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#Good thing they've got such a good gift to make up for it
sunnywalnut · 3 days
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One thing I really hate about the "autism is my super power" archetype is that it REALLY makes me feel inadequate when people compare me to these guys.
Like Sheldon Cooper or the guy from The Good Doctor. They're all successful, cishet white men. They've been through college at a young age, and sure. I was gifted in certain classes. But in others? I couldn't concentrate. It was too loud. Or too many people. Or too bright. Or too whatever.
My "superpower" wasn't math or history. It was memorizing dog breeds and calling them out on the street. Or finishing two novels in one day.
But it wasn't recognized as a superpower.
It was "recognized" as me correcting people on the average lifespan of whatever dog I had at the time. Or the things that the breed usually liked versus what somebody else thought they did. Or me sneaking glimpses of my book during class, and reading underneath my desk. It was me ignoring my elementary teacher when she called us for rug time because I was finishing the chapter of my story and couldn't put it down as easily.
And sure. They encouraged my reading. And I've gotten into a couple advanced classes that I otherwise wouldn't have been in.
But in the others I was still struggling.
I had one thing going for me and that one thing wasn't enough to propel me five grades ahead like it "should have."
I was the smart kid. Because I could memorize formulas and definitions in science and math class. Everyone was in awe of my low A's and high B's. But I wasn't a prodigy.
Just because I could memorize things didn't mean it was easy to learn.
Learning was the hard part.
And that's what nobody got.
How could I be struggling, if all this time I was getting near perfect scores?
Even after my diagnosis. I never was allowed out of class to take tests. Even when allergy season hit and I bombed a test because the boy behind me was sniffling up a ruckus. I was told I could retake it. To study next time and do better.
I never really learned how to study.
Studying was overwhelming. So I didn't do it. Nobody cared.
After all. I was getting near perfect scores.
Homework took hours. Four of them, to be exact. I never knew why. It was always so much easier in class.
But now I know it was because I have ADHD. And I was burnt out.
So I barely had free time after school.
Except for art.
Art was always there for me. I could always take the time to do something. And it was easier to put down, even if it was incomplete. Because I knew I could go back to it. I didn't have to pull out and reconstruct everything again, like a puzzle. I could go right back to where I started. And that was wonderful.
So I became good at it.
I became great.
Everyone loved it. The praise, the encouragement, the delight was almost too much to bear. I learned to crave it.
And yet.
Everyone was still surprised.
When I told them I wanted to be an artist.
Because apparently.
Your "superpower" is only good if it makes you money.
And who would invest in art?
Instead of being a doctor?
The answer is me.
It's always me.
I'm the mediocre autistic person with a difficult niche.
I don't have a superpower. Or a college degree. Or baby pictures of me playing the violin.
But I'm autistic.
Isn't that enough?
Where are the people like me in the media?
I can go outside and find at least three different Neurodiverse people like me in my town. But nearly NONE in the media.
Why is that?
Do we not exist to you?
Or are we only tolerable when we've done something "productive"?
I don't have a superpower.
But that shouldn't make me less than.
I don't know why it does.
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sentientcave · 15 days
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Retirement Party
Price has retired from Military life, and he's not handling the change well. But on the one year anniversary of him hanging it up, his boys bring him something special to help keep him busy. You.
Chapter One - The Perfect Gift
Contains: No Y/N, Kidnapping, Stalking, Drugging, Forcible relocation, Generally creepy behaviour, Threats (open-ended), I guess this might count as human trafficking?, Dubcon everything because Reader is terrified (non-sexual), plus-sized reader, fem/afab reader, There is something fucking wrong with these guys for real.
~3.2k - MDNI - Dark fic! Please mind the content warning above
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"I told ye, she's perfect," Soap said, eyes on the window across the street. They could see you puttering around your living room, wearing a pretty flower print dress as you tidied up. "Good with bairns too, met her when I was pickin' up the niece and nephew from school. She was workin' for some rich family, an' they let her go because the wife found a pair of her knickers in her husband's briefcase." He snickered. He'd been the one to put them there, although, in his opinion, he’d been pushing the bounds for a long while anyway. Sure he’d essentially cast you adrift, jobless and with no one looking out for you, but, well, they were looking after you now, weren’t they? So it wasn’t all that bad.
"Good job, pup," Ghost said fondly, ruffling Johnny's hair. "Captain's gonna love 'er."
"How do you lads want to play it?" Gaz asked. "Could go in tonight. Won’t take much to knock her out, pack up her things, take her to the cabin. Get her nice and situated for when Price gets back."
"No point in waitin', is there?" Ghost asked. "Nice she's on the ground floor. Makes takin' 'er things easier. I'll go round 'n' check the windows in a bit. Should wait till after midnight. Don't want to be spotted by the neighbours."
