviously, but I know what I feel and what I see. They have something to do with it. Looks can be deceiving, so don't let them lie to you."
You three head over to Katie's parents, but your eyes are locked onto Richard. Susan is also a suspect in your book, but Richard seems like he has dark secrets. You know he is hiding something dark, you don't know what it is just yet.
"Hi. We're agents Jareau, Y/N, and Prentiss with the BAU. You two must be Katie's aunt and uncle. This can't be easy. We're here to walk you through this."
Hotch walks away from his group and heads over to you three, but you don't look away from Richard. You cross your arms over your chest to make it look like you know their secret. Richard tries not to look at you, but his wife isn't so shy about telling you off.
"Why are you looking at my husband like that?"
"Just thinking, ma'am."
You look away from Richard and focus on the issue at hand. If you want to prove that Richard and Susan are your unsubs, then it would do you and Katie no good to call them out. You have to build a case first, so you have to stay silent about this for a little while longer.
"So, when you and your cousin were going in and out of stores, did anybody try to talk to her?" Emily asks Jeremy, Richard and Susan's son and Katie's cousin.
"I don't think so."
"Did somebody maybe compliment her hair or open the door for you guys?"
"He wasn't exactly paying attention," Richard scoffs.
"Yes, I was."
"You'd think after all my years in retail, I'd hate the mall, but it was convenient," Susan sighs.
"She was right next to me, I swear," Jeremy says, but his parents are paying any attention to them.
"Then we split up, because I--I had to shop for my husband's birthday," Susan continues. "I should have stayed near the kids. Now I wish we never left the house this morning.
"That's when you got lost in that video game, right?" Richard asks his son.
"This isn't fair."
You need to get Jeremy away from his parents if you're going to get the whole story from him.
"You know, this may all be a mistake. Katie might just be lost, maybe in some bookstore or something. She loves to read. You know, she could just be in a corner, just, you know--or maybe playing dress-up in a store or something," Richard stutters.
"This image was captured moments before your nephew reported Katie missing," JJ says, showing the image that Penelope was trying to work with.
It's very grainy and hard to see, but it's what you have right now.
"Oh, god," Paul sighs sadly.
"I know the angle's limited, but is there anything or anyone in the frame that you recognize?" Hotch asks.
"No. No. Katie has asthma. She needs her inhaler," Beth whimpers.
"H-how could someone have just taken her in front of all those people?"
"That's what we're trying to figure out," you state.
"How do you plan on doing that?"
You could tell him what you can do, but that might upset Richard and Susan into killing Katie. You don't know where she is, but you do know that she is alive.
"We're retracing Katie's steps. We're going over surveillance footage. We're searching every crack and crevice under this roof."
"I want to be out there looking for my girl."
"I'd want to be doing the same thing, but when an abduction is reported, the parents are debriefed separately. It's more efficient that way," Hotch says.
"Hotch, can I talk to you?" you say and gesture to the side. He excuses himself as you two go off to the side. "I know this is too early to determine, but you need to keep an eye on Susan and Richard."
"What do you see?"
"I'll bet my entire career that they're both the unsubs. Out of everyone here, they're the only calm ones as if they know something we don't. Susan is showing fake concern--I see it all over her body. I know I don't have proof, but I will work on getting it. I'll have to talk to Jeremy away from his parents. I'd like to go to the arcade to see what really happened."
"I trust you," he nods. "I'll keep an eye on them."
You leave his side and approach Emily before tapping on her shoulder.
"Hotch gave me permission to talk to Jeremy away from his parents. I'm going to meet Spencer and Derek at the arcade. I'll let you know when I'd like for you to bring him over here."
"You got it."
You leave the group and head straight to the arcade which is thankfully, on the same floor as everyone else. Derek and Spencer are there already talking to each other. When they see you, they break up their conversation.
"So she and her cousin came in here about thirty minutes ago, and that was the last time anyone saw Katie?" you ask them.
"That's right. Ten minutes after the assault is generally the molester's lowest point of self-esteem," Spencer says.
"He could be panicking right about now, realizing he's got a witness."
"Yeah, I doubt it," you say.
"Richard Allen Davis strangled Polly Klaas just to prevent her from identifying him," Spencer says.
"Yeah, well, I met our unsubs, and they don't really seem fazed by all this. I believe our unsubs are Richard and Susan, Katie's aunt and uncle. I need proof, which is why I'm here now. Hopefully, with Jeremy, I'll be able to paint a picture."
"A single abduction like this would normally be classified as a snatch-and-grab, but with the Jessica Davis abduction, it's more likely we're dealing with a preferential offender whose victims fall into a particular type. He came to this mall knowing what he was looking for because he feels safe here, familiar with his surroundings."
"Emily, you can bring Jeremy over," you say over the earpiece. Moments later, Emily brings over the kid before leaving you three to talk to him. "Jeremy, we asked your mom and dad if we could talk privately. Thought it might be easier that way."
"Because my dad thinks this is my fault," he sighs and takes a seat at a nearby table.
"No. Jeremy, your dad is just super upset right now because in times like this, people get really emotional," Spencer says, taking a seat across from him.
You don't comment on what he said because you don't want to upset or worry Jeremy over something he can't control.
"Hey, kid, the moments right before a kidnapping like this are the most important. You gotta understand you're the only one who can help us with that."
"But... I can't remember."
"Jeremy, all we need is the last thing Katie did or said before you realized she was gone."
Jeremy starts to think about it, but the more he does, the more he panics. His breathing picks up, clearly showing the signs that he's having a panic attack.
"I can't breathe," he gasps.
"He's having a panic attack," you jump into action. You sink to your knees and place your hand on his back. "You're okay, Jeremy. Put your head between your knees, okay? It'll help." You guide him to the position you want him in, and you rub his back to comfort him. "Just take deep breaths for me."
This is going to take some time, you can't rush something like this.
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stillwill76 · 1 year
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Alright, I know April’s almost over but as it is still Autism Acceptance Month, I wanted to talk a little about it. Just wanted to share what being autistic is like for me and some of my special interests.
I was diagnosed with ASD and ADHD when I was 8 years old. Back then, I was technically diagnosed with Asperger’s syndrome but that was merged into ASD in 2011 so I’ll just refer to it as ASD. Anyway, I didn’t really know what that meant until I was seventeen and actually did some research. Learning that a bunch of my behaviors and certain feelings I had were actually because I was autistic was…. I don’t know, relieving? Things started to make more sense. Before this point, all I knew was that I didn’t understand social cues and I was very specific about what I liked and disliked. It did not help that I was also on ADHD medication that exacerbated the negative parts of autism. Since that day, I’ve learned so much more about myself and I learn new things about autism everyday. I’m not angry or upset that I’m autistic. I was (and still kinda am) mad at the people who didn’t explain it to me properly when I was younger but that’s beside the point. I’ve learned to accept it and I’m a lot happier because of it. I don’t need people to be aware of me. I just need people to accept me.
Okay, that was a lot. Hmm. Anyway, SPECIAL INTERESTS, LET’S GO!!!! 😃
My primary special interests are manga, anime, and video games. And within those special interests are even MORE special interests. For example, some of the manga I have a huge interest in include Bleach, One Piece, Fullmetal Alchemist and Jujutsu Kaisen. There’s a lot more but there are too many list. On the flip side, the anime I like differs slightly. I don’t always like anime adaptations of manga I like. For example, I really don’t care for either the Bleach or One Piece adaptations (Bleach TYBW is the exception). There are certain scenes from each that I really enjoy watching and they both have great soundtracks and great voice acting in both the original Japanese and the english dubs, but weird choices that differ from the source material and huge pacing issues make them hard for me to watch. On the other hand, there are certain adaptations that I prefer to the source material, such as Demon Slayer or Mob Psycho 100. These two in particular take the original material and enhance it greatly. What’s more, there are certain series where I really like both the original manga and the anime (Chainsaw Man and Jujutsu Kaisen to name a couple). Also, I love original anime, like Space Dandy, Oddtaxi, Gurren Lagaan, Appare Ranman, and Vivy: Flourite Eyes Song. It’s really cool to see original content in a medium that is primarily adaptations.
Starting a new paragraph for video games. This might be my big special interest. RPGs, Metroidvanias, platformers, action games, puzzle games, party games, etc. I really love video games. Favorite series include but are not limited too: Mario, The Legend of Zelda, Kingdom Hearts, Pokémon, and Xenoblade Chronicles. In case you couldn’t tell, I’m a big Nintendo person. If I had to pick a genre, I’d say RPGs are my favorite, whether they are turned based or action oriented. My top three favorite games of all time are Paper Mario: The Thousand-Year Door, The Legend of Zelda: The Wind Waker, and Kingdom Hearts II. Favorite Pokémon generation is three though Scarlet is my current favorite game. I could go on about how I love different combat and level up systems in different games, how I love that the sidequests in the Xenoblade games add to the worldbuilding and give them so much depth, how I love watching videos analyzing background lore in games like Hollow Knight or Breath of the Wild or videos going into detail about how dark series like Kirby or Splatoon are, or how even though the story is insanely stupid I adore Kingdom Hearts for how sincere it is. But I feel like this has gone a bit longer than I originally intended.
Anyway, a couple of notes really quick about Autism Acceptance Month and autism in general:
Don’t support Autism Speaks. They are a hate group focused on trying to “cure” autism.
Don’t use the puzzle piece when talking about autism. It is ableist. Use either the gold infinity symbol for autism or the rainbow infinity symbol for neurodiversity.
Vaccinations don’t cause autism. Whoever came up with that can burn in hell.
I think that’s everything. If whoever is reading this is autistic, I hope you had a great Autism Acceptance Month.
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blubushie · 1 year
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GOOD MORNING BLU, LEAFANON HERE! GIVE US SOME MUSIC RECOMMENDATIONS!
So I typed up a whole response to this, hit undo by accident, and lost it all. Terribly sorry, leafanon. Let's try to do this over.
I HOPE YOU LIKE COUNTRY 'CAUSE BOY DO I HAVE A LOT OF IT.
First on this list is Luke Combs’ Where the Wild Things Are. I’ve been listening to his song on repeat for the past two days and I love it. It hits something in my heart I suppose? I can definitely relate to it. Not only does the verse “American Spirit hanging out of his mouth, just like our daddy” hit me because American Spirit (the blue pack) is my choice of cigarette when I’m in the States (and red Winnies in Oz), but my parents also wanted me to stay in California, so the verses “He kickstarted that bike one night and broke mama’s heart. He pointed that headlight west, out where the wild things are” really strike home with me because I absolutely did break their hearts when I left. This song is faintly hinted at in the upcoming Chapter 11, but blink and you’ll miss it!
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I also get emotional at the very end verses of the song, “We buried him out in the wind ‘neath the West Coast stars, out where the wild things are” because I want to be buried in Australia. I don’t want my body transported back to the States to waste away on some plot of land in a California cemetery and be forgotten about after a few generations. I want my ashes to be spread from the summit of Table Top at Kakadu, where the wild things are. Let the land remember me, because in a thousand years no one else will.
The next song is another Luke Combs song, You Found Yours.
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“Age of seventeen, you worked all summer long washing cars and pulling weeds from your neighbour’s lawn. Well, it wasn’t no King Ranch, but she was paid for. When you find that kinda freedom, buddy, you found yours.” Story of Matilda right there. I worked graveyard for two years to afford a hard-loved ’99 Ford ute. One year for the ute, and another year for the cabin plus some extra cash for stability. Dad helped me fix her up and I went east for six months, taking jobs out in New Mexico, Texas, and Oklahoma. Came back with my wanderlust worse than ever and got Matilda on the first boat out of San Francisco to Australia.
Next is Where I Find God by Larry Fleet. “That day out on the water, when the fish just wouldn’t bite, I put my pole down and I floated around. It was just so quiet. And I could hear my old man saying, ‘Son, just be still, ‘cause you can’t find peace like this in a bottle or a pill.’” Saying I sympathise with that is the understatement of the bloody century.
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Now for my favourite song (besides Waltzing Matilda) by my favourite bush bard! It’s Old Dingo by Slim Dusty!
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Little-known fact about me: I’m a part-time dogger. When someone has an issue with a particular individual or pack of dingos, I’m the bloke they have come out to take care of it. I only do this when all other management options have been exhausted. I don’t like shooting dingos, but sometimes it’s necessary, like coyotes.
“And because his tracks are frequent to the these paths and often seen, there’s a dogger and his bullet’s got your name… Oh, they watched his movements day and night until he came to water at the station bore beyond the coolabah. And as he raced for freedom a single shot rang out. Now he lays to rest beneath the desert stars.”
Sometimes I feel like the dogger. Sometimes I feel like the dingo. Either way, sometimes when I’m hunting from a far enough distance that I don’t have to worry about my prey hearing me, I’ll find myself humming this song under my breath while I’m waiting. “So run old dingo, watch your tail, keep your wits about you, never let your concentration slide. For the word’s out that they want you, and they’ll track you till you’re dead as long as there’s a bounty on your hide.”
The next song is my favourite song of all time and the song that should’ve been our national anthem if the pollies weren’t such fucking sooks about a bad image because if you ask me there’s nothing more Australian than lifting a sheep and throwing yourself into a billabong to drown when you’re caught because you’re going to die on your own bloody terms and no one else’s.
Ignore that the song is sung by Rolf Harris. We don’t claim the nonce but he’s got the best version of this song both because of the commentary, the excitement with which he sings it, and because you can hear the audience singing along with him.
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Some other great songs by Rolf Harris, as much as I hate to say it, are Tie Me Kangaroo Down, Sport (I sang this religiously as a kid and my teachers hated me) and Sun Arise, which I sometimes find myself singing in the early morning when I’m half-awake and making coffee.
I also love war songs, don’t ask why, reckon it’s the history aspect. The entire Remembrance album is great. It’s an album completely dedicated to World War 1, but The Green Fields of France strikes a chord with me that makes some deep sorrow well in my chest.
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“Did you leave a wife or a sweetheart behind? In some loyal heart is your memory enshrined, and though you died back in 1916, to that loyal you’re forever nineteen? … And I can’t help but wonder, oh, Willie McBride, do all those who lie here know why they died? Did you really believe them when they told you the cause? Did you really believe that this war would end wars? Well the suffering, the sorrow, the glory, the shame, the killing and dying, it was all done in vain. Oh, Willie McBride, it all happened again. And again, and again, and again, and again.”
The main song on that album that really hits me is And the Band Played Waltzing Matilda. The song starts off with a man relaying his life: “Now when I was a young man I carried me pack and I lived the free life of a rover. From the Murray’s green basin to the dusty Outback, well I waltzed my Matilda all over. Then in 1915 my country said, ‘Son, it’s time you stopped rambling, there’s work to be done.’ So they gave me a tin hat and they gave me a gun, and they marched me away to the war.” Just from this we know he’s an Aussie bloke and if you know anything about the Australians in WWI you’re probably feeling an immediate concern. Maybe you’re hoping he’s sent to Europe to lay mines, but then you get the next verses: “And the band played Waltzing Matilda as the ship pulled away from the Quay, and amidst all the cheers, the flag-waving and tears, we sailed off for Gallipoli.”
And anyone who knows about what actually happened at Gallipoli knows just what’s in store for this poor bloke.
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Now for some folk songs! Moreton Bay is one I sing often as it’s very easy to remember and has a nice melody. This song also makes an appearance in Chapter 12. The Fields of Athenry is an Irish folk song, but the man it’s about, a lad named Michael, is sent to Botany Bay in Australia as a convict so I’m counting it as an Aussie song too!
Of course we also have some non-country/folk songs!
Back on the war songs, another great one is Khe Sanh by Cold Chisel about the repercussions of the Vietnam War on an Australian soldier. Many American vets have heard this song and strongly identify with it. Amazing how an Aussie band understands the American veteran mindset better than American bands at the time. (Don't even get me started on how the American populace treated soldiers returning from Vietnam.)
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Another song on that list is Redgum's I Was Only Nineteen. My dad loves this song despite not knowing any of the Australian locations, but he can name all the Vietnam ones. He gets that faraway look in his eyes when he listens to it. The verses "Frankie kicked a mine the day that mankind kicked the moon. God help me, he was going home in June" cracks something in my heart each time I hear it. My dad was in the Vietnam bush and they didn't even find out that MLK had been killed until over two weeks after it happened, and it was an immediate uproar amongst his men as there were black and white Marines in his company. After an hour the row quieted and then there was just mourning from everyone involved. Even the people who weren't well-versed in who MLK was (not that there was many) were mourning simply because their brothers in arms were mourning. There isn't race in the bush, no white or black or anything else. Everyone is green--the colour of the camouflage they wear.
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And lastly on a more upbeat note, how could anyone forget about the song that even people who haven’t heard Waltzing Matilda have heard and associate with Australia. The quintessential Aussie song! The one we play at international sport matches, the one we ANNOY THE FUCK OUT OF EVERYONE WITH when every fucking Aussie in attendance starts singing along to it, the one that causes a row of “AUSSIE AUSSIE AUSSIE! OI OI OI!” in succession for five minutes after the song ends. The Aussie song: Down Under by Men at Work!
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southeastasiadiary · 1 year
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Day Twelve: The Killing Fields
Late this morning, I flew from Ho Chi Minh City in Vietnam to Phnom Penh, “The Pearl of Asia,” AKA the capital of Cambodia. I met my guide, Thy, at the airport and headed immediately to Cheung Ek, one of the sites known collectively as “the Killing Fields.”
Incongruously and somewhat surreally, there’s a very nice cafe with free Wi-Fi just across from Cheung Ek. I was very hungry, so I sat and checked my email over a lovely lunch of spring rolls and red curry only about a hundred yards away from where hundreds of people had been murdered a few decades earlier.
Unfortunately, I don’t have that many photos to show of Cheung Ek for two reasons. First, visitors are asked to refrain from photographing many parts of the site out of respect for the victims. Second, this is the rainy season in Cambodia.
Now, let me try to give you some impression of what it means to be in Cambodia during the rainy season. Recall the worst storm you can remember. Thunderstorm. Tropical Storm. Hurricane. Whatever. Now multiply that by ten. Then multiply the result by a thousand. THAT'S how heavy the rains are. The water comes down, not in droplets, but in continual sheets that drench you and everything you own, leaving it looking as though you took it all for a nice swim. Wearing an anorak and carrying an umbrella? Ha! They serve only to make you FEEL as though you’re doing something. Compared to this utter monsoon, they don’t stand a chance.
Here’s the walkway into the site:
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And here’s the entrance gate:
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You have to realize that the water you’re looking at between the doors of that gate is six inches deep AT ITS MOST SHALLOW. At the end of our visit, Thy had to call our driver to come rescue us under a canopy, otherwise we couldn’t have made it across the parking lot to the car.
Yes, it was really that bad.
Needless to say, taking photos at an outdoors site like Cheung Ek in the midst of such a storm proved to be nearly impossible. But, since we had to run from one sheltered area to the next, armed with the beach-sized umbrellas that Thy provided, he had plenty of time to tell me the story of the Killing Fields.
He was sixteen when the Khmer Rouge came to power. At first, they were welcomed by the Cambodian people since it was widely believed that the Khmer Rouge would reinstate the king. But, immediately after taking power, the new government ordered Phnom Penh to be evacuated. The reason given was that the Americans were about to bomb the city. In reality, this was a ploy to get everyone into the countryside and force them to work in agriculture. Pol Pot claimed that, if everyone worked and there were no lazy people, the country could produce enough rice that it could buy whatever it needed, and everyone would prosper.
Things didn’t turn out that way.
The Khmer Rouge distrusted intellectuals, foreigners, those who had associated with foreigners, and anyone else who might be suspected as not fully on board with the new order. In prison, those arrested were tortured and forced to provide names of others who were “enemies of the regime.” And so, the list of those who were arrested continued to expand.
Once people had given names of their “co-conspirators,” they were told they’d been rehabilitated and soon would be taken back to their homes. In reality, they were taken to one of the Killing Fields.
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There, they’d be blindfolded and their hands tied. One by one they’d be taken out to where a mass grave had already been dug. Each victim would be struck in the head with whatever implement was at hand and, dead or not, tossed into the grave.
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At Cheung Ek alone, almost 9,000 bodies have been found, and it is known that many still lie buried there.