"No' much risk o' tha'," Soap said. "Knocked over a bunch of bins last I was here and the cunts didna even turn on a light. Just the bonnie thing worryin’ while the rest of ‘em sleep sound."
Gaz lit a cigarette, nodding thoughtfully. "Small apartment too. Is there much to move?"
Soap shook his head. "Nah, no' much. Sweet girl lives simply. I told ye, she's perfect for the captain. He'll be able to spoil the fuck out of her, once she's broken in, aye?"
"Know 'e'll like that. Man needs a wife to dote on. ‘e’s been goin’ a bit crazy, all alone. An' 'e can train'er up nice."
"Think he might share?" Gaz asked wistfully, exhaling a stream of thin smoke as he sighed. "Nice soft girl like that-- Plenty to go around."
Ghost laughed. "Thought we'd 'ave trouble gettin' Johnny to keep 'is 'ands to 'imself, and you're the one droolin'."
"Scuse me for having eyes, mate. Just think she looks sweet."
"We'll get to see first 'and soon.” Ghost clapped him on the shoulder. “Come on lads. Let's get ready."
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You wake up on the hard metal floor of a moving vehicle, your pounding head cradled in someone's hands. That's what you notice first, and the thumbs rubbing circles against your neck soothingly.
It has the opposite effect. Your eyes fly open.
“Hi, bonnie,” a somewhat familiar face grins down at you, blue eyes smiling, but too intense, glittering in the low light that filters in from the windows at the front of the truck. “How’s yer head?”
You grimace, trying to make sense of what’s going on around you. The back of the van seems to be filled with boxes. “Aren’t you Finn and Rory’s uncle?”
“Aw, ye remember me? Knew ye were a sweetheart.”
You try to sit up, but Johnny puts a strong hand on your shoulder and keeps you where you are. Your head feels too heavy to try and fight him, your muscles weak. “What’s going on?” you ask. “What— Is this a kidnapping?”
“Tha’s an ugly word, bonnie. We’re doin’ ye a favour, really. Settin’ ye up with someone respectable. Captain’ll take good care of ye.” He pats your cheek. “Whyna get back to sleep? Still a ways to go, aye?”
Maybe it’s just a bad, weird dream. You do feel foggy, like you’re not fully attached to your body, and keeping your eyes open is a struggle. You’ll wake up back in your own bed, and have a funny story to tell if you ever bump into Johnny again. He’s definitely too nice to be a kidnapper, right? Like, people don’t really do that sort of thing. It has to be a dream.
“Okay,” you mumble, letting your eyes close again.
As you suspected, you wake up again in bed. The headache’s receded some, and there’s warm sunlight streaming in through the windows. You bury your face into the pillows, and then bolt upright. The pillow smells weird, like sweet tobacco and spice, and you don’t get morning sun in your bedroom. The window faces a brick wall across a narrow alley.
The room you’re in now is not your room. It’s sparsely furnished, just a dresser under the window and the bed you’re tucked into, and two doors, one that’s clearly a closet, and one that must lead out into the rest of the… house? Judging by the sound of birdsong outside, you’re out of the city.
You pad to the window and look out. There’s a van in the driveway, and three men carrying things in. One of them looks up and spots you in the window, waving cheerfully.
Not a dream. Fear grips you, ice sliding down your spine, shards settling in your stomach, needling and uncomfortable. Your sinuses prickle like you’re about to cry, but no tears come. You’re too dehydrated to summon them. It’s hard to tell how long you’ve been out— It’s fully daylight outside, but you have no idea what time. A second look around the room finds a digital clock sitting on the nightstand, 3:05 glaring back at you in red.
There’s a knock on the door, and it pushes open. The man who walks in is handsome, smiling at you so beautifully that your automatic response is to try and smile back, although you feel that it’s flimsy, unsure. There’s no chance that this man is here to help you, but you at least hope he’s not here to hurt you either.
“How’re you feeling?” he asks. His voice is as pleasant as his face is, smooth and cheerful, although it makes you wary about him on principle. “You hungry?”
You shake your head. It’s not true, but you can’t trust that there wouldn’t be drugs in anything they give you.
“Well, come on downstairs, hm? Get some water at least. Maybe a tea?”
Your stomach churns. “I might be sick,” you manage to squeak out. He quickly ushers you out into the hall and into a bathroom. You don’t make it to the toilet, but you do manage to make it to the sink. If you had a little more fire in you, you might have tried to vomit bile onto the pretty man’s shoes, but it’s hard to shake the instinct to be good, not to make any trouble, to hope that they’ll just let you go. You’re not even sure what they want. You have no family to ransom, you don’t have any money to speak of, you’re just a fat little ex-nanny still paying off an English Literature degree from a second-rate college.