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A memorial or stupa has been constructed at the site. Inside are seventeen tiers, filled with bones of the victims.
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burnedbyshoto · 3 years
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indulge me
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indulge me: an arrangement
— Being a secret little girl in the modern world is rough, but it becomes much more chaotic when a classmate of yours offers to be your new daddy dom.
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pairing: todoroki shouto x fem!reader
warnings: 18+, smut, nsfw, ddlg dynamic, college!au, modern!au, daddy!shouto, little girl!reader, I am not well versed in this dynamic please do not use this as an educational source, dom!shouto, sub!reader, biting, marking, mating press, nipple play (both), spanking, oral, gagging, choking, praise, degradation, little space
word count: 13,547
a/n: this is a commission for @bakusbiatch​ thank you for your endless amount fo patience as it took me 100x longer than ever to write this
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If there was something you knew now that you completely did not understand at the age of eighteen was the entire dynamics of sex. To be fair, after an adolescence of watching porn, reading erotica, and even gossiping between friends, it was, without doubt, that you were entirely clueless about real, healthy dynamics.
First off, the first time you had sex was super uncomfortable. 
There was no break or even space for pleasure to build in because you had been so tense, so awkward that you remained rigid and still the entire three minutes the guy fucked into you. You remember his sweat-soaked body collapsing on top of you, his eyes seeing galaxies in the stuffy, now smelly room as he breathed out a ‘Woah.’
You had smiled at him stiffly, letting his softening dick flop out of your dry vagina and curled in on yourself as he snuggled into you, praising the world and everything around it for this moment. It was without saying that you left his cum stained sheets and ran back home.
Sex sucked.
But that was when you were seventeen and made the terrible decision on fucking your friend with whom you had scary sexual tension. You avoided sex to your best ability after that, not so much as caring to allow anyone to touch you because that was disappointing. Why would you go through that when your fingers sufficed much better? Why go through that awkward tension when you didn’t have any moments of awkwardness when reading smut?!
Audios were better.
Words were best.
But, as one does, you fell in love against your will to a boy just a few months older than you. His smile was soft, and his words were kind, but oh, did his touch drive you hot and mad. You weren’t exactly sure how long you had lasted, how much perseverance you had kept when the two of you would fall onto his (thank fucking god) clean sheets, his strong hands and fingers keeping your hips close to his as you kissed him as if you couldn’t live without his touch.
“Are you… are you ready?” he had asked, his shirt thrown into the abyss of his room and the button of your jeans undone, revealing the simple set of panties you had on. “I don’t want to—”
“I’m ready,” you interrupt him, your body practically burning from the inside out with the desperate need and lust for him to fuck you. “I’m ready.”
He stills, his tongue peeking past his lips before a slow, chilling grin spreads against his mouth.
“Okay,” he nods, “can I ask you to do something, though?”
You, in your desperation to get his dick out of his sweats and buried deep into your throbbing cunt, nod.
“I have a daddy kink… I really, really like the daddy little girl dynamics,” he breathes, palms pressing to your knees and dragging down your inner thighs in a teasing, near authoritative way. “Can we… are you interested in trying it?”
Now, although you had largely avoided sex, toys and fingers weren’t nearly enough to replace the overwhelming need to be touched, fucked, and worshipped by another human being. You had fucked plenty of people who had always claimed to have kinks and fetishes. Most of the men you had in bed who said they had a daddy kink only liked being addressed as daddy; that was it. There was no true dynamic, just a play on the power the title brought them.
So, in the naive, childish way you were, you agreed.
You listened to his every command in bed, thrilled and keened under his praise for his princess, for his little girl, and you ate it up, thanking and praising your daddy. The sex ended with you cumming so hard you went blind for a moment, so dizzy from your high. As the both of you drifted off to sleep, you had no clue when you woke up in the morning he would present you with a little girl starter package made by him for you specifically. It was then that you realized that dynamics were an actual thing, and as he presented you a checklist of kinks, toys, and rules he laid out, you realized that nothing you had ever experienced — real or fictional — could have prepared you for this.
The two of you went through the list and rules together, your eyes widening and face blazing with embarrassment as he described his expectations and needs with this dynamic. You nodded, so completely lost in this entire thing that you agreed with most everything he offered and wanted.
The one rule you did have didn’t necessarily surprise him.
The dynamic was to remain a secret, you asserted, unable to budge on this thought. You could be his little girl, but it was to stay in private, never in public. And he tilted his head in thought but ultimately agreed with a smile. He thought you’d one day stop being in the closet over this kink, and you thought the opposite.
And time moves forward; it’s rigid and unforgiving. Two years into a relationship, a year and a half into the dynamic, you and your daddy break up, and you, against all odds, are left scrambling for a daddy you never realized you needed.
What was a girl to do?
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Your head is angled downward, and the hood that sits on your head is not concealing your face as well as you would have liked. It was without saying that you were a woman of pride. You took great care of what you did, how people viewed you, and how you presented yourself to the world. Most days, you always exited your small apartment as an excellent student who was always wearing properly done makeup and stylish outfits. 
Your style screamed confident woman (not little girl, you absolutely refused to wear anything cutesy in public), and you walked with your chin raised and eyes on the horizon.
To see that you were in sweats, an oversized hoodie, no makeup on, and perusing the store's area made for young girls and toddlers, was a shock. You had made sure to come nearly thirty minutes before closing; no one would be here to accidentally see you, no one could see you in your embarrassing shame-picking for your dynamic. All because your newest daddy couldn’t afford to buy you new things since your old ones had your ex’s name or brand all over it.
This was for the best; you reminded yourself as you haphazardly threw the items within the basket, face flaming as you ignored the temptation to simply stand in the aisle and flip through the sticker book and coloring book you recently tossed into the cart. You were fine; you already had your plan of action on what to say when purchasing these items.
‘My sister is pregnant again, and she already has a kid,’ you mentally rehearsed, imagining an excited smile on your face because you are excited for this imaginary pregnant sister of yours. ‘It’s a present for the baby and the brat.’
Solid.
Perfect.
Beautiful.
Making sure to quickly take note of what was inside the basket, you spun on your heel and marched your way through the empty store to the deserted register.
You kept your head down as you placed the basket on the conveyor belt, easy peasy, you would be fine!
“Found everything you were looking for?” a voice asks, piercing through your mental rehearsal just in case you got questions. 
You blink, head raising up, exposing your face to the person behind the register.
It shouldn’t have been that big of a deal.
Checking things out at the register wasn’t supposed to be all that embarrassing. I mean, what could top having to buy pads and tampons from a creepy, greasy old man during your very first period ever?! But you had to admit seeing a familiar face behind the register as he began to scan the items in your cart kinda made it a big deal.
Todoroki Shouto read his name tag, and ‘TODOROKI SHOUTO?!’ screamed your heart. 
Oh, how to describe Todoroki Shouto, well you didn’t even know where to begin.
Shouto was one thousand percent a supermodel that has yet to be recruited. He could probably be a top star athlete, good enough to go overseas if he wanted. He was a genius. Someone who was somehow friends with everyone he came across even though he was a man of few words. 
He stood tall behind the register, the tight black high collared shirt sitting beneath a light blue opened dress shirt. His distinctive red and white slightly wavy hair — all-natural, you believe — pushed back in a way that you would bet to hell and back that he had run his fingers through it. For the past three years in university, you had more than a few classes with this stunning man. You two shared the same major, and he often sat at the back of the classroom, but you were nearly hyperaware of everything he did because his voice was liquid honey and sex and everything that was —
“You can let go of the basket,” Shouto cut through your thoughts, and you gasped loudly, suddenly realizing that you had zoned out thinking about him.
Your hand lets go of the basket, and you slap your sweater-covered hands over your mouth; horror strikes through you like a blazing sword. You weren’t wearing makeup, you were in trash clothes, and you were in front of a man you had lusting feelings over!
NO!
“Sorry!” you squeak, your heart and bile rising up your throat at alarming rates as Shouto merely smiles at you in understanding. “This is all stuff for my sister!”
Shouto blinks, his head tilting to the side as he scans a sippy cup.
“Your sister’s quite young,” he remarks easily, trying not to make you feel stupider—probably.
Tell the lie, y/n, you chide yourself as you shift your weight.
“Ah, well, not actually my sister,” you explain, fingers scratching against your scalp. “My sister is pregnant r-right now, and she already has a little one, so I thought that this would be a good… present?”
Nailed it.
Shouto’s eyebrows quirk, a small smile spreading across his face as he scans the plush doll. 
“That’s very kind of you; you must have a good relationship with your sister.”
“O-Oh yeah, we’re very close.”
“And would you say that this is something appropriate to give to a pregnant family member and their child?”
You froze and looked down at the items you had hastily thrown into the basket.
It was a pacifier, sippy cup, baby blanket, choker, coloring books, stuffed animal, candy, and stickers.
You choked, feeling heat exploding in your cheeks all over again; absolutely not. This was not something to give to a pregnant woman.
“My sister is pregnant,” Shouto explains, definitely sensing your poorly concealed stress, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m the youngest of my siblings, so I don’t really know what to buy her.”
“Absolutely the fuck not.”
Shouto blinked, and before you could start screaming apologies over your rudeness, he began laughing loudly. Your face continued to burn in your utter humiliation and shame, but Shouto only found amusement in this all as he began to place your items away in a bag. 
“What are your recommendations then?” Shouto finally asked, his lips pulled back into an easy, teasing grin. “And that’ll be forty-eight seventy-three.”
You shoved your card into the chip scanner immediately, your gaze everywhere but on him.
“I think you should get whatever your sister wants or still needs,” you quickly say, eyes now focusing on the Approved message on the machine. “Every person is different.”
“I suppose,” Shouto agrees, his arms crossing against his chest, and you have to resist the temptation to ogle at the way his muscles become sinfully pronounced. “Well, I won’t hold you up. See you in lecture tomorrow, y/l/n.”
“Bye!” you squawk, grabbing your bag and racing out.
His eyes burn into your back the entire rush out of the store, but you find that you can’t seem to worry about that. You’re much more elated and somehow horrified at the realization that he knew exactly who you were.
Step zero of who knows how many to get Todoroki Shouto to fall in love with you, complete!
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“So, about the upcoming paper assignment, I’m sure you’re all eager to get started on,” your professor’s voice boomed throughout the lecture hall, his arms folding across his chest as he leans against the podium with an easy grin. “I decided that I would be nice and allow for some partnering up!”
Your eyes widened as excited murmurs exploded through the classroom. 
Partners for a ten-page paper? You were going to thank god almighty. 
But, at the same time, you frowned. This was a class where you didn’t exactly know anyone. It was a course outside of your own major, and with your usual friends not in this class, you knew that you were going to have to go out of your way to find a partner. You withered a bit in your chair, not entirely on board with that train of thought.
“There are an uneven amount of you guys in the class, though,” your professor continued, still sporting that easy grin on his face. “And I decided that instead of having too many groups of three, and because I was so nice to allow partner work, I decided to make the partners. Look at the pinned paper at the door for your partner or partners for the group of three! No, I will not allow trades, and no, I will not allow complaining! Be grateful!”
Hopeful and exasperated murmurs sounded through the room as the professor dismissed the class and frantic movement followed after. Even as old as they were, everyone was desperate and eager to see who a random generator assigned them to. Packing up swiftly, you threw your bag over your shoulder and began walking towards the list. 
You wonder who you were gonna get.
“Y/l/n,” a voice spoke softly, lowly by your ear.
You whipped around — one part startled, a second part curious — and came to see Todoroki Shouto standing slightly behind you. His gaze was at the wall for a moment, dropping only when you were looking up at him. He smiles slowly, and you feel your chest tighten.
Oh boy.
“Todoroki,” you smile, attempting to relax completely in front of him. “Any hopes as to who’s your partner?”
“Well, as long as it isn’t Sero, I think it’ll be okay,” Shouto’s eyes crinkle with his deepened smile. “Last time I did a paper with him, we did it completely high—” you choke, eyes widening at the thought of trying to be eloquent enough to write a paper while high. “—It was terrible.”
“Oh, I bet,” you laugh, arms crossing across your chest as the two of you begin inching forward within the crowd, others leaving with proud laughs, curious frowns, or aggravated groans. “But at least it sounds like it was turned in?”
“It was,” Shouto nods, his teeth flashing as he finally tears his gaze from you. “Oh, would you look at that?”
You hum, eyes squinting as you try to read the list through the many heads before you.
Y/l/n, Todoroki S.
“Would you look at that.”
“Seems like we’re partners,” you laugh, relief and horror flooding your body.
“I’m glad it’s you.”
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So, it was decided that with the two weeks given to write the paper and taking Shouto’s job into account, this paper was to be written as soon as possible. The suggestion of working on it together in the same room and not just through google doc was brought up and agreed upon. So with consensus on that, the matter of where it was going to happen was brought up.
“We can do it at my place,” Shouto offered with a shrug, “my house is pretty big.”
“I don’t have a car,” you interject, a frown on your face — you wanted to see his house. “My apartment is five minutes from campus. Is that alright?”
A smile.
“That’s perfect.”
And so, on a Friday afternoon, you found yourself already apologizing profusely as you walked up the staircase that smelled just a tiny bit of cheese. You warned him about the mess of your apartment. About how not to judge you on any and all messes you might have made on your way out! That you would have cleaned up had you known this was happening!
“I’m sure it’ll be okay,” Shouto spoke, attempting to ease your anxiety as you push your key in the doorknob and turn it. “I really don’t mind a messy place.”
“Ha, well, this is it,” you say, your face feeling disgustingly warm as you breach the entrance to your small one bedroom one bathroom place. “Leave your shoes right there, and we can head in!”
Toeing off your own shoes, you scrambled into the apartment, eyes wide as you attempted to make sure that nothing was crazily messy or out of place. There wasn’t any dirty laundry or undergarments anywhere? No, good!
Shouto locks the door behind himself, a chuckle at the back of his throat vibrating in his chest as he watches you skirt about. He looks down at the shoes you were wearing, white sneakers, and smirks at how small they look compared to his. He never really thought he was that tall or big, to be honest. It was a decent size for someone from his family, but it amused him greatly to see his things pushed against yours.
He looked back up, eyes landing on your flustered face as you stood by a table in the kitchen area.
“Ready?” he asked, hands shoving into his pockets.
“I believe so!”
And for some reason, probably the very same reason that had him entranced by you, Shouto laughs and steps foot into your apartment.
The paper itself isn’t that hard.
It’s an argumentative piece mostly on a Green Act proposal that was currently being debated within the government body. A paper that was fifty percent argument was something you were elated to have, but the other fifty percent was using sources and articles to further back your point. It was now two hours into the paper writing, takeout filling the empty spaces between the table as Shouto’s laughter and your ranting filled the open air. It was nice; he was nice to hang out with.
“I’m just saying we are nearing a universal climate disaster, and I do not want to be wondering when I will die because some fat old men with huge wallets want to continue getting richer!” you yelled, your chest heaving with your lack of proper air. “It’s dumb!”
“I bet if you grabbed ahold of their favorite toupees, they’d fold and agree,” Shouto teases, his grin covered by the mug he’s currently drinking tea from. “I’ll bail you out of prison.”
“I wouldn’t go to prison for that,” you argue, arms folding across your chest as you shake your head in solemn understanding. “They’d murder me and make it look like an accident.”
“Dark.”
“You know it.”
“I’ll avenge you.”
“You better, or else I’ll blame you for my murder.”
Shouto’s jaw dropped, ready to retaliate with something else, but he was interrupted by a loud call from your phone. You frowned, head tilting as you pulled your phone out from your jean pocket and stared at the screen.
Incoming call from: dd.
“I have to take this,” you say apologetically, standing up as you answered the call. You waited until you were in your bedroom before placing the phone to your head, your heart hammering with the unknown. “Hello?”
.
Shouto heard the click of your bedroom door, and he sighed, leaning back into his chair. His eyes looked up at the ceiling, momentarily bored now that he wasn’t with you. He wondered who ‘dd’ was and if you were alright. He hoped it wasn’t anything serious.
Grabbing his water cup, Shouto frowned, seeing that it was empty. He looked over at the sink where you had initially filled up the water cups. You wouldn’t mind if he filled it up on his own, right? Shouto pushed back his chair and stood, the cup resting in his fingers as he walked over towards the sink with a light hum.
He filled the cup slowly, not wanting to make too much noise. But as he stared at the drying dishes on your dish holder, he frowned at the sight of the pink sippy cup you had bought from the store last week. It was cleaned, obviously used, and he tilted his head.
Weird.
The cupboard was open, and Shouto couldn’t help but look into the dark wood and startled once again when he took in the neatly folded bib and the nearly innocuous pacifier sitting on top of it. Untouched, undisturbed, but used — definitely used.
Frowning, he took a slow, long drink of his water as he stared out towards the small living room you had. There, sitting on the wood coffee table, was the coloring book you had also purchased. That wasn’t adding up… if they were for your sister’s kids, why were they here? It didn’t exactly seem like the place to be holding them. 
Shouto thought, trying to figure out just why you had all these things for… well, children.
Was testing products on your own a thing people did?
Well, yes, he supposed so, but these were already licensed products. The coloring book, well, he guesses that was a pretty normal thing! Drawing and coloring were everyday stress relieves — his mother often used that to help herself. But a pacifier, a bip, and a sippy cup? The only thing he could rationalize with that was—
“You’re being fucking ridiculous, daddy!” your voice harshly whispered (maybe ridiculed and mocked) from your room, just loud enough that Shouto heard, and his eyes widened.
Oh.
Ohh fuck.
.
.
.
“You know what, this isn’t working,” you scoff, fingers pinching the bridge of your nose as you roll your eyes to the heavens above. “This was a good trial run, but I’m going to have to end this. This is not what I was looking for.”
“Come on, brat, you know you don’t mean that—”
You hung up, your fingers curled in a fist as you growled lowly at the screen. You wasted no time in blocking the number. What a fucking terrible daddy he was. Didn’t buy you anything, didn’t support you, or help you. There was no dynamic in this relationship. It was just a power-hungry dom with a streak for being called daddy.
A fucking poser at best.
Rolling your eyes, you tossed your phone onto your bed and walked out of your room back to the main area of your place. You looked at Shouto, who was sitting in his chair, his face bored, maybe a bit tired, and his face was concentrated on his phone — he was idly scrolling through it.
“Sorry that took so long,” you apologize, slinking back onto your chair, hands rubbing your face. “I tried to be fast about that.”
Shouto peered past the top of his phone, a comforting smile on his face, “Don’t worry about it; it wasn’t like we were intensely working on the paper anyways.”
You smile, slightly embarrassed. 
“That’s true, um—”
“I think it’s time—”
The both of you spoke over each other clumsily, awkwardly — both of you obviously thinking of something that wasn’t quite in front of you. Your smile feels less forced now, “we’re done for the day?”
Shouto shifts in his chair, his head dropping slightly in agreement, “I think that would be best. We did a lot today, though.”
“We did!” you agree with a laugh, standing up and grabbing the items off the table, assisting Shouto with getting ready to leave. “We’ll meet back up in two days?”
Shouto nods, “that sounds like a plan.”
You help him pack up, insisting that you could clean up the kitchen without his help. It takes a few minutes, but finally, you have him walking out of your place, a light wave on your hand before he exits onto the staircase. You close the door with a sigh.
Jesus Christ.
.
.
Shouto stands in the stairway, his eyes concentrated on his phone where he has a single question typed into his browser.
ddlg dynamics ↳ Let’s talk DDLG, also known as Daddy Dom Little Girl. It’s a submissive/dominant relationship where the dom is known as a “Daddy,” and the submissive is known as a “Little Girl.”
...Interesting.
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Now, you were a pretty paranoid person; you could admit that. 
You didn’t like being paranoid, but you were. Most days, you always triple-checked you weren’t being followed, quadruple-checked you had your school assignments turned in and your things in your bag. With your sex life and part of your social life being introduced to the ddlg dynamic, your paranoia grew even more.
Most people weren’t understanding — they weren’t. They assumed this dynamic was simply calling your dom daddy in bed and getting called princess in return! They always believed that, allowed for that. It was socially acceptable to call your dom daddy in bed, but god fucking forbid any other part of the dynamic come into play.
You remember reading comments in articles about grown women sitting in frilly skirts and diapers as part of her dynamic and watching grown adults tear her apart — skin and bones. That was the reaction you feared, you hated.
There was a reason why you enjoyed sitting in your frilly skirts, in your white and baby pink clothes. You loved having your dom come home, tired and stressed, and ask you, his little girl, to sit on his lap while he distressed. You enjoyed the sippy cups that helped to melt your anxiety, and you enjoyed doing chores under your doms watchful eye.
The praises, the rewards were always so uplifting, and the sex was always on an intensity that made you tremble with explosive satisfaction. If your dom wanted you in diapers, you would negotiate appropriately, and you sure as hell didn’t need a fucking stranger’s opinion on whether or not that was ‘normal.’
But no amount of confidence you had in your dynamic had ever eased the bottomless paranoia and anxiety. 
Hence why after Shouto had left your apartment and you realized in horror that you had left out some damning evidence to your dynamic. The coloring book on your coffee table and the sippy cup that was obviously used were on full display. You wondered for a few hours, nearly spirling with anxiety if he had noticed — if that was why he was partially stiff as he left for the day. You had only managed to calm down when he had sent you a text later that night that he had enjoyed being over and was looking forward to working together the next day.
The praise was needed, seeping warm into your bones as you rolled over in your bed and knocked out.
You thought that you were in the clear. That that was as far as things were going to go, but your paranoia came back the next day in full force as you sat in a group with Shouto.
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“Do you want a sticker?”
That was the beginning of it all.
You had accepted the sticker without a second thought. Your typical barriers down because the lack of a dom in your life was throwing you for a bit. God, you were pathetic. You had smiled brightly, eagerly nodding as you thrust your hands out towards Shouto, waiting to receive a sticker. 
“Good job,” he had said with an endearing smile, “you deserve it.”
It was only then that the weight of what happened settled on your bones, and you froze.
Fuck.
Smiling stiffly, you pressed the sparkly pink star to your shirt and returned back to your assignment, unable to speak up again for some time.
You had hoped that it was going to end there, but it seemed that nothing about your life was going in your favor right now. 
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“Do you have a bedtime?” Shouto idly asked one late night when he was over, and you could not stop yawning to save your life. “I think everyone should go to bed at 10 p.m. on a school night, don’t you agree?”
You had choked on your saliva before disagreeing vehemently. 
“I don’t sleep until… like, um, three in the morning?” you make up, teeth tearing into your lip as you avoided eye contact.
“Such a bad girl,” Shouto murmured, much too low for you to pick up.
“What?!”
“That’s bad for your health,” he recovered with a smile.
“Oh… yeah, I suppose so.”
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“Y/l/n is a sub; she’s a brat about that,” Shouto said to the group you both were assigned to in yet another class the two of you shared.
You had been idly drinking from your coffee cup and was utterly zoned out when he said that. So when you had picked up his words, you nearly choked at the sentence, your eyes watering and your throat burning with your drink and humiliation as the entire table turned to look at you.
“Oh shit, are you okay?!” Mina asked, eyes wide.
“I’m a what?!” you splutter instead, eyes focused on Shouto and your cheeks beginning to burn with unsaid fear.
“You’re a substitute babysitter for your sister,” Shouto remarked, his head tilted as he feigned innocence. “You were telling me about that the other day, remember? Sero is trying to get into the babysitting gig too.”
You wanted to believe him, you wanted so desperately to believe that Shouto was just somehow landing a missile into every paranoid corner of your life without meaning to, but this was getting out of control. This was too on the head, too obvious to not say that he somehow saw your little things and pieced together the dynamic you’ve come to love and thrive in. But you couldn’t fess up; you wouldn’t give yourself to the wolves of embarrassment and shame over something you knew wasn’t wrong.
“Oh,” you say stiffly, smiling over at Sero, “I’m on an app that is used a lot by small families; I can text you the name?”
“I’d appreciate that!” Sero laughs, blissfully unaware of the rising tension between you and Shouto. “I didn’t think that high school girls had some type of business turf thing; they’re scary and aggressive!”
“It’s a serious job for high schoolers,” Mina waved him off, “this is the only thing most of them can do!”
The conversation between Sero and Mina began to drift off as you were staring at Shouto, unable to break the eye contact the both of you found yourselves connected by. You didn’t want to pull away, too bitter and anxious to. You were currently two weeks without a daddy dom in your life, and you knew that you should be able to have a better grasp on your life than this — you knew you couldn’t lean on this dynamic at every point in your life. But you were sad to admit that you were struggling to keep your head afloat. You felt like you were almost drowning, struggling to keep your composure as you needed a play or a simple scene.
But the confidence in Shouto’s eyes that were hidden behind the sheer curiosity and wonder was making your skin itch, making you want to grab him by the collar and bring him in close and demand to know exactly what he was thinking. 
He would not embarrass you.
He would not.
“Can I talk to you, Todoroki?” you asked, practically demanded of Shouto as the group of you began to stand at the table, readying to leave. 
If you noticed Mina’s and Sero’s eyebrows shoot up towards the ceiling, you didn’t say anything as Shouto paused in putting things into his backpack. His head tilted, but he nodded his head, “yeah, about what?”
“Don’t worry about it,” you smile stiffly, tossing your own backpack over your shoulder as you turn on your heel and immediately begin walking. Uncaring if he was following you or not. “Bye, Mina, Sero.”
There’s silence behind you before the heady sound of a chair scraping against the floor is heard and the long, quick strides of Shouto following after you. You exit the cafe you had been in, eyes squinting when the harsh rays of sun fall on your face, but you don’t hesitate or pause even once.
There’s no one outside right now; it’s just you and Shouto. 
You feel him at your shoulder, and you keep your gaze straight ahead, unwilling to look at him just yet. 
“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing,” you finally whisper, your voice low and angry. You nearly spat them out at him, utterly humiliated and horrified that you were probably outing yourself should he just be that dense and annoyingly able to pick at your anxiety. “Stop it.”
“I don’t—” Shouto began, eyes wide and screaming of innocence that could make you cry.
“I know you saw my things, and I know you pieced it together,” you cut him off, your lips pursed tight. You suddenly stop in your tracks, tears burning at the back of your eyes as you turn to face Shouto. “So if you have a problem with that, I suggest that you kindly fuck off!”
Shouto stands next to you, hair hastily swept backward, hand on the strap of his bag, and his face telling you that you had miscalculated something. You prayed it wasn’t about how he knew about you being a little.
“I don’t have a problem with that,” Shouto admits, his hand raising to rub the back of his neck. “I don’t think you’re weird or strange or bad for being into the ddlg dynamic. I’m actually… I take part in it too. I was trying to subtly tell you that I was into it as well, and well, I heard that you and your last dom broke it off… I wanted to tell you that I was interested in becoming your new dom.”
You blink.
“Eh?!”
“I’m interested in forming an agreement with you?” Shouto tilts his head; there’s a sense of seriousness to his face, his eyes innocent. “I need a little, and if you’re looking for a dom…”
He lets the silence fill the rest of his sentence, and your mouth gapes open as blood rushes to your face at the straightforward request.
“I… I barely know you!” you splutter, your heart in your ears as you can barely comprehend what was going on. 
Two weeks ago, Todoroki Shouto was practically a stranger. You knew him about as well as a person knew the barista at their favorite coffee shop. Friendly, but not close. Definitely not close enough for you to say that you would allow for him to see you in your little space, for him to give you a list of rewards and punishments — for possible sex?!
“Most caregiver contracts like this are done between people who know even less,” Shouto shrugs, his arms folded across his chest. “You don’t have to say yes now or even agree, but I like you a lot. I want to pursue a relationship with you, and I assumed that this would be a good starting ground especially if you need it.”
Your tongue sweeps across your lips, unable to come up with a single rationale thing to say. 
“I don’t need an answer right now; indulge me, though,” Shouto smiles softly, his gaze dropping for a moment. “Take as much time as you need. We can do a single scene to test it out, and if it doesn’t work out, no hard feelings. Let me know when you’re interested in it, though.”
You can’t say anything; you can only numbly nod as Shouto smiles at you once again.
“Let me know.”
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Todoroki S.: ↳ If you need a list, I’ll send mine over whenever you want. I have my rules, rewards, punishments, and kinks all supplied in it. [received Today 23:44]
Todoroki S.: ↳ If you need a list, I’ll send mine over whenever you want. I have my rules, rewards, punishments, and kinks all supplied in it. [seen 7 Days Ago 23:44]
You: ↳ Send your points, we can see if we’re compatible. [seen now]
Todoroki S.: ↳ I enjoyed the scene we did today; I hope you did too. I’m interested in making this a real thing if you are too. [received Today 20:44]
You: ↳ I did, too, actually, lol. Um, thank you, first of all! We can work on the contract now. [received Today 20:48]
Todoroki S.: ↳ Okay. I’ve already made the first draft of one; if you’d like to look it over, let me know what you think, and we can edit some things around. [seen now]
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It has been two months since the contract was signed.
Two months.
Two months of Shouto practically living in your apartment with you, a once stranger seeing you at your most vulnerable. He was a steady hand on your back as you slipped into your desired little space, a constant warmth at your side as you went about your day at home. 
It had been weird at first; your anxiety still wouldn’t let up, nearly convincing you many times that this was all but a prank. That Shouto would pull away from you when you least expected it and would expose you to the world. There had been many times where he would hold you on his lap, his arms warm around your back, your favorite stuffed animal sitting on your lap as he promised you that you were wrong.
“Daddy is here to protect you, sunshine,” Shouto murmured in your ear, his warm lips pressing to the small behind your ear. “Daddy would never do that to my baby girl. That wouldn’t make me happy.”
“I-It wouldn’t?” you sniffled, your nose face nuzzling further into his neck as your sobs had finally stopped. 
“No, not at all, sunshine,” Shouto smiled against the crown of your head. You felt his lips press a soft kiss there, his warm hands stroking up and down your back. “Do you remember what makes Daddy happy?”
You blink, your wet eyelashes heavy and sticking together as you peer at his jaw as if it could possibly tell you.
“I can’t… I can’t remember, sorry, Daddy,” you sniffle again, suddenly terrified that he would be upset with you. You were such a terrible baby girl.
“What makes Daddy happy is seeing his baby girl smiling, happy, protected, and safe,” Shouto easily relays, pulling you away from his shoulder, his calloused fingers rubbing the tear streaks that still stain down your face. “I promise that I will never do anything to cause you harm, sunshine. I only want you to be happy; you being happy makes me happy like nothing before.”
There’s no stopping the way your bottom lip trembles with the pleasant weight of his words, the way it warms you from your belly and curls to your toes.
“Pinky promise?” you whimper, somehow out of breath.
Shouto looks at your curved pinky that is extended out for him to hold, to seal the other half of a promise he has no intentions of ever breaking.
Smiling softly, Shouto wraps his pinky with yours and twists it gently, locking the promise.
“Pinky promise,” he affirms, placing a kiss to your knuckles.
.
.
He was so good to you.
So sweet, gentle, patient, and kind.
He tended to spend the night Mondays through Fridays, giving you the weekend to be on your own. He only ever slept in your bed with your given consent (which was every single time), and there was just something about wearing the silver chained choker on your neck that he bought for you. Dainty and cute, nothing too crazy to draw overwhelming attention.
It had a tiny cherry blossom that was engraved with Shouto on the back.
It was a constant and calming reminder of what you had during the day.
The arrangement was going better than you had assumed it was going to be.
Shouto made for an excellent daddy, but there was one grievance you had. With two months of extreme kinship, so many nights of being curled into his side, getting near-daily cuddles for following his orders perfectly, and a few spanks because you were careless even after he warned you — you had assumed that the sexual part of the dynamic would come out. 
You had okayed for him to be able to fuck you, regardless of whether or not you were in little space! You reached your little space more often than not around him because he was so well, but now you were bordering desperation. You wanted your daddy to please you more, to give you the reward you wanted most: his cock.
“I’m home, bunny,” Shouto called out, his voice hinting exhaustion but mostly satisfaction at being home again.
Per your rules and regulations, greeting Shouto with a cheerful ‘welcome home, daddy!’ when he arrived home was a must. It was a clear indicator that not only were you home but that you wished to indulge in the dynamic for the rest of the day.
But you sat at the coffee table wearing an unapproved, not chosen outfit for home.
You were wearing an off-the-shoulder white cotton shirt that was big and soft, pink lace shorts that barely covered your ass but was hemmed with lace and pretty frill. You had thigh highs on as well that were the same pink as your shorts. There was a pacifier in your mouth, your gaze focused on the Disney coloring book in front of you as you colored in Sleeping Beauty. 
You turned your head, eyes looking at your daddy with a vague look of disinterest before turning back to your coloring.
“I said ‘I’m home,’ bunny,” Shouto restated, giving you the benefit of the doubt of whether or not you heard him. Typically you were excited to have him home, going to his side immediately and asking a million questions as to what he had been doing and why he was home so late. 
“Hmph,” was your response as you placed a sticker onto the coloring page.
Shouto’s eyebrows furrowed; he toed off his shoes and began walking towards you, assessing what was happening. 
“Is my bunny mad that I was a bit later than I had promised?” he asked, sitting on the couch behind you, his fingers brushing across your clothes as if he was trying to remember if he had selected this outfit. But the sudden touch that you were craving in a way like no other made your head spin just so, and you resisted the motion of caving.
You wanted to be a brat! Your daddy should be taking care of all your needs! He promised he would be taking care of you better than you took care of yourself! He should know when you wanted his cock!
“Hmph!” you hrmph again, and you lean out of his touch even though you craved it. 
Although you couldn’t see him, you could feel the slow, calculating blink Shouto took at this action. There’s a moment of silence before the couch sounds under his shifting weight. You freeze at the feeling of his warm palm on your spine, a whisper of danger. It feels partially like a threat, a reminder of impending consequences.
“What did daddy say about bunny using her words?” Shouto asks, his voice stern, low, commanding. 
It should scare you, but the threat in his voice makes your heart stammer and your cunt wet. So, instead of doing what’s right, you stand up, ignoring him yet again as you stick your nose up to the ceiling and try to walk away. 
Well, you try to, that is.
Before you can go too far, Shouto’s fingers are wrapped around your wrist, keeping you in place.
 “You know I don’t like it when you don’t speak, right?” Shouto asks, his eyes digging into your cheek as you refuse to look at him. Yet another rule he has in place. You had to look at him when he spoke to you or when you spoke to him. It was to help make sure that you behaved properly in public — to make you the best baby girl ever. “Use your words and look at me, princess.”
The word princess rolled off his tongue, and you bit down on your tongue to keep the breathy moan from expelling from your lips. He typically only used princess when you were on the verge of genuinely displeasing him, when he was warning you one last time before a punishment was given. Your daddy was two months without jacking off, exhausted from work, and now dealing with you, his bratty baby girl. There was no way this wasn’t going to end with him forcing you to suck him off or to use you as an onahole (something you had said was okay unless you used your safeword, of course).
You shook in his hold, teeth biting your lip as you stared at the wall, refusing to heed his command.
“I’ll give you to the count of three to look at me and address me,” Shouto says, his thumb stroking the innard of your wrist. “One.”
There was no way you would cave.
“Two.”
The silence between the two of you was heavy.
“One.”
Excitement shot through you at the thought of him finally fucking you into your mattress.
“No dessert tonight,” is what Shouto said instead, and you froze.
You whipped your head towards Shouto, fury, and humiliation painting your face as your jaw drops, the pacifier falling onto the floor.
“No!”
“No?” Shouto repeats, his eyes narrowed, unhappy with the challenge. “Do you want me to take away your video games too?”
“No!” you shriek, hands clawing at your face because this was not going the way it was going. “I want my dessert and my video games!”
“Too bad, princess,” Shouto states sternly, unaffected by your growing tantrum. “You lost them both for tonight.”
“No! Give them back! I haven’t done anything wrong, daddy!” you scream, throwing your arms in your hysterics as Shouto stands up to his full height, looming over you without a single issue. Tears prick at the back of your eyes because you’ve messed up somehow; your daddy doesn’t want you — doesn’t love you the way you love him.
“You’ve been misbehaving this entire time I’ve come back home,” Shouto retorts, his other hand grabbing your wrist and managing to place them both close to his chest, limiting your thrashing actions. “Don’t think I didn’t notice the new outfit.”
“I don’t want those punishments, daddy! I don’t want t-them,” you wheeze, your eyes locked on your hands that are bound so tightly in his hands, and you whimper loudly. “You’re hurting me, daddy!”
“And you’re trying to hurt me,” Shouto calmly points out. “I can’t have you doing that, so I’ll hold onto you until you calm down enough. I’m doing this because I care for my little brat.”
“You don’t care! You don’t c-care!” you sob finally, unable to keep the hot tears from your eyes. “Daddy doesn’t care about me!”
The effect is evident and instant.
Shouto’s grip on your wrist lessens altogether, and your pounding fists finally connect with his chest as you collapse against him.
“Daddy doesn’t c-care…”
“That’s not true,” Shouto breathes easily, his fingers brushing against your sides before his arms wrap around you. “I care so much for you, baby. What’s wrong? Tell me what I can do to make things better.”
A loud sniffle emits from you, and you fist your hands in his shirt, your head shaking. 
“It’s been two months, and daddy won’t let me have his cummies,” you whisper, terrified that he would reject you. “Am I not good enough? Attractive enough that daddy wants to reward me with his dick?”
There’s a shift in the air.
“My little doll wants her daddy’s cock, is that what?” Shouto murmured against the top of your head. “My precious, innocent baby girl wants something filthy like that.”
“Mmn,” was all you could manage, your face burning at the implications, the suggestion in his voice. 
“And instead of using her words, as we practice, she decided to act like a little brat to get her way,” Shouto’s voice is low, raspy, and deep. Its tenor is just right that it makes the room instantly hotter, your body brimming with excited energy. “I think… my beautiful doll has broken too many rules for me to just give her a good reward. She deserves to be my little doll as punishment for now. I thought she was grown enough to ask for things she wanted.”
You gasp as Shouto’s warm, calloused hands drop down to the minimally exposed flesh between your booty shorts and your thigh highs. It sends an entire wave of goosebumps down your skin, and you shudder as they rise upwards, slipping under your shirt and resting on the soft skin of your stomach. 
“Your punishment will be what daddy wants it to be, doll,” Shouto states, his fingernails brushing over your clothed nipples, and you mewl at the touch. “You’ve given up your right to speak right now, and because daddy can’t trust you to not be a brat, you will suck daddy’s dick until I see it fit. You will stand on your knees like the beautiful doll daddy knows you can be. Silent, obedient, and so beautiful.”
The words are a goldmine you’ve wanted to hear this entire time, but you’re upset — rightfully upset — that it took your daddy so long to figure it out! He needed you to spell it out for him to act on it!
“I don’t like sucking dicks!” you complain, trying to wiggle out of his grasp. “That’s yucky!”
Shouto raised an eyebrow at that, his eyes flashing dangerously as he absorbed the implications of your actions. He knew he was going to earn this just as much as you were.
“Excuse me?” Shouto says calmly, a single eyebrow arched. “Do you want to repeat that?”
“You heard m-me,” you stammer, trying to remain steady under his steady stare. “If daddy couldn’t catch that, maybe I should be the one giving out the punishments.”
A hot, predatory smirk pulls across his face as his grip on your wrist tightens, and he yanks you just slightly closer towards him.
“Oh really?” he chuckles so coldly you shiver. “So you think you’re in charge here?”
You nod slowly, your pupils wide and blown. Your eyes were transfixed on his mouth, his pretty plump lips practically calling your name. 
His tongue swipes across his front teeth, and you watch him in awe, horror, and damning horny anticipation as he sits back on the couch and takes you down with him. You struggle for a bit, terrified as you feel unbalanced, ready to tumble to the floor. But your stomach is pressed heavily against his knees, pleasurable discomfort spreading through your body as you recognize this easy, beautiful spanking position. 
“I’m going to give you ten spanks,” Shouto announces, his hand rubbing smooth circles over your soft shorts. “You will count every one of them and thank me for each one. If you mess up, if you misbehave, you will get more until you do as I demand.”
You struggle against his hold, thrashing and twisting as his fingers push the shorts higher up your ass, exposing your flesh to him. But as he did so, you remember that you’re not wearing panties, and Shouto sees that too.