You turn on the sink to wash away the sick, and rinse your mouth out. Your hands start shaking when you realize your toothbrush is sitting in the holder next to the sink, like it belongs there. Your makeup bag is sitting on the counter too, and when you look down, you realize you’re standing on your own bathmat, taken from your home and arranged here, as if effects from your own house are supposed to make you feel comfortable. You look at your reflection in the mirror, and then at the man still standing in the doorway, his brown eyes all concern, as if he wasn’t party to a fucking nightmare.
You straighten up, gripping the counter to steady yourself. “What the hell is this?” you ask, trying to inject some authority into your quaking voice. “Who are you? What do you want from me?”
“I’m Gaz. Nice to meet you. Johnny had lots of nice things to say about you.”
So that hadn’t been a dream either. You look around the room desperately, looking for anything that could possibly be used as a weapon, but Gaz seems to know exactly what you’re doing, and he steps into your space quickly to grab your hands.
“None of that. Come on. You’ll feel better after a tea, yeah? Then you can get ready to meet the captain.”
He leads you downstairs. Questions spin around your head, but you’re not sure if it’s worth asking. Gaz only bothered to respond to one of the three you’ve asked so far, and it wasn’t the one that you were most interested in an answer to. So you stay quiet instead, taking in the layout of the big room. A front door and a back door, and windows that look out onto a forest on one side of the property, and more forest on the other side, beyond a large cleared space with a neat garden and a few fruit trees. There’s a second building that you can just see the corner of from the kitchen window, more likely a garage than a neighbour.
Gaz backs you up against the counter and leans down slightly, his hands gripping your thighs. You panic, the touch surprising you, and slap him across the face. The sharp sound makes you freeze, like it wasn’t you that had done it. He takes advantage of your surprise to shove you up onto the counter and grab both your hands with one of his, all the friendliness draining our of his eyes in an instant as he points a scolding finger at you. You feel like you’ve done something naughty that you’re not fully aware of the implications of yet, a badly trained dog or a child. “I’m going to let that one slide, because I understand that this is a big change for you. But you’re not going to like what happens if you try that again, understood?”
You nod quickly, your own eyes wide. “I-I’m sorry,” you say, the instinct for appeasement rearing it’s skittish little head.
And then the smile returns, as pretty as before, storm clouds blowing away as though they’d never been there to begin with. “It’s alright, doll. Just don’t do it again. And definitely don’t try that attitude on with the captain.” He taps the pointing finger against your nose playfully, and lets your hands drop back into your lap.
The rules seem simple enough. Be good and sweet, and get friendly faces in return, to a degree. No matter how cooperative you are, you doubt they’re going to let you go home. Fighting back means consequences, and you’re not sure how far those consequences will extend. If you’re too much trouble, it’s not a stretch to imagine that they’ll just kill you outright and try again with a meeker woman. You don’t yet know if death would be the more preferable outcome.
You pull your sweater down over your thighs. The black zip-up hoodie isn’t yours (the word Riley is stitched onto the front of it), but it’s big, and even though it smells faintly of cigarettes, it affords you at least a little modesty and comfort, more than the tank top and the sleep-shorts you’re wearing underneath do. Riley must be the third man. Was he the captain? Or was there a fourth one somewhere?
Johnny comes through the door carrying your suitcases, and he grins widely when he sees you, the charming, boyish one that you’d thought was handsome before. It’s only unnerving now. “Didja have a good sleep, bonnie?”
“You drugged me,” you accuse.
“Weel, of course. You were no’ goan ta come all peaceable, and LT wouldna be patient if ye were cryin’ the whole way here.” He trots upstairs, and you can hear him drop the bags with a thump, before he’s clattering back down the steps and leaning against the counter next to you. “How’d’ye like yer new home, bonnie? S’a nice place, aye? Better than tha’ little shoebox back in the city.”
“I like my apartment,” you protest.
“Psh, ye’d say tha’. Puttin’ on a brave face since yer such a good girl. But it wasna verra safe, was it? No’ a single neighbour paid us any mind while we were loadin’ up yer things. No’ a good place for a single girl, aye?” He reaches out and puts a big hand on your knee, squeezing lightly. “Now ye’ll be taken care of, like ye should be.”
“I don’t want to be taken care of.”
“Nonsense. Ye’ll be glad, once ye get used to things. Already looks real homey in here, don’t ye think?” He gestures at the living room.
You twist to look, and your stomach sinks. Your throw pillows are on the couch, one of the afghans you crocheted hanging over the back of it. You recognize the titles of your books on the shelves. These men were nothing if not thorough, surgically removing your entire life and transplanting it to this house in the woods, with it’s wood panel walls and big, overstuffed leather couches.