“Mm, you’re not wearing panties,” Shouto says, his voice trying to keep the undying want and lust from bleeding through his tone. “My precious doll is that desperate she couldn’t fully dress herself?”
“I can d-dress— aahhh!!!!”
Your interjection was interrupted by the sharp, well-practiced spank that Shouto delivered to your round ass. You arched against his lap, your skin tingling and feeling pathetically good. 
“I said you were my doll right now, and dolls don’t speak unless given permission to,” Shouto clipped, his hand circling your now tender flesh. “You didn’t count, so let's try again.”
SLAP.
“Oh my god!” you shriek at the contact, your head spinning at the craved touch. It wasn’t like his typical spanks, the ones that came down not to hurt but to remind you, to correct you to be better. These stung with power, reminding you that you were getting what you craved, and you felt your toes curl and your cunt beginning to seep with the knowledge.
Fuck, you wanted this.
THWACK.
“Again.”
THWACK.
“Daddy can spank your pretty little ass all day, doll. Do as you’re told if you want daddy’s cock.”
SPANK.
“O-One, thank you, daddy!”
WHACK!
You threw your head back at the sensation, your eyes crossing and your hips bucking backward as you shriek with pleasure. You don’t count, your head swimming with unfound energy, and Shouto tsks.
“You’re so terrible at following directions, aren’t you?” Shouto asks, his mouth hovering by your ear, and you nearly melt when his teeth tug at your cartilage at the same time he serves another heated spank to your perky ass. “Such a dirty brat, getting off on her punishments. But let me tell you, if you don’t start following what I instruct of you, I’ll fuck your mouth and leave you without any cummies.”
You gasp loudly, sobbing as he delivers yet another solid spank for your undoubtedly bruising ass. And so, with a pathetic, desperate nod, you agree.
You count to ten, thanking him each time with a beautiful sob that makes the bulge in his pants obvious to you. Your lips are swollen, bruised, and sheen with saliva from holding back your louder sobs. Your ass seems to be imprinted with the shape of his hand against your skin, and you tumble off his lap at the final thank you.
There’s slick gathered on your shorts, soaking through the pretty pink fabric turning it dark. 
“I forget that my beautiful baby girl is a masochist,” Shouto sighs as he stands up in front of you. You gasp on the floor, your head swimming with the building heat between your legs, and you hear an all too familiar, always exciting, sound of a belt being undone followed quickly by a zipper and rustling fabric.
“God, you’re so wonderful, doll,” Shouto sighs as he pulls out his hardening cock to where you’re already on your knees with wide, curious, hopeful eyes. “Already on your knees, ready to choke on daddy’s cock even though this is a punishment.”
You can barely register his words, your eyes focused and fascinated — scared almost — of the cock Shouto has. It’s fucking huge, and it’s thick, slightly curved upward with a pretty flushed tip and bulging veins. You were sure if you could even manage to take more than a few inches in!
“I think I remember something about how you don’t like deep throating,” Shouto hums contemplatively. You freeze, your heart stopping for just a moment at what he’s implying. “Well, it’s a good thing this is a punishment.”
His fingers press into your mouth, making you choke, and with your lips spread wide, mouth open for taking, Shouto guides his cock into your parted lips with a dangerous moan. 
There's an immediate ache in your jaw, the size, and girth of his cock overwhelming you without so much doubt. You gag immediately at the weight of it pressing on your tongue, filling your mouth. Heat hammers in your cunt, and you heave against him.
Shouto sighs as if he was in heaven, his hands grabbing the back of your head and slamming your head as far down his cock. So far that your nose brushed against the skin of his stomach, before pressing against it completely. 
Shouto moans louder than your panicked gags and chokes, his hips swirling and twisting as he looks down at you with lovesick eyes. “You’re so good at this,” Shouto praises, his fingers wiping away the tears that prick at your eyes. “So good.  Daddy’s so pleased with you, taking my cock so well. So beautiful even when you cry on my dick.”
Your throat spasms around his cock, your lungs burning severely from the lack of oxygen. Not a single part of your body able to relax as you desperately sought to breathe. It hurt, but it felt so good. Saliva began to pool from the corner of your mouth, dripping down your chin and drooling on your clothed breasts.
Shouto took notice and hummed contently.
“Daddy’s going to count to the number ten,” he informed you, rolling his hips further into your mouth, shoving his cock even further down your throat than you thought possible. “If you can keep your pretty nose pressed to daddy’s stomach the entire time, daddy promises you he will give you the best orgasm you’ve ever received.”
You made a squeaking noise around his cock, your fingers that were buried into his shirt gripping tighter as he suddenly lets go of your head.
“One.”
Resisting the urge to pull off him completely was a near-losing battle.
“Two.”
Your body shook with intensity, the scorching need to properly breathe slamming down on you.
“Three… four…”
Shouto’s hands began to pet your head, soothing the worried lines on your face, brushing away your tears.
“Five… six… fuck, you’re so gorgeous, baby girl.”
You whimper around his cock, and Shouto moans liquid gold in return. He smiles deviously, fingers brushing down your throat.
“Seven… eight…” you choke loudly when his fingers press against your throat, tightening your already spasming throat around his cock, furthering the burning sensation all throughout your body. “Nine…”
You look at him with pleading eyes, wordlessly begging for mercy, for something as he pauses for more than a second between nine and ten. His hips lazily jerk into your mouth, his free hand combing his hair back, messily styling it as he smirks. Your saliva was dripping uncontrollably now, pooling at the back of your throat, on your tongue, past your lips. Shouto sighs, his eyes bright with power, with the knowledge that you were so obedient.
“Ten.”
Immediately, you collapse from his cock. Saliva and pre-cum connecting your coughing mouth to his hard dick still. Your lungs ache, and your breathing is frantic as you try to regain a sense of composure. Your tears meaning nothing so long as the inferno between your thighs is tamed. 
“You did so well, baby girl,” Shouto praises, and despite the pain in your lungs, you puff up at the praise. “You did exactly what daddy asked for you, so daddy believes you deserve a reward. Do you agree?”
Unable to speak, your belly tight and warm, and your throat aching slightly, you nod eagerly.
“Use your words, angel,” Shouto coos; he steps out of his pants before squatting before you, his fingers grazing your chin. “Daddy loves it when he hears you speaking.”
“I would love a r-reward, daddy,” you whimper softly. 
Your eyes swim with want, with inexplicable needs and desires. Shouto softens when he notices you nosing into his palms; he brushes a strand of hair out of your face.
“Look at how politely you asked that,” Shouto praises, kissing you softly on the corner of your mouth. “Daddy’s so proud of you, sweetheart.”
You keen some more, your wet eyelashes batting in your excitement and undying love for him.
“Now, daddy wants you to go to your room and take off all the clothes you want. Once you’re ready, I want you to call me in, and then daddy will take excellent care of you, okay?” Shouto commands you, his lips pressing softly onto your cheeks, eyelids, and finally softly onto your lips.
You gasp loudly at the touch, your eyes wide but looking incredibly drunk at the touch.
“Okay!” you giggle, pressing forward and taking his lips into another kiss.
He hums before assisting you to your feet, and you breathlessly laugh as you turn around and skip away towards your room. 
Your room is neat, as is required of Shouto. Your bed is neatly organized; there’s nothing on the floor or on your chair. Everything is put away correctly and cleanly. Grinning, you take off your shirt followed by your bra, shimming off your shorts, you toss away your clothes into your hamper, leaving only your socks on.
Hopping onto your bed, you grab a stuffed animal before turning to face the door and sing.
“Daddy, I’m ready!!!”
You squeal after saying that, excitedly staring at the closed door, eagerly anticipating the way Shouto would walk in. Your eyelashes flutter when you see the doorknob twist and in comes Shouto, who, unlike you, is completely naked.
Now you knew he was fit, even with your mind beginning to sink into your little space, you knew that Shouto was a handsome, fine man. He was built, muscular, and toned. He was tall, his head nearly hitting the top of the door if it wasn’t for the fact he was leaning against the doorframe. There is a slight smile on his face that screams of his pride, his joy of seeing you like this. And his eyes rake like hot coals against your body.
You shudder.
“Aren’t you cute,” Shouto murmurs, pride evident in his tone. He walks towards you, tongue slipping between his lips as he reaches the foot of the bed. “Such a beautiful princess, but now… what does princess need?”
“I need my daddy to take care of me,” you whisper, eyes hooded and mouth turning dry as he begins leaning onto the bed. “I want my daddy.”
“Such a dirty girl,” Shouto says with a chuckle as you begin to lean back onto your bed, your legs spreading for him. “Such a dirty, gorgeous girl.”
Your breathing stutters as the bed moves under his weight, and you’re practically panting as you watch his body slowly crawl over yours. Shouto looks down at you, his eyes deceivingly bright even with the shadows, and your eyes flutter as he leans down. 
You’re expecting a kiss, craving the feeling of his smooth, plump lips on yours. But you gasp in shock, betrayal, and in lust when his lips press against your earlobe. He trails his kisses everywhere, kissing every inch, every centimeter of your face, but never once your lips.
“Daddy, stop teasing!!” you whine loudly, feet kicking on the mattress and hands burying into his hair.
“I’m not teasing you,” Shouto objects, but the grin on his face says otherwise. “Why do you think I’m teasing you? What do you want?” 
“I want daddy’s kisses! Give me your kisses!” you cry with a pout.
With a burst of cheerful laughter that warms your heart and makes your belly flip, Shouto presses downward, capturing your lips with his. The contact is blissful, everything and more that you need. You eagerly kiss him back, making noises that are both sinful and so blessedly innocent as your arms wrap around his neck.
Shouto kisses you back with matching intensity, one elbow resting by your head, the other resting on your hip as he allows your tongue to press into his mouth. He lets you greedily take what you want, his thumb on your hip drawing nonsensical pictures. But as you shudder against him, completely overwhelmed by this all. Shouto probes his tongue into your mouth, gliding his wet, hot muscle against the roof of your mouth and the back of your teeth until your panting, unable to do anything but absorb him.
“So pretty, so cute when you’re like this. A beautiful doll for her daddy,” Shouto whispers into your mouth, and you can only moan in response. 
“I need daddy,” you speak, your glazed eyes unable to even look at Shouto. “I need daddy so bad.”
“Where does my princess need me?” Shouto speaks, his lips trailing down your slick chin and neck. “Right here?” he asks, sinking his teeth onto your neck and sucking softly.
“A-Aahhh~,” you shudder, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as he continues to place hickey after hickey on your neck, your collarbones, and the spot right behind your ear that makes you melt. “Yes, I need you everywhere… I need daddy’s mouth and cummies in me.”
“Your boobs are so cute, baby girl,” Shouto whispers, and you nearly jump out of your skin when you notice that he’s nosing against your breasts. “So pretty, better than anything I could have hoped for.”
You whine loudly, your body arching off the bed as his hot tongue dips out and licks a pebbled nipple. You pant as he licks again, your fingers burying into his hair.
“Such beautiful nipples, you make your daddy so happy,” Shouto praises, and you gasp loudly as his mouth envelopes your nipple. Your cunt throbs with intriguing want, your socked feet traveling up the line of his leg as his teeth graze and move your nipple in his mouth. “You make me the proudest daddy ever.”
His fingers card down your stomach, trailing and lingering around your cunt, and yet never once touching it. It’s tactical, teasing, and mind spinning. Your clit spasms with needed attention, angry with the teasing, desperate for contact — for attention. You make a noise, something not quite human, unable to pull yourself from your growing fuzzy head as Shouto moves from one nipple to the next.
Shouto chuckles, his eyes of blue and grey flashing up at you dangerously, knowingly.
“Don’t tease me, daddy,” you whisper, hips circling, thrusting into the air where you wish his fingers were.
“Okay,” he promises, and as if he could read your thoughts, his teeth gently bit down on your untouched yet demanding nipple. Your head slams against the mattress, your chest once again feeling alive as if you had been electrocuted. He sucks your nipple, teeth tugging on the sensitive flesh, warm tongue, and spit sinking into your nerves. His fingers taking care of your lonesome nipple, keeping it company with gentle, purposeful rolls as he has you sobbing his name. And when you thought the teasing couldn’t get worse, his fingers finally land where you want it most.
On your clit.
“You’re perfect, angel; I love you so much.”
It happens then, like a warm blanket being placed over you — comforting, warm, making the pain in your body hum with only pleasure, and your body trembles with peaking need.
“I wanna… I wanna do more,” you coo, eyes heavy and feigning intoxication as you look up at your daddy. “I wanna please my daddy!”
Your daddy blinks at you, head tilting before a knowing look flashes across his eyes, and he smiles softly, fingers abandoning their spots to press gently against your cheeks. You don’t even mind, so excited and happy that he’s holding you.
“What do you want, sunshine?”
“Can I please suck daddy’s nipples?” you ask with a hopeful face, “He made me feel so good, and I — I wanna make my daddy feel good too!”
“You wanna suck daddy’s nipples? Okay.”
You giggle loudly as the world spins, and you gasp when you’re suddenly sitting straight up, your wet cunt pressing against his hip bone. You laugh lightly, a bell-like giggle, and your hands press to his chest. “That was so fun!”
“Was it—?”
Your daddy can’t finish his sentence because you caught sight of his dusty brown nipples and launched forward, capturing the soft tissue in your mouth. 
It tastes like your daddy, the salt and unique taste he has. And your tongue lashes at it, your cheeks hollowing as you suck at it some more. It hardens in your mouth, a sensation that has you breaking away from him with a beautiful gasp.
“Am I doing a good job?!” you ask, looking at the pretty pink flush on your daddy’s face as he heaves slightly, flustered and a bit out of breath. “My nipples do that when you do a job, daddy!”
“You’re doing so well,” your daddy informs you, and you laugh excitedly. “Do you want… do you want daddy’s cock now?” 
“Daddy’s cock?” you question, heat rushing to your face at the naughty word. “W-What does that mean?”
“Daddy’s cock is how I can make you feel good,” daddy explains, his fingers trailing up and down your thighs, playing with the hem of your socks. 
You giggle as he snaps at it playfully.
“You’ve been doing such a good job, sunshine, and daddy’s cock hurts and wants to be in you.”
“In me?”
“Mmhm, and when it’s in you, you can get daddy’s cummies,” daddy smiles softly. “You want daddy’s cummies, remember?”
You think about it, unsure if you had wanted it, but then you remember that you had said it.
“Will daddy’s cummies help me? My stomach feels funny, a-and I feel wet.”
Daddy nods fast, his body shifting so that he’s in a sitting position and your wet chest presses against him. It’s a sensation you’re unfamiliar with, and you make an embarrassing squeaking noise at the feeling.
“I promise it’ll make you feel better, sunshine.”
You think about it some more, your arms wrapping around his neck as you think. But soon enough, you find yourself giggling and nodding, “I trust my daddy!”
“I’m so glad you do. Daddy’s so glad his baby girl trusts him.”
And the next thing you know, you’re back on your back, and your daddy looms over you, spreading your legs wide apart. You look down at gasp at the sight of daddy’s cock.
“It’s so big!” you shriek, “Where is that going, daddy?!”
“This is going right… there,” daddy emphasizes, pressing two fingers into a part of your body that has you speechless. It’s an intrusion you’re almost unfamiliar with, and yet it makes your head spin and your body hot with need and action from him. “I promise it’ll feel so good; I’ll make you feel so good.”
“O-Okay,” you whimper, watching your daddy pull something against the length of his cock before pressing the swollen head to the entrance that made you feel funny in a good way. “I’m ready, daddy.”
“I’m so glad,” your daddy smiles, and with a gentle kiss to your temple, he presses his cock into you.
“DADDY!” you shriek as his cock pressed into you, filling you out and stretching you out completely. The sensation is overwhelming, piercing pleasure slamming through your body as your arms and legs wrap around him in a vice-like grip. 
Daddy’s arms wrap around your waist, pulling you in close as his hips begin rutting in and out of you. The sensation, the rhythm, is constant and is intoxicating. The creak of the mattress and the loud, grateful cries of your mouth into the crook of his neck fills the room. And then he shifts you just a bit, his hips able to thrust further, more profound, into you, and a wanton, nearly voluptuous noise escapes your mouth. 
“Kiss me, daddy!” you cry, head thrusting back into the mattress, pleasure saturating so deep in your brain you can’t think anymore. “Kiss me, please! Kiss me, kiss me, kissmekissmekiss—”
His mouth is over yours, hot pants and wrecked breathing is passed between open parted lips. Your tongue pushes against his teeth, unable to find his tongue as your hips swirl and thrust up into his thrust cock. Every thrust sends daddy’s cock deeper into your pulling, demanding cunt, stretching you out, sending you further out in an unimaginable way. Your walls spasm uncontrollably, clenching and tightening without a single input. 
But soon, daddy’s shifting up onto his knees, and you can only wildly cry out for him when his arms shift from keeping you close to pressing behind your knees and shoving your knees into the mattress by your shoulders. The most primal, deranged moan rips from your mouth as the stretch sends his cock to a place in your cunt you never could imagine existing. You shake like a child against him, fingers scraping at his back, tearing his skin as your heels dig into his back. The head of his cock buries and brushes against your cervix, making you cry and see colors you’ve never seen before in your life. Your praises for your daddy are endless, and his powerful pounding sends the headboard of your bed crashing against the wall harder and harder.
“How are you feeling, bunny?” Daddy grunts, his face contorted with pleasure and the need to look at you. “Do you feel my cock in you? Can you feel daddy’s cock hitting your cervix?”
“D-Daddy, I-I — ohhh my god!” you sob, your hips pathetically rutting up and down against his cock, stupidly furthering how deep his cock can go, your cervix melting with pleasure, making you oh so dizzy. You can only blabber. “Daddy’s cock is so big, it’s so good! It’s making my stomach feel so funny! I’m so scared!”
“Don’t be scared,” your daddy pleads against your neck, though his speed and strength doesn’t lessen. “Your stomach feeling funny is a good thing; it’s supposed to happen! I promise you, this is how it's supposed to happen. Okay?”
“Okay, daddy, okay, okay, okay,” your voice lessened to a senseless babble. Your sentences blurring together, and your cheek pressed into the mattress, and drool pooled from your lips. 
His pace is completely irreplicable now; every maddening powerful thrust of his hips sends the headboard into the wall. The wet slapping echoing throughout the room when he pierces into you almost drowned out both of your senseless cries. 
It almost scared you, the sensation foreign, but his gentle reminder that this was normal, that you would be okay, kept you from spiraling. Slick erupts in your cunt, an overwhelming heat that throbs right in your core, coating your thighs and your stomach, and with every slam of his hips, it grows only more. 
Intensifying. 
Exhilarating. 
The temperature of your body sizzles off you in immense heat. His lips press against yours, a maddening escape of lust and need exchanging between your parted lips. Your saliva is everywhere, covering both of your faces — connecting them even when you part. But that didn’t stop him; it only fueled him to kiss you entirely, wordlessly praising you, engulfing you with his mouth, daring you with his tongue.
You were barely keeping up with his snapping hips, your mouth begging for more when he suckled on your tongue.
“It’s feeling so funny!” you suddenly cry as your daddy’s fingers pinch and rub against something between your legs that sends electric waves throughout every nerve in your body. “I feel like Imma pee, daddy! I can’t stop it! I can’t stop!”
“It’s okay, let it happen,” your daddy grunts into your ear, and with that, the calming steady of his voice, you let the heat, the tightness in your stomach you feel like is piss, slam through you. 
A tingling, white noise power sensation slams through your entire body. You arch into your daddy, your scream dying on your tongue as your body thumps with a full-body heartbeat. It sends your toes curling, your fingernails scarring his back, and a pathetic, pleasure-derived sob released into your daddy’s sweaty neck. 
His thrusting keeps up for a bit, letting your clenching and relaxing cunt finish him until his thrusts border sloppy, and with a final thrust that has your fingers trembling, he stops, collapsing onto you.
You don’t know what happens next, only that for one moment too long, it’s silent with only heaving breathing and incredibly warm body heat. Your eyes close, and you’re out before you even know it.
.
.
.
You open your eyes to a dark room.
Shouto is next to you, his eyebrows furrowed slightly as he holds a wet, warm cloth to your body, gently cleaning you up.
“Holy shit,” you murmur, your voice scratchy and nearly blown. “Did I drop and pass out after cumming?”
Shouto jumped at your voice, looking up at your face with a tired but satisfied grin, “You did.”
You laugh softly, not quite humorlessly, not entirely because you were amused. You sit up, groaning at how your lower body screams in pain; well, it seemed that your drop really did hide any pain.
“That was fun,” you grin, eyes closing as Shouto presses the cloth to your neck, cleaning the sweat and saliva there. “Glad I decided to speak up on that — ow!”
You pouted as Shouto retreated his pinching fingers from your ribcage.
“You didn’t speak up; you acted out and then spoke up,” Shouto chuckled, sighing as he leaned backward, allowing for you to stretch your tired limbs.
“I still managed to say my truth,” you grin, taking the wet cloth from his hands and focusing on his body. Shouto sat there, still and silent, as you gingerly cleaned… everything off him.
“Well, if we’re saying our truths, can I ask something?” Shouto murmurs, so unlike his typical confident demur. You pause for a moment before nodding, continuing to clean the broken skin on his body. “Would you like to be my girlfriend? I-I know this is cheesy and all, but I feel like I want you outside of our arrangement, outside of the dynamic.”
You can’t help but laugh, making Shouto look panicked, even if for a bit.
“I thought I was the only one.”
.
.
.
“Sero, psst, Sero!” Mina whispers loudly, hitting her friend in the back of the head with an eraser.
“Shit, what?” Sero hisses, a slight annoyance in his face from being hit.
“Look!”
Sero follows Mina’s pointed finger over where you and Shouto sat, in the middle of your own world despite it being smack in the middle of the lecture. He scanned your bodies more intensely and froze at the sight of purple and red bruises on both your necks.
“Is that—?!”
“YES!!!”
“HOLY SHIT! WE CALLED IT!”
“Sero!” boomed the voice of Aizawa, their scariest professor ever. “Is there something you would like to share with the class?”
Sero freezes, an awkward smile blooming on his face as he shrugs, “I’m just noticing some hickies today, that’s all!”
There could have been no casualties in this admittance; after all, Aizawa didn’t give two shits about hickies on university students. But the loud, panicked “shit!” coming from you was undoubtedly damning. 
Shouto snickered, his fingers tugging at the collar of your shirt as his fingers brushed against the collection of bruises, “I think they look nice.”
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Text
“Ready?” Tim asked. He took a last look over the microphone on the desk in front of him, then sideways at Dick and Damian, arranged on either side of him, a few feet away, with their own microphones.
Dick held up a sheet of paper. “I have the question list.” 
“I think that’s it, then.”
“Are we supposed to do some kind of intro?”
“Uh, unclear.” Tim snapped his fingers and leaned into his microphone.
“This is a podcast-interview thing,” he said. “We’re answering questions. Okay, I nailed the intro, so let’s hear the first one on the list.”
“Can somebody please explain Bruce Wayne’s family?” Dick read. “I know he has a bunch of kids, but I can’t figure out how many or where he got them from.”
“Interesting phrasing on the back half of that,” said Tim. “I feel like something expensive that went on sale.”
He clutched a hand to an imaginary necklace in feigned admiration. “Why Bruce! You must tell me where you got those!”
“You were never expensive,” said Damian. “Perhaps a grocery check-out display?”
Tim sighed and turned sideways, so he could look Damian in the face. “Being honest, I didn’t think you knew enough about shopping to make that joke.”
“Understandable.”
“I would never set you up on purpose.”
“I know.”
“Let’s get back to the question,” Dick suggested. “Can somebody please explain Bruce Wayne’s family?”
“I don’t know,” said Tim. He swung back towards the microphone, grimacing. “Maybe? It’s complicated.” 
“Complicated,” Dick repeated, flatly.
“Yeah, complicated.”
“It’s your own family.”
“That doesn’t make it simple,” said Damian.
“Do we get time to make an outline?” Tim asked, emboldened by the unexpected support. “Before we do our presentation?”
Damian half-smiled at that, while Dick looked the two of them over with a skeptical expression. 
“Are you telling me you don’t understand our own timeline?”
Tim waved a hand in a why-are-you-looking-at-me kind of gesture. “What, does anybody?”
“I do.”
“You experienced it linearly! We came in partway through, it’s different.”
“Unbelievable.”
“You take the question then.”
“If the two of you can’t manage it,” said Dick, with a distinctly sarcastic shrug.
“Obviously I can do it,” said Tim, suddenly defensive. He knew Dick was trying to get a rise, but Dick was good at that, and it was working. “I’m just saying it’s a confusing story.”
Tim pointed in Damian’s direction. “Back me up.”
“Absolutely not.”
“We can take turns,” said Dick, apparently satisfied with his victory. “Okay. Thomas and Martha Wayne died when Bruce was eight years old. Nineteen years after that, when Bruce was twenty-seven, he attended Haly’s Circus the night two acrobats fell to their deaths during a trapeze routine. Bruce took in their surviving son, me.”
Dick held up a finger. “My name is Dick Grayson, and I was Bruce’s ward from age twelve until the day I turned eighteen.”
“Which is different that being adopted,” Tim put in, “so bear that in mind for later.”
“Right. At eighteen, I became an adult, so Bruce wasn’t my guardian anymore. A year after that, Bruce met and adopted Jason Todd.”
“The second child he took in,” said Tim.
“But the first child he adopted,” said Damian.
“Exactly,” said Dick. “In that moment, Bruce was thirty-four with one former ward and one adopted son— which again, are distinct concepts.”
Tim nodded. “Jason Todd passed away three years after his adoption, when he was fifteen.”
“I never met him,” said Damian, straight-faced.
“Me neither,” said Tim, like he hadn’t spoken to Jason that morning. “I did meet Bruce though, at around that time.”
“The next few years are… harder to explain, I guess,” said Dick.
Tim raised an eyebrow in Damian’s direction, shaking his head in mock disgust. “See? Now he admits it.”
“Unbelievable.”
“The nerve.” Tim grinned as smugly as he could manage, so that Dick could see. Was Tim being difficult on purpose? Absolutely. Was he going to change that? Absolutely not. 
“Right, it can be my turn. I’m Tim Drake, and I met Bruce when I was thirteen years old.”
“I was…” Dick glanced upwards, like he was trying to remember— or, failing that, calculate. “Right now you’re…?”
“Do you not know my age?”
“I probably do.” Dick tapped a finger against the desk a few times, looking pensive. Eventually, he gave up.
“I’m blanking.” 
“Congratulations, Damian,” said Tim. “You are no longer my least favorite sibling.”
“I was your least favorite?” Damian asked, with such innocence that Tim couldn’t stop himself from bursting out laughing.
It took him a few moments to regain control. “You looks so proud of yourself,” he told Damian, as soon as he could.
“Thank you, I am.”
“I’m writing you both out of my will,” muttered Dick, “as soon as we get home.” 
“Shame.” Tim swiped a sweatshirt sleeve over his eyes, still grinning. “I had my eye on your terrible CD collection.”
“The estate in its entirety, I believe,” said Damian. 
“Shut up,” said Dick. “Keep answering the question.”
“Yeah, yeah, give me a minute.” Tim held up a hand to count on his fingers. “We did circus, Jason, Jason’s death— oh right, me. I met Bruce when I was thirteen and Dick was twenty-two, which would make Bruce thirty-seven.”
“I would have gotten there eventually.”
“Go to hell. Two years after that, when Bruce was thirty-nine, he met our sister, Cassandra Cain.”
“She was seventeen then,” said Damian.
Dick nodded. “Simplifying, we met her through a family friend. That same year, Bruce adopted me.”
“Which puts Father at thirty-nine with two sons—”
“One deceased,” added Tim.
“Having already met Tim and Cass,” Dick finished. 
“Now if you think that’s confusing,” said Tim, gesturing broadly, “you’re right, it is.”
Damian nodded. “It gets even worse.”
“Yeah. For another two years we were— again, simplifying— in roughly the same place. After that, Bruce adopted me—”
“—making my life even worse.”
“Shut up, you weren’t even around yet. At forty-one, Bruce had three sons, one deceased.”
“That’s Todd.”
“And then came—”
“Me.” Damian raised his own hand. “My name is Damian Wayne, and I am my father’s genetic son. We met for the first time when Father was forty-one, and I was ten.”
“Four sons,” said Dick. “By age it’s me, Jason, Tim, Damian.”
“But from Bruce’s perspective,” said Tim, “Jason, then Dick, then me, then Damian.”
“I’d note,” said Damian, “that I was born several years before Todd’s adoption, and since I have been a Wayne from the beginning, I am both my father’s youngest child and his first child, whether he was aware of me or not.”
“But wait!” Tim interjected. “There’s more!”
“We’re almost done,” said Dick. “We already mentioned meeting our sister Cassandra. Bruce adopted her formally after Damian arrived, while Bruce was still forty-one.”
“Which means,” said Tim, “that we can do a final tally. Damian?”
“Yes?”
“Assist me. We have Dick—”
“Alive,” said Damian.
“Jason—”
“Not alive.”
“Cass—”
“Alive.”
“Me—”
“Alive, regrettably.”
“And you.”
“Yes.” Damian sat back in his chair. Tim leaned forwards in his, so he could put his elbows down on the desk. 
“That’s pretty much it,” he said. “I won’t say how old we are right now, because it turns out Dick doesn’t know, and I don’t want to help him.”
Dick rolled his eyes. “I barely know my own age.”
“You’re eighty. One thousand, nine hundred, and forty. Some other number. I don’t know, why would I remember a very basic fact about my own family member?”
“To be fair to him,” Damian put in, “you are very forgettable.”
“And you’re my least favorite again.”
“Shame. As a last fact, I’d also note that Martha and Thomas Wayne died when Father was very young, so he was primarily raised by the butler.”
“That’s Alfred,” Tim agreed, “and his formal title is butler, but he’s also, you know, our grandfather.” 
“Can we move to another question now?”
“I guess?” Tim looked over at Dick for confirmation. 
“I don’t know,” Dick sighed. “Maybe.” 
-----------
Merry Christmas, my loves
timeline post / google doc
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issaxcharlie · 4 years
Text
Owen hosts Couple tag
Pairing: Charlie Gillespie x Artist Fem Reader
Summary: We play pretend world guys✨ (I missed them, I’m SoRryyyy.) So, Charlie wants some reassurance after starting to prepare his proposal to Y/N and makes this “genius” plan with Owen to find her answers without being suspicious. (She totally knows tho) also a lot of friendship fighting between Owen and Y/N because I had to, I made myself laugh a lot so I’ll hope at least makes you smile🤧🤣Anyways, have fun!
This is also my weird and nonsense way of doing sweet @marvel-ousnesss request of the we play pretend couple to do a couple buzzfeed quiz 💖
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The blonde takes a deep breath before picking up his phone and heading to the living room, where his couple of friends and roommates are on the couch. Charlie is lying down watching television and Y/N is lying on top of him with her face snuggled into his neck, he hugging her around the waist while gently running his fingers down her skin.
The plan was simple, to help Charlie plan the perfect proposal and give him an idea of what she expects from her wedding, they were doing a “Couple tag” video. That way the questions wouldn’t be as suspicious. Of course, there are easier ways but we are talking about Charlie. They convinced Kenny to call her and tell her that it was to promote the second season that is currently being filmed, and she agreed.
Charlie mentioned many times that someone else had to ask her the questions because she reads her boyfriend like an open book, so his improvisation had to be perfect to keep his best friend’s clever girlfriend out of the hook.
He decided to start the live from his room so as not to give the singer the opportunity to think much about it, so he sits in the living room and focuses the image on his friends who are not affected in the least by their positions. After all, everyone already knows that they are a couple and that they live together.
“Hello, I’m Y/N Y/L! And yes, that sexy, beautiful, adorable and talented man is my boyfriend, Charlie Gillespie.” He blushes as the memory of their first night back as a couple invades the mind of the Canadian, who had his girlfriend in exactly this position when she was, as she said, 'practicing' her introduction. Sadly, this time it will not end like that night because his best friend and about 500,000 people are watching.
“Welcome to my first edition of the Couple tag everyone! Here's my first guest couple, I know it’s not much, but I promise to find someone worthwhile next time, this is just for practice." Charlie laughs but looks nervous. Instead, his girlfriend sits down and rolls her eyes.
"I can't believe you chose him over a puppy or a hamster." The girl says to her boyfriend while laughing at her friend's offended reaction.
“I'm going to write that down in my long enemies list, but for now I have a live to lead. Okay guys, so basically I will ask them questions and I will also choose who answers them because I’m the only one hot enough to call the shots here."
She laughs and sticks out her tongue. Charlie sits down too and she takes his hand to fiddle with it. She keeps arguing for a few minutes with Owen but shows no signs of not wanting to play the game so he starts before she regrets it.
“Okay, first one is for Charlie. How did you guys met? This is actually a good one because a lot of the fans think you met on set and are like this really intense couple who started to date the very first week without even knowing each other’s last names.”
They both start laughing at the comment. The truth is that they have seen multiple posts and comments online from people judging their relationship and how fast they were going, especially when they did that last interview together and Y/N said that Charlie was taking his sweet time to ask for marriage, since for the fans they only have one year and months of knowing each other.
“We have known each other since forever. Our moms were best friends and we were born only a few weeks apart so we've always been together. We grew up as best friends and were dating before Y/N moved to New York to play Daniela on Stardust." Charlie tries to shake off the memory of the last tearful kiss before Y/N got on the plane. Hopefully he’ll never have to part from her for so long again. Sometimes he can't even understand how he managed to get through those 5 years.
"So no, we don't know each other for just one year, but 22." She adds, kissing his nose.
"Y/N, honey. I didn't ask you, don't be rude and wait for your turn." Owen says teasingly, the girl laughs and throws a pillow at him.
“Okay, rude again. Y/N, What is the first thing that he ever gave you?”
“Oh my, this beautiful valentines card! We were like eight I think. The paper is red, and it is filled with gold and silver glitter stars. Inside is a big star that has written in the middle, “My bright star, happy valentine’s day. I love you. And a lot of doodles of my favorite things, like my guitar, a microphone, chocolate, and a little Charlie. Just adorable, I still have it and to date it is one of my favorite gifts.”
The emotion with which she responds makes Charlie's heart melt. That was the first time he called her bright star, and he kept saying it to her during every audition, every performance, every practice. The exact reason not even she knows, but maybe one of these days he'll tell her.
“Rude and a liar. The 22-year-old Charlie's handwriting is horrible, the 8-year-old Charlie handwriting could only be close to a squiggle, nothing more. Oh, and probably only you had the ability to read it. I very much doubt that was beautiful."
She opens her mouth in surprise and wrinkles her nose, feigning annoyance. “I liked you more when you had a crush on me. You were nicer.”
Owen's eyes widen and he turns to see Charlie looking for help but he just starts laughing. “Wh- What are you talking about, mean girl?”
“Oh c’mon, you totally did, Ohio.” She smiles at the camara while showing a superiority face.
“Really? I already told you a thousand times, I'm from Oklahoma. But hey, how funny, forget about Stardust and audition for Funny Girl!”
“Jokes on you, I would nail Fanny Brice.”
“Man, defend my honor!”
“Bro, I can’t. You totally did, I even got worried for a second there.” It is incredible to think about how their friendship has grown and matured over time. They went from Owen fangirling every time he saw her to being really good friends. All these fights are more of a show than anything else, the truth is that when nobody is recording they tend to be very cool around each other and the three of them have quite a pleasant dynamic now that they are living together for the show.
“I won, Idaho. Now, please continue.”
“Well, my friends embarrassed me on my own live. I can already imagine the headlines tomorrow. Anyways, Charlie, Would you let yourself in danger to save her?”
Charlie starts laughing as he drops his head on the girl's shoulder. "I think she's not going to let me lie, I always have and will continue to do so. For me it's always her safety first."
"Which has given me more than a scare but he's so freakin stubborn." She adds while looking stressed and Owen can't help but imagine all the situations Charlie must have put himself in before.
“I prefer you scared than in danger, beautiful.” He grins and kiss her lips, her facial expresions relaxing at his touch.
“Gross. Y/N, do you prefer a small wedding or a big wedding?” She can feel Charlie tense at the question, so she leans her body back to support it against him and give him a lowkey reassurance.
“I hadn't really thought about it, but I know that my almost mother-in-law has been planning it all her life so you should check with her.”
His mom. Y/N is right, as always. His mom is their biggest shipper and the wedding is probably something she’ll want to be an importart part of, maybe way more than with his brothers since she adores the girl as much as her own kids, and the fact that his girlfriend is even more aware of that fact than him makes him smile.
“Do you love it when someone refers you as ‘her boyfriend’?”
“Always. Especially if it's her. She has that little knack of saying it whenever she can and it’s the most adorable thing in the world.”
“Oh I thought she was just showing it off to me because she was intimidated by our chemistry. I don't feel so special anymore.” Charlie chuckles and sends a secret air kiss to his friend, who just smirks and fakes to blush.
“How would you handle it if you thought another man was hitting on her?” Owen asks the guitarist raising an eyebrow.
“She usually takes care of that situations, her method is to take me by the shirt and kiss me hard on the lips. I’m never going to complain about that.” Charlie says smirking and blushing.
“We are a celebrity couple, for better or for worse. I’m not having him in a fight when I can just kiss that beautiful lips and solve the problem.” Charlie smiles as he wraps his girlfriend in his arms, so she can't see his face with the next question.
“What do you dream of your marriage? Mmm, let’s go with Y/N.”
“Anything will be perfect if I spend it with the man of my life. My Char is my everything and my biggest dream is to live my whole life laughing by his side.” Owen pretends to vomit as Charlie fills her with kisses under the ear, clearly moved by her answer.
“Let’s get to someting less cheesy because I really can’t with you both anymore. Has anyone ever tried to break your relationship?”
Charlie rolls his eyes and thinks for a moment. “Yes. We were like seventeen, and this guy from hockey had this big crush on her, so he tried to flirt with her many times even though everyone knew she was my girlfriend, until one day that he made her too uncomfortable and things escalated between him and me. Luckily my brothers intervened before something else happened because he was much bigger than me. I would have totally lost.” He chuckles while his girlfriend turns to see his face and gives him another sweet kiss on the corner of his lips.
“Yes guys, they are this annoying all the time. How do I survive? A lot of yoga. Next question, If three guys are standing, and you have been blindfolded, then how would you recognize him? Guys we actually did this like three days ago on set.”
“It was awesome! We put my bandana on her eyes and since it had my smell she couldn't be guided by that to choose.” Charlie explains excited.
“We got the three of us, first Jeremy then Charlie and then me in front of her, then she began to lightly touch Jer's hand. Then she went to Charlie's, it didn't take her a minute to recognize him and she took him from the hair and draw him to her lips, it was actually a pretty smooth and risky move, I’ll give you a point for that, prodigy brat.”
“Char's body inadvertently reacts to mine. It was pretty easy to tell the difference, especially after touching Jeremy's hand.” She turns her head to give Charlie a soft kiss on the lips and then Owen starts laughing like crazy and telling her to come see a specific comment.
She gets up and goes to sit next to him, Owen changes the camera so that now they are the ones in the image and she begins to read aloud. “Charlie I could give you my... Oh my god!” Owen continues laughing, resting his head on his friend who simply watches the screen in shock.
“Thank god Charlie doesn’t know how to read.” Owen, who was just recovering from his giggling fit, laughs again as Charlie giggles and sticks his tongue out at his girlfriend.
"Who needs to read when you look this hot with sleeveless shirts." He jokes while winking at his partner, which seems to melt in front of the camera that is still pointing directly at her.
“The man has a point. Okay, Y/N move your ass back there I’m still in charge of this show. Would you prefer a silver or gold ring?”
She makes sure to move off the screen and sticks her middlefinger at Owen before heading back to her place with her boyfriend. “Good and really random question.” She smirks, not making contact with her boyfriend. “I don't have a preference, but I would love Char to design it. Obviously with the correct guidance, but yeah he choosing every detail and then explaining to me why he choose it would be the dream.”
Charlie smiles. He was already imagining something like this after so many years of gifting and has already been visiting the jewelry store several times to make sure he designed the perfect ring for his girl, a slight feeling of pride filling him.
“Which series does she thinks resembles your relationship?”
“She loves Boy Meets World and see a lot of us in Cory and Topanga. I can totally see it too, after all they too have known each other their whole lives and have a bond as strong as ours.”
“Well that explains why she’s always telling me ‘Life is though, get a helmet’ instead of actually help me.” She grins at the memory of Charlie’s last prank on Owen a couple of days ago, it was really good since she secretly helped him plan it.
“Man, It wasn’t personal. I do the same with Char. I’m not going to be known for being the one ruining prank war. Take it to the end of the road, if you need me to take you idiots out of jail I totally will... eventually.”
“My girl, everyone. Isn’t she awesome?” He watches her adoringly and she blushes in response, buring her head on his neck.
“She always has this enormous energy and personality but all it takes is for you to see her for her to melt, that’s... kind of cute actually. Okay next question Stardust, What about If Charlie tells you to marry him tomorrow?”
For the thousandth time that night Y/N can feel Charlie stressing out. The fact that he planned together with Owen and Kenny all of this just to make sure he was on the same page with her is the most adorable thing in the world.
“I’m pretty sure he knows I would always say yes. He could have gotten on a plane when we were 18 and told me ‘I don't want to be without you, let's get married.’ And I would have said yes. He’s my person, I have nothing to think about, I have always known it’s him."
Now it's Charlie's turn to melt, and Owen himself can't help but smile.
Charlie's confidence in what he has planned is higher than ever, and the day when he can finally make it official is near. He has been dreaming of this day with his Y/N for years and he will finally get it.
“Well guys, that was it, give it up to my favorite couple of dumbasses and please stop asking obvious questions. Will I be Y/N’s maid of honor? Of course I will. Oh, and tune in next week to see me becoming Kenny’s new favorite after I challenge Y/N in a dance duel with I got the music. Golden star is GOING DOWN."
Thank you for reading✨
NEXT PART HERE
Taglist: @writerinlearning, @ghostofmgg @strangerthanfanfiction713, @thebloodthirstyvampress @kinda-really-lost, @kcd15, @magnet-girl, @aliandthephantoms, @stxrkspidey, @pinkrockstar19, @s0uz4s, @shycupcakealissa @cookiebuba, @fangirlangioma, @sageellsworth05, @twist3dtinkerbell, @sunsetcurvenotsunsetswerve, @caitsymichelle13 , @ifilwtmfc, @luckylouiebug, @bibliophilewednesday, @totomoshi, @siennanoelle01, @lunashadow6955, @bookfrog247, @morganayennefertyrell, @kiss-themoongoodbye, @rachelle3musicals, @imsydneywalker, @really-dont-forget-it @agentstarkid @talksoprettyjjx @kaitieskidmore1 @lukeys-giggle @katie-navarro @crybabyddl @cocopuffs0211 @marvel-ousnesss @blackhood5sos @dpaccione @tuttigunner
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anunvalidcritic · 3 years
Text
INVINCIBLE: S1-EP8
(DISCLAIMER: MY OPINION IS MY OWN AND CAN BE DEEMED INVALID TO THOSE WHO DON’T CARE FOR IT.)
It’s the last episode.... Let’s dive in boys, girls, and non-binary folks!!!
                          WHERE I REALLY COME FROM
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Is it just me or did this week go by really fast??? (went by to fuckin’ fast bcuz I fuckin’ forgot!)
alright so we’re starting off by staring at the grass... that’s a pretty calm start..
nvm it’s raining blood
INVINCIBLE looks sick asf
well, I’m glad that was his first reaction
“It’s me Mark, It’s just me.” - OMNI-MAN 
BRO VILTRUMITES ARE FUCKIN’ SAVAGES
DEBBIE has always been a baddie
Bro OMNI-MAN’s storyline is fuckin’ amazing
“You love me, you love Mom! I know you do.” - INVINCIBLE MARK
go ahead and that shit out now my dude
“Do you have any idea how long we live? The older we get, the slower we age. Viltrumite DNA is so pure you’re nearly full-blooded. You’ll live for thousands of years. Do you understand what that means? Everyone you know and love will be gone before you even look thirty.” - OMNI-MAN 
well damn thanks for dropping this knowledge on us, sir.
ICONIC DIALOGUE
OMNI-MAN - “I do love your mother. But she’s more like a... a pet to me.”
MARK - “A pet?”
OMNI-MAN - “This is the only way, Mark.” *as he reaches for MARK’s shoulder*
MARK - “Don’t touch me!”
NO THIS MOTHERFUCKER DIDN’T!!!!! DID Y’ALL HEAR WHAT HE JUST SAID!!!??!!?!?!?! I CAN’T DO THIS BRO!!!!!!
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go off MARK, talk yo shit!
“I don’t give a shit about Viltrum. And I don’t care if I live a fuckin’ million years. This is my home and I won’t let you destroy it!” - INVINCIBLE
Bro, don’t let your daddy beat yo' ass! You are a grown man now.
dude, this title for the last episode is fucking exceptional!
those dudes in the jets are gonna lose their fuckin’ lives
You know, it’s unfortunate that they know that shit is just a distraction for him and not life threating. 
He didn’t have to demolish that man like that...
this man is ruthless
“Did seeing that man lose his life distrube you? Did it hurt you?! Well, let’s see how you handle this.” - OMNI-MAN
👁 👄 👁
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Don’t you just love it when motherfuckers just stop and stare when they see a disaster happening??
Now I understand that the building is more than likely collapsing on it’s own, but I wouldn’t be surprised if his dad is pushng it from the other side. 
They’re really fuckin’ up Chi-Town right...
I could’ve told you that woman wasn’t gonna make it...
as evil as this man is... his character is amazing 
I love seeing MARK rage this dude just goes in!
“For the first time in your life, I’m telling you the truth.” - OMNI-MAN
what is he aboour.
THAT WASN’T FUCKIN’ NECCESSARY!!!!!!!!!!!!
... their suits need more than a deep dry cleaning
He didn’t have to swerve MARK like taht!
the clouds look nice...
okay, that’s enough OMNI-MAN!!
I wish they would’ve at least kept ZACHARY QUINTO’s voice because I miss the guy
See, this episode is a prime (pun intended) and I mean a PRIME example of how raising your kids with a good upbringing is important. If MARK was raised the way OMNI-MAN had intended to raise him, then he would’ve been a complete asshole... an extremely strong asshole, but an asshole. 
you know this is very triggering... RIP GLENN
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“You wanna die for this planet? Fine. What’s seventeen more years? I can always start again... make another kid.” - OMNI-MAN
FLASHBACK
YOUNG MARK = LITTLE LEAGUE BASEBALL
“Look at Mark. You and I made him. He’s ours. When he feels joy, we feel joy. See that look on his face. How can you see this and not feel the same way. As we get older it’s harder to feel that.” - DEBBIE
GOD! Can Sandra Oh be my fuckin’ mom!?!?!
NOLAN still ain’t shit....
~~~~~~
I like how he had that flashback while he was beating his son to a pulp
homeboy has to get dentures now...
only a narcissist would say some shit like this
“You dad, I’d still have you.” - MARK
that’s fuckin’ heartbreaking....
ik it’s not funny but MARK looks horrible..
looks like OMNI-MAN went back home cryin’
AMBER feelin’ like a complete dick as she should!! (I was rooting for y’all)
how long was he out??
DEBBIE you married an evil motherfucker, but it’s not your fault
Who tf cursed MONSTER GIRL?? She must’ve said or done some foul shit... And who tf fucked up CECIL’s face??
let it out DEBS let it out..
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ik tf AMBER just didn’t!! deadass thought it was EVE...
lol the way WILLIAM saved that was hilarious!!
“We can try but it’s literally all anyone is tlking about in the world” - WILLIAM 
come on now dude
😆 I could’ve sworn DUPLI-KATE looked asian and not white like EVE. WILLIAM is trifflin’
I was gonna say during the montage clip I knew one of those species looked familiar.
MARK + ALLEN THE ALIEN = BEST BUDS
Mars is gettin’ fucked up from the ground up.
ICONIC DIALOGUE
ALLEN THE ALIEN - “What’s the plan in the meantime?”
INVINCIBLE - “Finish high school, I guess.”
ALLEN THE ALIEN - “Oh, alright good. Sounds good. What is high school?”
_____
I liked the way it ended! It’s unfortunate that we must bid ado to this lovely grotesque show of INVINICBLE, but alas we must in order to move onto greater things and the world beyond. Hopefully, they’ll get confirmed for a second season because I really don’t want them to end on such an extraordinarily high point...
List of Episodes with link :) ~
EP1 - EP2 - EP3 - EP4 - EP5 - EP6 - EP7 - EP8
EDIT: Thank god Amazon has decided to renew the series for not just the second season but a third as well!!!! FUCK YEAH!!
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blu-joons · 3 years
Text
The Coincidence ~ Kim Mingyu
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You pushed the door open of the coffee store, letting go of a high as the scent of coffee beans struck you immediately. It had always been your favourite place to visit, a place where you could sit for hours and simply watch the world go by.
“Hey Y/N,” Soyeon smiled as you made your way over to the counter. “Let me guess, ice americano with extra shot?” She questioned, already knowing what your answer would be.
“How do you get it right every time,” you laughed, reaching for your purse in the bottom of your bag, pulling out enough to pay. It was the same routine for you most days when you showed your face, the store was almost like a second home for you.
“I’ll bring it over when it’s ready.”
Your head shook, “I’ll wait today, I could do with being on my feet a bit more these days.”
Soyeon nodded, turning around to start working on your drink. The queue behind you was empty as you waited, scanning the store for the perfect table. As you did, you noticed the door opening and a tall gentleman walking in.
As you felt him near you, you reverted your eyes back to Soyeon, trying to ignore the presence of the man beside you. “It’s a lovely day,” he smiled, happy to engage in polite conversation with you.
“You clearly don’t know the city well at all.”
Your head turn to glance at the man and offer him a warming smile, only as you did, you felt your breath hitch. The eyes of Mingyu stared back down at you, the same guy you’d met at a Seventeen fan meet just a couple of weeks ago.
“I know your face,” he smiled, pointing across at you, “or at least I hope that you’re the same face.”
“That depends on where you know me from,” you laughed, “if you’ve spotted me on a wanted list, I’m definitely not who you think I am, and I will run out of this store before you call the cops.”
“Of course, not. Forgive me if I’m wrong, but weren’t you at a fan meet a couple of weeks ago?” He questioned, sighing in relief when your head nodded. “I knew that I’d remember a face like yours.”
Your brows knitted together as Soyeon returned with your drink. “What do you mean a face like mine? Is there something wrong with my face Mingyu?”
“No, the opposite actually. Your face is very memorable, in a very good way.”
You smiled appreciatively in his direction before spinning on your heels, spotting a table free by the window. Once you’d placed your jacket around your chair and sat down, you pulled your phone out of your pocket, opening up your photo album as you looked back over the photos that you’d taken just a couple of weeks ago.
Whilst Mingyu ordered his drink from Soyeon, he couldn’t help but keep glancing across at you. He wore a wide smile as he watched you, engrossed in whatever it was on your phone, admiring the concentration you put into it.
“She’s a nice girl,” Soyeon suddenly informed him as she handed his drink across to him.
“I’ll take your word for it. Maybe I’ll go over and say hello properly.”
With his drink in hand, Mingyu thanked Soyeon before walking around the store, stopping when he got to your table. Your eyes were drawn to a pair of blue jeans in your peripheral vision, glancing up to see Mingyu grinning back down at you.
“I was just wondering if this seat was taken?” He laughed, pointing to the free blue chair that was opposite it to you. “Do you mind if I join you at all?”
Your head shook, waving your hand across for him to take a seat. On the outside, you were playing it cool in front of Mingyu, but on the inside, every part of you wanted to scream. You couldn’t quite believe that it was him who was sat in front of you, as if it were some weird coincidence that you were to see him so soon again.
Neither of you wanted to be the first to speak as you looked across at him, resting your hands around your coffee mug with your phone quickly discarded of when you saw Mingyu beside you.
Similarly, Mingyu also held onto his coffee mug. Looking between the floor and you several times before finally deciding on what to say. “I love to take the time to thank all of our fans, especially those who attend all of our fan meets.”
Your eyes shot up at the sudden sound of his voice. “I should be thanking you for making such good music. But I have to ask, what made you remember my face? There were thousands of fans at the theatre on that day.”
“I have a good memory for certain people, people that I want to remember, I usually end up doing so,” he informed you, raising his right eyebrow. “There must have been something about you on that day that I wanted to remember.”
A bright red blush quickly crept to your cheeks, leaving you no choice but to try and laugh your way through the embarrassment. You knew that Mingyu was watching every little thing that you did, only making things worse for you as you tried not to make too big a fool of yourself.
At the sudden silence between you both, you brought your coffee cup to your lips, taking a huge sip before Mingyu spoke again. “It feels a bit like a coincidence that I’ve seen you again, I really wanted to say hello at the fan meet properly.”
“You guys are incredibly busy though, if you took the time to say hello to every fan properly the likelihood is that you’d still be there now,” you teased, but Mingyu’s head shook back at you.
“Trust me, I’d never take the time to thank every single fan, just the ones that capture my attention,” he complimented, noticing how your body tensed up at his words.
By this point, you knew it was pointless to even try and mask the red glow that was on your cheeks, even if Mingyu pretended not to notice it. You were sure Mingyu was just trying to find a way of the conversation at this point whilst you continued to blush.
You watched on as Mingyu took the cardboard band off from around his mug, reaching into his bag to pull out a pen. “I can’t stay for long here today, but I hope when I tell you that you caught my attention at the fan meet that day, you’ll know a little bit more of what I meant. Very few fans catch my eye like you did, and I don’t even know your name.”
“It’s Y/N,” you whispered, watching as his eyes lit up, scribbling it down on the piece of paper. “Can I ask what you plan on doing with that bit of paper seeing as you wrote my name on it.”
“You’ll see in a minute, just be a bit patient, Y/N,” he chuckled, placing his hand over it.
Once he was done, he turned it over and slid it across the table. When you went to pick it up, he quickly stopped you, standing up from the table.
“You have to wait until I’ve left before you can turn that around,” he instructed, picking up his coat and walking out of the store with his hot mug still in hand.
You spun around to watch him closely, waiting until he’d walked out of the door before turning the piece of paper around, looking down at what he’d written.
Y/N, here’s my number when you get the chance, text me. I want to take you out before we move onto the next city. Mingyu x
---
Masterlist
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Text
Evak Fics - Pining
I’m posting half of this list first because I started it a long time ago and it’s taking me a while to go through all the fics. So I will update with more later. 
*** Mutual Pining *** Pining - I might put mutual pining under pining if we don't see much of the other person pining. *** Bonus - The pining is not between Evak 
For the anon from this ask.
I will try my best to separate out the mutual pining fics but I think it will be tricky if it's not tagged as that. So bear with me and let me know of any mistakes or fics I missed out on.
. First Posting : 11 July 2021. Under 15k fics.  .
******* Mutual Pining *******
Even the Illustrator by eavk (SERIES, 3 fics) - An AU where Even’s an illustrator who draws what kids describe to him for YouTube, and Isak is the smitten father of a six year old with a wild imagination.
Postcards by HedwigsTalons (1k words) - Isak's wall is covered in postcards. Isak is supportive of Even's career and he cherishes every postcard but the long distance relationship hurts.
Feelings Come and Go, But Not With You by ultimatelawrence (1.9k words) - It was meant to just be a holiday romance. A fling. Nothing like love. But now it was six months later and Even was still pining over the angel he had met in Paris.
let's pretend into forever by Bellakitse (2.3k words) - “Let me get this straight,” Even starts. “You lied to your boss about having a boyfriend, told her it was me, and now you need me to go with you to your science nerd dinner?”
i will love you until the very, very end (and you were my best friend) by traumatic (2.4k words) - Isak and Even share something in the cool waters of a spring fed pool that no one, not even their fiancées, could ever understand.
Breathe Me by photographer_of_thoughts (4.5k words) - A high school reunion brings Isak and Even together after ten years, and neither of them can forget what happened when they were both seventeen.
Everything comes back to you by MermaidsandMermen (4.8k words) - Light pining. A dribble oneshot for Halloween, full of fluff and Even and Isak and a tiny pinch of angst. Because we need some Halloween fluff. That's all.
Fuck Tha Police by MacksDramaticShenanigans (5.2k words) - “This,” Eskild said, spinning the photograph around so everyone could see it, “is a picture of the latest piece of vandalism from our favorite little street punk.” he finished with a heavy sigh. They are both cops.
i tried to be strong but i lost it (i knew it was wrong, i’m beyond it) (6.3k words) - Even has a thing for his intern, Isak has a thing for his boss, they're both a bit clueless and their friends just want them to get their shit together.
all I see is you by littlemovie (Lejla) (7.4k words) - “Aren’t you gonna ask me why I’m a bad person?” Isak somehow whined and demanded at the same time. Jonas blew out a breath in amusement, which made the dark curls on his forehead move with his breath. “I’m guessing it has something to do with that guy, Even, from the coffeeshop?”
Addicted by endlessandinfinite (8k words) - They’re both completely, overwhelmingly, and incredibly...addicted. Best friends to lovers.
Calleth You, Cometh I by Kollakolan (8.4k words) - “Isak!” Mikaels pipes up. “Didn´t you two have a thing?” he turns to Even. A thing, Even thinks to himself. Yes, Isak and him definitely had a thing. They actually had a low-key thing going for years, but it never really turned into something more. The timing was never right.
In Vino Veritas by Sabeley (9.9k words) - After seven years apart, Isak wakes up to find Even in his bed and a wedding ring on his finger.
Let Me by GayaIsANerd (10.6k words) - Summer brings a lot of things. The smell of sunscreen. The sound of children playing in the shallow part of the lake. The taste of cold beer. The sweet tang of weed. But most importantly, summer brings Isak.
Something Borrowed, Something Blue by BluebeardsWife (10.8k words) - Fake dating AU, you know the drill. Even hires Isak to pretend to be his boyfriend at his ex's wedding. This Means Nothing to Me by cuteandtwisted (10.8k words) - Isak and Even are friends and roommates who don't believe in love anymore (after they both get dumped by other people) until they do. Aka the Friends/Roommates-To-Lovers Don't you let me go by solarpower21 (12.2k words) - In this universe, Isak and Even are roomates and nothing more. Except that there is something more between them and they both know that but are too stubborn to admit it. Too bad it takes a very unfortunate event for them to face the truth. Burn Down The Disco by TheGirlNoOneKnows5 (12.2k words) - A 'Black Mirror: Hang The DJ' AU in which Isak and Even decide to rebel against a futuristic dating system that pairs users up with various people in order to find their perfect match.
La Petite Mort by EvenbechNeiheim (13.4k words) - Even Bech Næsheim is one of those cool and very hot media students at Uni who might just got the task to make a film project. Eskild is the best wingman and things like accidently falling in love with an asshole media student happen. Based on the FIRST KISS YouTube video that gave the internet an entire meltdown. 
when your heart is bleeding, i'm coming to get you by orphan_account (13.5k words) - Isak doesn't exactly expect his hookup from last week to be the love advice columnist at the school newspaper he's working at. He also doesn't expect to fall even harder for him than he already has, which is a shame, really, since Even's crushing on someone else. 
Heal My Heart for Christmas by iwritetropesnottragedies (recklesslee) (13.5k words) - It’s been ten years since Isak left his small town for the big city of Oslo with his father. He hardly even thought of his time there anymore. Until he received a letter from his mother asking him to come home for Christmas for the first time since he had left. 
Love in the Time of COVID: Battlestar Edition by sweetasmaple (14k words) - Isak and Even find each other again during the COVID-19 lockdown, one Battlestar Galactica episode at a time. 
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******* Pining *******
never seemed so alive by retts (1k words) - Nothing special, just four letters strung together to spell out E V E N but they made Isak's heart race and his face blush and his hands tremble.
Hopeless by waitineedaname (1k words) - Light pining. There was no way in hell Isak would be able to talk to Even. He was tall and cool and handsome, and Isak was pretty sure talking to him would make him spontaneously combust.
i could probably just curl up in you. by milominderbinder (1.3k words) - Isak is away at a cabin with the guys when he gets a text from Even. 'hey, babe, did you take my favourite hoodie?' He is, of course, outraged that Even would accuse him of such treachery. The fact that Isak is wearing the hoodie at that very moment has nothing to do with it.
stuck on you (what did i do?) by itjustkindahappened (1.8k words) - It’s not that Even doesn’t try to be friendly with him—Isak just makes it so hard. Whenever Even approaches, Isak either makes up a fumbling excuse to leave, or just becomes really stiff and refuses to acknowledge Even’s existence.
now and forever (i will be your man) by thekardemomme (2.2k words) -Warning for pain. 3 times isak kisses even +1
i be up in the gym just working on my fitness by orphan_account (2.3k words) - Even knows that he's quite literally going to die when he finds his crush sweating on an elliptical, reading a book with his glasses slipping down his nose.
You know where I stay by nofeartina (2.4k words) - Warning for pain. Isak is so beautiful first thing in the morning. When he still has creases in his face from the pillow, when his face is red and puffy from sleep, his hair all messed up and curly. Even prefers this Isak. This is his Isak, this is only for him.
won't you be my livewire by itjustkindahappened (3.2k words) - "i've been tryin to grab your attention in class for over half an hour by poking you and throwing things onto your desk and you're refusing to acknowledge me and gdi all i wanted to do was tell you that you look cute and now it's gone too far and i can't go back"
Cookies and Cream by GayaIsANerd (3.5k words) - Isak has a crush on the barista. He's too scared to do anything about it, but luckily there's a blizzard coming up.
i can feel the weather in my bones by EvenbechNeiheim (3.7k words) - Isak and Even are childhood friends. There’s a boyfriend sweater and Isak is just desperate to wear it.
On the silver screen by Lokkanel (4k words) - Isak was really not in the mood for this. He had a long week at work, and all he wanted was to relax with his friend, drink a few beers, maybe even smoke some weed and just chill. But no. When Jonas called him to say that he won tickets to the coolest indie film festival in Oslo, Isak knew he could forget his plans for a quiet and simple weekend.
I want to love you (in my own language) by fauu_stine (4k words) - “Okay. Maybe I’m not happy,” he admits in a resigned whisper. “Do you need a shrink discussion or a best friend discussion?” "I think- I think it’s more of a friend with benefits kind of talk."
Don't be an ass by Julieseven (4.1k words) - Even really tried to forget about him. It started out as a harmless little crush, really. He saw him at the karaoke bar SYNG one night, singing "I don't want to miss a thing" at the top of his lungs, clearly drunk out of his mind, but looking like an angel with his messy dark blond locks and crooked smile.
Little Black Book by Laika (4.3k words) - Isak Valtersen is studying his third year at the University of Oslo and having the time of his life. Enter Evy Bech Næsheim, straight out of Nissen, in his stockings, mini skirts and bubblegum scented lip gloss.
cracks in our foundation by towonderland72 (4.8k words) - “You know, like a thousand years ago, men used to wear makeup?” Even asks, as Isak gapes at himself.
Safest With You (Green Curtains) by eavk (5.3k words) - Isak keeps staying up too late studying at the library, but luckily there's an escort service that gives students a buddy to walk with to keep safe at night.
the one with the prom video by thekardemomme (5.5k words) - Even has been in love with Isak since they were younger, but he never intended for Isak to find out this way.
Senses by Lokkanel (5.5k words) - Sight, hearing, smell, touch, taste… Or Even falling in love with Isak, one sense at a time.
you're the one i wanna grey with (5.6k words) - They've only been dating a month, so Isak shouldn't be pathetic enough to miss Even this much when he's only gone for a weekend.
Orion's Nebula by thekardemomme (5.6k words) - Light pining I think. Even Bech Næsheim was enrolled in an astronomy class for one reason and one reason only: the cute ass boy he saw standing in the registration line.
with the taste of a poison paradise by chasingflower (6k words) - It’s routine by now. Isak hangs out with his friends during the day and at night he kisses the Dream-Even that lives on the other side of the door in his living room, and basks in the warm fuzzy feelings he gets as a result of the attention. Coraline Au.
How to Get Your Man - A Plan By Even Bech Naesheim by Evakkk (6.1k words) - When Magnus drops a big secret in front of Even... Even comes up with a brilliant plan to get Isak to reveal his true feelings. All it takes is one little lie, and one crazy family reunion.
To Burn With Desire by photographer_of_thoughts (6.1k words) - AU in which Isak and Even are neighbours and Isak's father has a secret job that unintentionally helps Isak realize he's in love with his best friend.
Watermelon Sugar by MermaidsandMermen (6.6k words) - A little tribute to fruit and touching. To sex, and friendships and finding what you were looking for all along. And of course inspired by Harry Styles latest video offering, just because.
The Fake Boyfriend App by Crazyheart (7.2k words) - AU where Isak is desperately pining for his flatmate Even, and downloads a fake boyfriend app to get over him. When he discovers that the Fake boyfriend is a human, and not a bot, he is sceptical.
That look you give that guy by Lokkanel (7.4k words) - Isak and Even love each other in secret. It is almost thrilling at first, but when hiding and lying to their friends begin to take a toll on Even, Isak decides to end it all. He thinks he has taken the right decision, until Even eventually moves on with someone else.
my longing drives me crazy for you (7.7k words) - Isak's mum worries, Isak makes bad life decisions and Even loves Isak. It's a fake dating au.
I'm Always Here by nofeartina (9.3k words) - “Did you know that Even is working this summer? At that pool at the Plaza?” Jonas says. Isak actually sits up in excitement at this. “Fuck yeah!” Oh, a pool. Actual water they could go swimming in and cool down. And also, Even.
a garden for your love by eggsntoast (9.3k words) - He’s learning to breathe with them, even if he ends up with a floor full of violets by the end of it all. They remind Isak of him, and that’s all that matters. That’s what makes it worse. or: a Hanahaki au ft. Isak heavily pining after Even. Lots of angst.
I wrote an angry letter to the void, and the void responded (9.5k words) - Monday comes, and the book is still there. Isak looks around, content to find the floor practically empty, before giving the book the finger. Fuck that book. - a book finds it's way to Isak's sacred study spot. this proves to be a major distraction.
a constant state of closeness by chevythunder (9.7k words) - “What is it about this dude, anyway?” Elias asks. “You’ve barely even talked to him, right?” “I don’t know,” Even says. “I just got this feeling, you know? Just- I want to make sure he’s okay and safe and… stuff.” - It starts with a hug.
Is This Our Time? by Evakkk (9.9k words) - This is a world where everyone is born with an indistinguishable soulmate mark... it only changes into something recognizable, once you have physical contact with your soulmate, and it's always something meaningful to the relationship. Both partners will bear the same mark. Isak is about to turn 18... and he's the only one in his friend group who still hasn't found their soulmate. But what happens when he goes out one night, gets drunk... and wakes up with his soulmate mark?
Is This What You Wanted? by cuteandtwisted (9.9k words) - Isak is filthy rich and Even is a hardworking male model who just got signed to his father's agency. Even gets an awful offer from Isak: one night with him in exchange for money, and begins to despise him. Little does he know that everything he thinks he knows about Isak is wrong.
Just like in the movies by Lokkanel (10.5k words) - As he began taking in his surroundings, Isak realized he was in one of those small theaters that programmed independent and artsy movies, even old black and white films. He was ready to turn around and walk away when he heard a deep voice say, “Halla.”
my tiny heartbeat in his ear by riyku (11k words) - Now, about a week after the longest day of the year, the empty house across the street has stopped being empty. most beautiful things by scarletbluebird (12.7k words) - This fic is a whole ass journey. Warning for pain. This isn’t a fairytale, Isak tells himself. Even is standing at the bend in the road. He looks like a metaphor for immortal life: the youth a god would kill for. Ambrosia eyes, the universe trapped in the curve of his mouth. He looks like every warning from his mother about strangers you run into after dark. 
One week by Lokkanel (12.8k words) - This thing going on between Isak and Even, whatever they called it - fuckbuddies, friends with benefits - was simple, fun, nothing more. They were friends, they were both free to do whatever they wanted with other people. They’d just meet and have sex whenever they felt like it. Simple. Until what was bound to happen eventually did and Even fell for Isak. 
Plum by Jamz24 (13.2k words) - Femme!teacher!Even asks masculine! plumber!Isak to fix a broken shower on a scorching hot summer day...And if you think it sounds like the start of a porn film you're absolutely right! There's LOADS of smut but ... with LOTS of feelings 
Never be the same by nofeartina (14.2k words) - It starts with a bet - one of those really stupid ones: can they last an entire month without any kind of sex?It’s been 22 days – and Even is dying. 
Somewhere I’ve never been by MinilocIsland (14.6k words) - The first time Even meets Jonas' best friend, nothing goes according to plan. 
If I Should Fall Behind by MinilocIsland (14.7k words) - The plan for tonight had been crystal clear. Stay close to his best friend, and steal her away if needed. Hold her hand through the ordeal of meeting Noora again for the first time in years. Then Even shows up – and suddenly, nothing goes the way it was supposed to. 
All I Ever Wanted by MinilocIsland (14.8k words) - Isak is such a good friend. Probably the best there is. How else could he explain that he's agreed to join Magnus to this place deep in the woods for six full days of silence, meditation, and utter boredom? One thing, he knows. There's nothing exciting for him there. Right? Or: the silent retreat AU. 
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******* Bonus *******
Season 3: Jonas by Laika_the_husband (WIP, SBB 2021 fic) - There is a scene in the end of the script for season 1, where Jonas and Isak kiss each other on a dare. This story is a retelling of season 3 in a universe, where that kiss happened and completely changed the way Jonas sees Isak. Written in Jonas' POV, the story examines sexuality, love, friendship and coming to terms with never getting the boy you shouldn't have fallen for in the first place.
What the fuck is wrong with me? by notanugget (11.6k words) - The five times isak felt guilty for being in love and the one time he didn’t 
thanks for the weed, thanks for everything by evak1isak (13.1k words) - Jokael. Jonas' dealer has moved to Denmark, and Even recommends his friend's weed. What Jonas didn't expect, though, was to develop a crush on a boy, on Mikael. 
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******* WIP *******
Baby, why do you have to shine so bright? by Lilacpotter - Even knew he was radiant, and he was used to people always wanting to be around him, enchanted by his captivating words and glowing smiles, as if he was the tantalising sun. But then one day, he comes across someone who shines much brighter than the sun itself in Even’s eyes.
Lonely Hearts Club by EndingsNotTheStory - The Hearts Club. A show run by Isak and his 3 friends. He's kind of had enough with hearing about people's relationship issues and giving advice. Until the guy from his theatre class and Isak's totally not crush Even calls, dealing with relationship issues. pining
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Revelations: Final Part
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~2.1k
Warnings: heavy angst, spencer reid being drugged and tortured, canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill
Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there is any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated
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With another sigh, you walk into the main room where Hotch and Gideon are. The rest are with Penelope.
"We're not getting any closer," Hotch sighs.
"Reid's brilliant. He'll figure out how to survive."
"You know, I always take advantage of Reid for his brain, but I never actually teach him how to deal with things emotionally."
"Lead by example."
"What kind of example is that?"
"He'll make it." Gideon looks past Hotch to see you crying in the corner of the room. They break it off and Hotch goes back into the computer room while Gideon walks over to you. "He's going to make it."
"He's hurting, Gideon. I feel dizzy and my arm hurts like pins and needles. Something is happening to him, and it's all my fault," you sob.
"He. Will. Survive. This is not your fault. You couldn't have known this was going to happen."
"I love him," you say the three words you've been wanting to say to Spencer for the past couple of months, but never had the courage to.
"He is going to get through this."
You have no choice but to accept what he's saying because if you even think about the possibility of losing him, you're not going to survive this. You break off from Gideon and head to Penelope. No one else is in the room, and you're kind of glad for that.
"Any more signs of Spencer?" you clear your throat.
"No, but Tobias just posted the last murder online. It had over seventeen thousand hits in the first twenty minutes."
"Am I a bad person?"
"No, of course not."
"Am I a bad agent for leaving Spencer alone?"
"You did what you thought was right."
"What I thought was right was to follow him, but I didn't. Instead, I went into the fucking barn."
Penelope can see how much guilt you're carrying about all of this, and she sighs and gives in.
"I think you think you knew better, but you couldn't have known this was going to happen. It won't do you any good to feel this way. Let's just focus on getting Spencer back, and then we can see how you feel afterward. I don't think he'll blame you."
"Thanks, Pen."
You head back to the main room where the rest of the team is, and hang off to the side in thought.
"We can trace their whole family history. Here we got happy, smiling pictures of Tobias. Report cards all A's and B's, but at eight years old, we got nothing," Derek says, looking through the files Penelope managed to gather.
On the wall are pictures of Tobias and his family like a diagram or a family tree they can refer to when they talk about him.
"That's his mother leaving," Emily points out another picture. "Six months later, on the other side of the board, we have a form from child services saying they paid a visit. Then, Charles starts keeping journals about punishing sinners and needing to remove the devil from his son which corresponds to Tobias' drug use. He's trying to escape."
"So, wherever Reid is, it was Tobias' choice, not his father's."
"How do you figure?" you ask.
"Look at these two lives. They're like inverse graphs. One's getting weaker while the other one's getting angrier. Tobias would run away. His father would have stood and fought."
"Okay, so Tobias uses drugs as an escape. I'll go back through the journals and see if I can find anything connecting his drug use to a hiding place," Emily says.
"Where's Gideon?" JJ interrupts the conversation.
"He's upstairs. Why? What's going on?" you ask.
"Hankel just posed the latest murder."
Gideon is brought downstairs immediately, and you all huddle around Penelope as the video plays over and over of the murder that just took place. Apparently, Penelope can't remove the video from anywhere."
"I don't understand. Why can't we shut it down?" Gideon wonders.
"Because I can't pinpoint his IPF."
"Just remove it once he sends it."
"It's the internet, sir. Once something's out there, you can never take it back," Penelope sighs.
"History made. You can't undo anything. Can you please do something, anything? I do not want him thinking he has a pulpit," Gideon sighs in frustration.
"I have a list of everyone from the file-sharing chain. I could send out a mass warning that the video is actually a virus. I'm gonna do that. Okay."
Penelope works quickly to get that done, and as soon as she hits send, the video feed of Spencer comes back. More tears build up and fall, but you keep your sobs quieter than last time.
"This ends now. Confess your sins!" When Spencer doesn't, Tobias actually smacks Spencer so hard, you feel the pain in your cheek. This time, you actually collapse onto the floor from heartbreak. "Confess!"
"I haven't done anything!" Spencer squeaks.
Tobias just starts beating him with his hands, and you squeeze your eyes tightly to prevent you from seeing this. Hearing him cry out for help and pleading Tobias to stop is enough for your heart to bleed.
"Please make it stop," you say to yourself. "Please, someone help him."
"Tobias, help me," Spencer whimpers.
"He can't help you. He's weak," Tobias says as his father. "Confess your sins."
Tobias grabs Spencer and throws him to the ground and this time, Spencer starts to seize. Your head snaps up when you hear him gasp for breath. There is white stuff coming out of his mouth as he seizes, and you cry out for Spencer in pain. Your chest hurts, your heart hurts, and you don't think this could get any worse.
"Please, someone do something!" you actually say, knowing they can't do anything about it. "I can't lose him."
Gideon has to step away from the room to gather himself, but the rest stays. When you think your worst nightmare is coming true, Tobias comes back into the frame and begins CPR on Spencer. You watch with your breath held as he brings him back to life.
"Wait a second. When was the video of the last murder posted?" Emily asks.
"9:23," Penelope answers.
"And what was the time of death?"
"The 911 call came in at 9:04, so the murder must have been moments later," Hotch replies.
"That's only a nineteen-minute difference," JJ says.
"How long would it take to post the mpeg?"
"Two or three minutes."
"Let's call it two. You figure a maximum of sixty miles an hour in a residential area. That means Hankel has to be within a seventeen-mile radius of the crime scene," Derek.
You stand up in excitement because you might actually know where this bastard is.
"Garcia, can we see it on a map?" Hotch asks, and Penelope works on getting it on the monitor.
"Call Faraday. I want that area locked down like it's martial law," Gideon orders.
"Guys."
You snap your head to the screen where Spencer is, and you breathe out a sigh of relief when you see he is alright and alive. You have to get to him so you can beat Tobias to the ground for what he did.
"You came back to life," Tobias says in the voice of Raphael.
"Raphael."
"There can be only one of two reasons."
"I was given CPR."
"There are no accidents. How many members are on your team?"
"Seven," Spencer says, not including himself.
"The seven angels who had the seven trumpets prepared themselves to sound. The first sounding followed hail and they were thrown to earth."
"He thinks it's Revelations--the seven archangels versus the seven angels of death," Hotch states.
"Tell me who you serve."
"I serve you."
"Then choose one to die."
"What?"
"Your team members--choose one to die."
"Kill me."
"No!" you exclaim emotionally, covering your mouth with your hands.
"You said you weren't one of them."
"I lied."
"Your team has seven other members. Tell me who dies."
"No."
Tobias takes out a revolver that has six available rounds. He takes out one bullet and places it into one of the cartridges, spinning it until he clicks the barrel back into place. You don't know which round has the bullet, and you don't think Spencer does either. Tobias points the gun at Spencer when he's ready.
"Choose, and prove you'll do God's will."
"No."
Tobias presses the trigger, but that is an empty round.
"No, please don't do this," you cry.
"Choose."
"I won't do it."
Another empty shot.
"Life is a choice."
"No."
He fires a third empty shot, and your heart races against your ribcage. There are only three left, and he's running out of changes. You don't know what you'll do if you witness Spencer's murder on tape.
"Choose."
"I... I choose... Aaron Hotchner." Everyone is dead silent, and you look over at him to see his hard expression hasn't changed. "He's a classic narcissist. He thinks he's better than everyone else on the team. Genesis 23:4: Let him not deceive himself and trust in emptiness, vanity, falseness, and futility, for these shall be his recompense."
Wait, that isn't the right verse. Is he purposely quoting the bible wrong? Satisfied, Tobias shoots the wall behind Spencer, proving that it was the one that had the bullet. Hotch leaves the room, and everyone follows him carefully.
"I'm not a narcissist."
"You can't think anything from that. He's not in his right mind, Hotch," Gideon says.
"No. Stop. Stop. Alright, everybody right now--what's my worst quality?" No one wants to answer this, so he begins. "Okay, I'll start. I have no sense of humor."
"You're a bully," JJ blurts.
"I'm a bully," he nods.
"You can be a drill sergeant sometimes," Derek says.
"You don't trust women as much as men," Emily adds.
"You say you trust me, but you don't really believe in what I can do and sometimes undermines my value," you state.
"Okay, good. I'm all those things, but none of you said that I ever put myself above the team, because I don't, ever. Reid and I argued about the definition of classic narcissism, and he knew that I would remember that, and he also quoted Genesis, chapter 23, verse 4. Read it."
Hotch finds a bible on the table and flips to the page, passing it to JJ who reads it.
"I am a foreigner and stranger among you. Sell me some property for a burial site here so I can bury my dead."
"He wouldn't get it wrong unless it was on purpose."
"He's in a cemetery," you gasp. You rush over to Penelope who already has the place up on Maps. "Wait, I don't see a cemetery."
"Call up the first time we saw Reid," Gideon states.
Penelope brings up the video of the first time Spencer came on screen.
"I won't choose who gets slaughtered and have you leave their remains behind like a poacher," he says over the video.
"Check to see if there are any reports of poaching in the last couple of days."
"Okay, a farmer reported two sheep being slaughtered on his property," Penelope says after researching.
"Where are we talking?"
Penelope brings up the map, and you frown when you see a patch of green in the middle of nowhere.
"What's that patch of green there?" you ask and point to it.
"Marshall Parish. I think it's an old plantation."
"Wait, Tobias wrote in his journals about staying clean and keeping away from marshall."
"Guys, there's a cemetery on the grounds," Penelope states.
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You don't even have to go through the house as soon as you reach the plantation. You know exactly where Spencer is because you can feel where he is.
"I know where he is! Follow me!" you exclaim.
You run away from the car up the hill towards the makeshift cemetery. Everyone except Derek, Hotch, and Gideon follow you. The rest stays inside the house in case Tobias comes back there.
"Spencer!" you yell for him, shining your flashlight in the darkness. After three more steps, you hear a gunshot go off around the hill. You take off running towards the sound, seeing Spencer standing with a gun in his hands, and Tobias on the ground. "Spencer!!"
"We found him!" Hotch yells to the rest of the group who comes straight over.
"You alright?" Hotch asks Spencer who is beaten up but alive.
"I knew you'd understand," he whimpers, hugging Hotch tightly.
People rush past you to hug Spencer, glad that he's okay, but you can't seem to move from your spot. Tears are leaking down your face, but you're scared he is going to be mad at you for leaving him all alone. Scared that he'll hate you when you're madly in love with him.
When Spencer hugs the last person, he looks over at you with sympathy. Everyone moves out of the way to let you near him, and you find yourself slowly walking toward him.
"I'm so sorry," you break down crying as he brings you into his arms. "I'm sorry for leaving you alone."
"It's okay. It wasn't your fault."
"I love you so much. I'm so sorry," you sob.
"It wasn't your fault," he says instead of saying those three little words back to you.
You feel something round and sharp in his pocket, but in your state of mind, you don't pay any attention to it. You're only caught up in the feeling of his arms wrapped around you, and how you're never going to let him go again.
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chokemeanakin · 4 years
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Hi my name’s Maeve! 😇 I write for Anakin and a tiny bit of Obi. 
My inbox is closed! 
Feel free to send me any thoughts you have, but if you send a fic request I can’t promise that I’ll get to it anytime soon. I still love to see your ideas though! 
(ps check out my ongoing fic Give Me Love) 
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First Kiss - Anakin treats reader to their first kiss
Drunk - Reader comes home from a party wasted, and Anakin is there to witness it… and maybe make out with…
Anakin Cuddling Hc’s - What it’s like to cuddle with the Best Boy
Anakin with giggly reader Hc’s and Anakin x Jealous/Insecure reader - first half is hc for a giggly reader and second half is a fic where reader gets jealous and insecure and Anakin comforts them
Anakin x Short/Shy/Insecure Reader Hc’s - Just some headcanons of a soft boy
Loving On You - Slight Anakin angst, basically you hold him after a crappy mission
Be My Forever - Anakin proposes with as little words as possible
Anakin Teaches You How To Drive Hc’s- nice car go zoom 🚗💨
Anakin With a Pregnant Reader Hc’s- use protection kids
Anakin x Touch Starved Reader Hc’s - definitely not self indulgent
Touch Starved Anakin x Reader Hc’s - this was actually rlly cute
Playing with his hair imagine - i know i write about this a lot but cmon
Anakin Comforting Reader Hc’s - cue the uwu’s
Distraction - Anakin distracts reader as they study
Walking with Anakin as he does General stuff- small blurb
Domestic Anakin Hc’s - random thoughts I had of him
Giving Anakin a massage - w a tiny hint of smut
Complimenting Anakin - is never talked about enough
Anakin x curvy Reader Hc’s
Anakin x skinny Reader Hc’s
Fluff blurbs! - one, two
Stargazing with Anakin
Wearing Anakin’s Jedi Robes Hc’s
Sleepy moments with Ani Hc’s
Jealous Anakin x Reader Hc’s - mentions of smut
Anakin x Jealous Reader Hc’s - mentions of smut
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Patched Up - Reader comes back from a mission all cut up, Anakin helps patch her up
Sick People Should Stay Away from Balconies - Reader is sick and asking for trouble, Anakin deals with her shit
Jelly toast - a request for a reader coming back from a mission all bruised and cut up, Anakin takes care of her
Anakin x Asthmatic Reader Hc’s - how he would act to you having asthma
Bad Dream- Reader has a nightmare during a thunderstorm and goes to Anakin for help
He Kicks Your Ass And Then Lets You Braid His Hair - see title
A Helping Hand (part 1) - Reader hurts her arm during a mission, and Anakin comes to help her (in more ways than one). Whump is in part 1, smut is in part 2 listed under Smut.
Anakin x Reader on her Period heacanons - shark week oofs
Anakin x Sick reader headcanons
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Don’t Forget About Me - Reader begs Anakin not to go break up the fight between Mace Windu and Palpatine
I Gave You All - Our war-torn baby just needs a hug
Anakin x Reader w/ Mommy Issues - bro i just 
Night Bus - The Council forces you to leave Anakin
A Reason to Stay - read this at your own risk, deals with severe mental health issues. basically Anakin helps reader through a dark time.
Misunderstandings - angst ending in fluff, Anakin and reader go on a bodyguard mission together and both get jealous.
Anakin crying blurb - give sad boy a hug damnit
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Anakin and Reader Take a Shower -basically what the title says. The shower gets heated in more ways than one.
What That Mouth Do Though 👄💦- he eats you out like a champ 💪🏻
Needy Anakin - (you give him a blowie)
Say My Name- jealous Anakin, choking, fucking, you know 🤷🏼‍♀️
First time - Readers first time HAVING SEX with Anakin 🥰
His First Time - The first time Anakin HAS SEX, & it’s with you :)
Welcome Home - Anakin comes home from war and reader welcomes him back with open arms... and open legs 
Save a Spaceship, Ride a Starpilot- Anakin has reader sit on his face and then she fucks him slowly ;)
Giving him a lapdance short - just a lil imagine
Jealousy (part 1) - classic under-the-table action at a high end event
Jealousy (part 2) - he gets his revenge
Master Kink Hc’s - exactly what it sounds like
A Helping Hand (part 2) - Anakin helps Reader out bc she has a broken arm :) very sweet and soft and fluffy to mend y’alls broken hearts. (part 1 is under Whump)
This is what he sounds like when he cums - grab ur headphones
This is what he sounds like in bed - grab ur headphones again lol
Anakin Eating Pussy Hc’s (part 1) - from the top make it drop thats a wap
Anakin Eating Pussy Hc’s (part 2) -  wap wap wap
General Kink blurb - credit goes to @kenobikittens​
Cruel Intentions - holiday smut, this hurt ppl’s feelings for some reason woops. anakin is mad and he’s got a dirty mouth, and also it’s Life Day.
Anakin x fem reader Pregnancy Sex Hc’s - i hate kids but this was cute
NSFW blurbs! - one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty
Sub Anakin Hc’s - good boy ;)
Deepthroating Anakin Hc’s 
Dry Humping Hc’s
A Dream Come True - Anakin helps reader masturbate and cum for the first time
Anakin & size kink hc’s
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Anakin is smart - just a post talking about how intelligent our favorite Jedi is
More proof that he’s smart
Anidala Fluff - A request where Anakin and Padme do it in the fields of Naboo for the first time (no smut it’s romantic get ur head out of the gutter John B)
Love at First Sight - Anakin falls in love with you as soon as he sees you
All These Little Things - Padme x Reader / Anakin x Reader Hc’s where reader is romantically interested in Padme until she notices all of Anakin’s little things
Anakin’s hands appreciation post
Anakin’s Cheekbones Appreciation Post - he’s just got em okay
Anakin’s arms appreciation post
Aggressive Negotiations (part one) - Anakin and Reader go to a ball and it doesn’t turn out the way they expect
Aggressive Negotiations (part two) - combines the ‘he sees her dressed up for the first time’, ‘handcuffed together’, and ‘stuck in a closet’ tropes all in one mission gone wrong ;)
When he does the hand-on-cheek thing - *cries*
For people who have freckles
For people who have freckles p2 - not my work but thanks to @haydens-moles​ you guys have to suffer through this post with me
Anakin can sing
Anakin + drinking - some musings about the jedi and booze
Anakin loves rain
Anakin’s Eyelashes Appreciation Post
Random facts about his childhood
Sad Anakin fact
Anakin Reaction Pics
Random Anakin Thoughts - im so disorganized my b
What does his dick look like?
Is he brunette or blonde discourse - spoil alert: it’s neither. see next link
What color is his hair really?
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It’s you- Obi Wan x Reader fic where he comes back from a mission planning to break it off with you, but then realizes he can’t let you go
You Can Rest Now - Obiwan x Reader where you take care of him after a mission that’s left him tired and sick
Obi-Wan Hc’s - random thoughts I had about him being in a relationship
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What I Imagine The Star Wars Boys Wear For Underwear
What I Imagine The Star War’s Boys Dicks Are Like
Rating the Star Wars Boys Cum Faces on a Scale from 1-10
Kinky R2
The fanart that ended thousands of careers
R2D2 x C3P0 Smut 
You get Acid in your Vagina Hc’s 
Carrot Fun w Anakin - two parter, includes videos
Yoda smut snippet
He gave you a specific order
If Anakin can pull off a butt chin then so can I
How many shots it would take for me to sleep with the stars wars men (part one) (part two)
Anakin w a weave
Which Star Wars Characters Have a Foot Fetish
1K notes · View notes
yeojaa · 4 years
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( TEASER / holidating. )
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In life, there are certain things that go together, two parts that make up a whole.  The sun in the sky, grandmothers and cheek kisses, chocolate when you’re sad—and you and Jeon Jungkook.  Best friends since childhood, there’s never been one without the other.  You’ve always existed this way, caught in each other’s orbit.  Parallel lines that run side by side. 
But what happens when those lines finally collide?
(or:  how to lose a best friend in ten days.)
pairing.   best friend!jjk x f!reader.
genre + rating.  this teaser is general but the full fic won’t be (wink wink). entirely made up of cracky, silly, and somewhat infuriating fluff.
tags / warnings.  idiot best friends being idiots and a dumb amount of cuteness.  the final will have further tags added.
wc.  0.9k for this teaser. undetermined full story.
beta reader(s).  @hobi-gif because she be my gurl.
author note.  this is part of the rockin’ around the christmas tropes collab with the most wonderful group of women @underthejoon @ladyartemesia @ppersonna​ @untaemedqueen​ @xjoonchildx​ and @snackhobi​.  i am so excited for you guys to read the amazing works that are going to be coming out.  please support these lovelies!  ✨💗
— coming 23/12/20 !
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Jeon Jungkook is four bites into his steak when he almost chokes, the half-chewed slice getting caught somewhere in the back of his throat, threatening to send him to a far too early grave.  He’s three delirious gulps of water deep when he asks you to repeat what you’ve just said, staring at you with the biggest roundest eyes anyone’s ever seen, shining like a beacon in the night, a solar flare that eclipses everything else around it.  He’s silent for a total of five seconds - or so he thinks - before he’s laughing, scoffing so loudly it disrupts Eevee, your lazy Maine Coon, and sends her bolting from her spot by his feet.  
“You’re kidding me.”  Because he can’t even begin to fathom what you’ve said, make sense of the ludicrous suggestion you’ve made.  
This, coming from the guy who has been your best friend for the last seventeen years.  Who has known you for almost two decades and who, by sheer idiot osmosis, has been privy to every harebrained scheme you’ve even come up.  Who has, often against his will, suffered through all your crazy 4 a.m. suggestions, nodded along half-asleep as you’d prattled on and on about things that hardly made sense in the light of day but fared even worse beneath a blanket of sleep.
(And you’d had a lot of bad ideas.  From your absurd fried chicken restaurant - where you’d use vacuum tubes to send food to people’s tables - to your non-whiteboard whiteboard desk - made for the everyday office person - he’d seen it all.  Talked you off ledges and rebuked your half-hearted request for him to be your angel investor.
“Isn’t this what friends do?”  You’d said, implored, just two weeks ago over another dinner, with that same absurd stare of yours, the one that Jungkook’s known for most of his life, that makes everything just a little harder to say no to.
“Invest in shitty ideas?”  So maybe some of your ideas aren’t that bad.  Maybe, just maybe, they’re actually sort of inventive.  Out there, certainly, but innovative, plucked from the mind of you and only you.  
Still, he likes giving you a hard time.  It’s sort of his thing.
“Definitely not.”
You’d kicked him under the table, pouted at him and then continued your rambling, completely unfazed by the fact that he was not, in fact, going to shell out a part of his trust fund to bring your whacky idea to life.)
Because you know him so well - could read him like a book, recognise his voice in a crowd of thousands, find his smile like a star in the night sky - you take his disbelief in stride.  Treat it like it’s nothing you’re not used to which, well, you aren’t.  Continue to stack French fries onto the tines of your fork, twirling the utensil before depositing the too-big bite into your mouth.
“What’s to kid about?  It’s a good idea.”
Whether it is or isn’t is up for Jungkook to decide.  He can’t entertain it at all, just the mere thought of it existing too far out of the realm of possibility.  “We’re not— What’d you call it?”
“Holidating,”  you state, so matter of fact he wants to roll his eyes.  Actually does when you set your fork down, lay it neatly beside your plate and level him with that stare.  The one that reads like a big red warning sign, that might as well have neon lighting it up by how he shrinks away.  He knows that look.  He knows you’re not backing down, somehow fired up and ready to go in the minute that’s passed.
Still, he’ll try.  Play off your suggestion and scoff just that much harder.  “We’re not holidating, ____.”  
“Why not?”  You’re exasperated, two hands landing on the countertop with gusto.  It’s as endearing as it is childish, making him laugh again, roll his eyes until the sclera is all you can see.  (You’d told him once that his eyes would get stuck like that if he did it too much. Cue the prank when he’d worn white contacts and nearly given you a heart attack at the tender age of thirteen.)
“Because I don’t have time for dating, let alone—”  Jungkook feels idiotic when he says the words, wrapping them in airquotes that have you glowering.  “‘Holidating’ or whatever.”
“That’s the point!”  You’re waving those same two hands - you’ve always talked with them, emotive and dramatic like in a soap opera star - as if that might lend some validity to your statement.  “You don’t have time to date.  I just got out of a relationship.”  Sure, they’re facts but they mean nothing to him as you continue to ramble on.  “Neither of us can or even want to put in the effort for a relationship but like, who wants to spend the holidays alone?”
(You have a point.  There’s nothing quite like attending his extended family’s annual Christmas dinner by himself.  It garners too many of the same questions, offered by distant relatives that mean well but otherwise drive him insane.)
(He’s not about to tell you that, though.  Hard time, and all that.)
“It’s not that bad,”  he says, lying through those slightly too-big, slightly buck-toothed teeth of his.  Why he bothers, he isn’t sure.  You catch him immediately, a loud a-ha! snapping past your lips when he glances to the side, completely unconsciously.
(You’ve known his tell since he was in high school.  Since that first time you’d caught on when he’d borrowed - and subsequently broken - your camera, you’ve known.  You call him out on it too.  Every. single. time.)
“You’re telling me you want to have your grandma ask you when you’re going to give her grandkids for the umpteenth time?  Seriously?”  
“It’s not that bad,”  he repeats, a broken record that can’t be fixed, whose cat-scratched eeeeeee gives him away.
He’s bluffing.  He knows it.  You know it.
Looks like you’re holidating. 
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tag list.  @neverthefirstchoice @youwannabelostandnotbefound @codeinebelle @jeonmisha 
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soyunaagente · 4 years
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Dating Miguel Ángel Felix Gallardo would include
Well, you have defeated me in the end 😂 Here it is. This is my first attempt at writing anything like this so hopefully it isn’t too bad lol. 
Obviously I’m not trying to glorify these people or anything they stand for! This is solely based on Narcos Mexico :) This is only for entertainment purposes. 
My DM’s and ask box are always open! 
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Miguel would need someone to be his rock- someone to ground him 
I can’t- you’re the one to bring him back down to earth after he spends the day dealing with business. Running your hands along his arms as he watches your small smile. Relieved he’s home safe. 
You know he’s had a long day when he just wordlessly wraps his hands around you, burrowing his face in your hair or shoulder. Inhaling to smell your perfume. It calms him 
Hand Holding is a thing- you can’t tell me otherwise. 
The way he gives your hand little squeezes throughout the day- whether it be just for a walk, at a dinner or a meeting. 
It reassures him when your fingers entwine with his. The warmth of your hand against his just- his rock 
When you're sitting on the couch watching a movie, just holding his hand. Every so often he’ll raise your hand and give it a kiss. 
You’re ALWAYS there to listen to him, and offer advice when needed. It was the first thing he noticed about you. A heart of pure gold. 
He melts inside when he sees the look in your eyes as he talks about his day- you care- 
The reassuring smile you give him when he talks about a problem he’s having. His heart just feels lighter. 
We know miguel is extra when it comes to special occasions. Let’s not get started on your birthday. 
From the moment you wake up the celebrations have begun. Breakfast in bed obviously. Beside the stack of pancakes is a little blue box- containing the most beautiful sapphire earrings you’ve ever seen. You begin to protest as to the cost. 
‘Pues mija, Puedes tener lo que quieras.’ 
The party he has planned- the Times Square NYE party is nothing compared to it. The poshest hotel in Mexico, the who’s who on the guest list. I’m talking Champagne Moët & Chandon is flowing. 
The classical music band plays all your favourites in a slow tempo. 
Giving Miguel an excuse to take you for a slow dance.You resting your head on his chest, his chin on the top of your head. Fingers entwined. Just keeping in time with the music.  
‘Tu eres mi mundo. Feliz cumpleanos.’ 
His heart swells with pride when he sees you doing something you love- whether it be a hobby, a job or just something that relaxes you. 
The looks of pure admiration he gives you. It gives him a break from the harsh realities of his life, just absentmindedly looking at whatever passion project you’re dreaming up. 
I get such a vibe that Miguel lovES Christmas. It’s a secret you’re sworn not to tell anyone but his favourite activity is decorating the tree. Just him sanding back proudly looking at the perfectly placed decorations. 
He’s so one for putting up the tree in the second week in November. 
You didn’t hear this from me but he also makes the best gingerbread cookies. You yell at him for all the extra sugar you’re eating. 
But he just laughs and tells you that it’s not actually possible to make you any sweeter but he won’t give up trying. 
He’s not one for PDA- especially when he’s doing anything for business. But he’ll never protest to your reassuring touch on  the small of his back- or his inner thigh when he’s sitting down. 
The ‘ten cuidado’ you say before he walks out the front door. 
He just looks back, heart melting. ‘Siempre mi amor’. 
We all know the gifts he gives you are extra as HeLl. Nevermind the above earrings. 
He has a thing for giving you jewelry. Like necklaces, rings, nothing compares to the engagement ring. Kim Kardashian’s looks like a fake compared to this rock. It honestly takes you hours to stop looking at it after he proposes. 
For every event you have precious stones to match your dress. Miguel’s face shows nothing but pride everytime he sees you wearing the stones he bought you. 
It’s not only jewelry. He has a memory better than an elephants’. You said one day you mention your favourite shoe designer in passing. Well expect a pair of shoes in your favourite colour from that designer soon after. 
He forgets NOTHING. Even the little things, they always stay with him. 
Your safety is priority number one. When he’s not there you’re surrounded only by the people he trusts. 
And has threatened seventeen thousand times. 
He literally has two people there whose only job it is to get you what you want. Ice-Cream? They’re gone to the shop and back in minutes, Swim? They have your costume in your hands before you can even stand. 
Speaking of Miguel remembering things- your dates always mean something to him. 
Seems as he isn’t always around he likes to make the time you do spend together all that more special. The restaurant where he first took you, the place you met. You’re favourite café. All places he takes you any chance he gets. 
Don’t get me started on the walks. I just know Miguel loves a long walk to clear his head. You and him, holding hands. Just a comfortable silence and the reassuring squeeze you give him. 
He’s always one for taking you out to dinner. His favourite place is a French style restaurant in the inner city. (Was there one in Mexico back then? There is now) 
Wine, food and just a flute of champers to top it off. His ideal night with you, away from reality. 
Miguel also loves hearing your voice. Another way you bring him back down to earth. 
He could just listen to you talk all day. It just gives him a break from the bullshit he deals with all day everyday. Listening to you ramble about, well, just about anything really. 
He always, always, wears the chain you gave him. He never leaves the house without it, 
‘Me matiene a salvo’ he tells literally anyone that looks at it. 
When you’re not with him, he runs his fingers along the cool metal anytime he needs reassurance. Just thinking of you. 
The one thing Miguelito can never fathom is why you have stuck by him. Through it all, his late nights, the business trips you don’t go on. How he relies on you. 
You try to remind him every day when he comes back. He can only chuckle and wonder if he was a saint in a past life. It’s the only explanation for how he landed someone like you. 
Listen just- you being the thing that keeps him, well, him. You’re just his rock. 
Overall its a relationship filled with love, respect and admiration Just a couple filled with class. 
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