He continues blithely, like he’s not delivering some of the most horrifying news you’ve ever heard. “Most of your furniture’s in the garage, ye can sort tha’ out with Price, aye? But we brought all yer clothes and decorations and whatnot in. Figure ye should wear tha’ pretty black sundress, an’ those long stockin’s with the clippy belt, ye ken the one? Cap’ll like those.”
They’d been through all your things. If you had anything left to throw up, you might’ve again. Gaz sets a glass of water on the counter next to you. “How d’you take your tea, doll?”
“Milk, two sugars,” Johnny answers for you. “Our sweet lass has a sweet tooth, aye?”
“How do you know that?” You can hear the quiver in your voice, and it doesn’t slip by either of them.
“Come oan, hen, ye ken I didna jus’ pick ye off the street. Did my research. Wouldna pick just anyone for the captain.”
“When he said he’d found the perfect girl, we didn’t believe him at first,” Gaz says, leaning against the counter on the other side of the kitchen while the tea steeps. “But Ghost and I knew he was right, soon as we saw you.” He nods at the glass. “Drink your water. You haven’t had anything since last night.”
“Is it drugged?” you ask flatly.
“No, want ye awake for when Price gets here. Yer a real cute thing asleep, but we want him ta hear yer pretty voice and see that smile, aye?” Johnny reaches past you and picks up the glass of water, taking a big swig to demonstrate it’s harmlessness.
You take a careful sip when he hands it back to you, and then another, resisting the urge to just gulp the whole thing down. The door opens again, and the biggest man you’ve seen in your life walks in, wearing a black t-shirt and a mask with the jaw of a skull printed on it, pulled up over the lower half of his face. He looks at you dispassionately, and then at Gaz and Johnny. “What the ‘ell have you two muppets been sayin’ to the poor thing?” he asks, his voice rumbling like an avalanche. “She looks like she’s gonna faint.”
“Figure she’s just peaky,” Gaz says defensively. “I’m making her tea.”
The big guy swats Johnny’s hand away from your knee impatiently, and cages you in against the counter, one huge arm on either side of you. “How’re you feelin’ bird? Be honest.”
“Terrified,” you admit.
He chuckles. “Sensible, considerin’. But you don’t need to worry, olright? No one’s gonna hurt you, so long as you’re good. And you want to be good, don’t you, bird?”
You nod. You’d thought Gaz and Johnny were big, but this one’s huge, broad and tall and even scarier. It’s clear why they started off introducing themselves to you in the order they did. If this man had been the first thing you’d seen after waking up you probably would have gone into hysterics.
“Use your words, pet.”
“I want to be good,” you say obediently, because you don’t see any other options, at least for the moment.
“Good girl,” he says, and there’s the slightest hint of a smile in his dark eyes.
Somehow, this is the most comforting thing that you’ve experienced all day. You won’t be hurt if you’re good, and you are being good.
He pushes back from the counter slightly, giving you more space, takes the mug of tea from Gaz, and hands it off to you. “Small sips,” he instructs. “And maybe a biscuit, if you think you can keep it down.”
“Are you the captain?” you ask nervously, gripping the mug with two hands.
“Hm? No. ‘e’s still about an hour out. I’m Simon. Ghost to these two.” He fishes an open package of biscuits out of the cupboard and sets them next to you. “Once you finish your tea, we’ll get you ready. Want to make a good first impression, right bird?”
“Not really,” you admit. “I’d like to go home.”
He laughs, at least finding your honesty amusing. “That won’t be ‘appenin’. If Price dun’t want you, I’ll keep you myself. But I’ll tell you right now, you’ll like Price better. If you’re good for him, he’ll be real good to you, understood?”
You bite your tongue. It won’t do you any good to point out that a man that would accept a person as a gift is probably not capable of being good to anyone. Good is subjective, and the three men in front of you are lunatics. Their captain probably has the slightest bit stronger a grasp on his sanity, or a consistent moral code, if not a particularly righteous one. So you just keep your mouth shut, and drink your tea, and eat two chocolate digestives while Gaz and Johnny start collecting things to make dinner.
As soon as you set your empty mug to the side Ghost pops you down from the counter and ushers you upstairs with a big hand placed a little too low on your back. He tells you what to wear (down to the lingerie), but blessedly doesn’t insist on watching you get dressed. He does sit on the edge of the tub and watch you put on makeup, however, requesting red lipstick and winged eyeliner. Your hands are still a little shaky, but you manage to do as he asks. His eyes smile at you just a little when you’re obedient. You feel pathetic for not making a fuss, but you’re not sure what you can possibly do, except something stupid that will make them angry enough to hurt you.
He helps you into a pair of strappy red heels that had been languishing in the back of your closet before they dug everything out, and straightens the seam of your stockings, running his big hands up your calves. It’s like you’re a doll, dressed just how he wants, something to look pretty and say less than nothing, a gift for some other man you’ve never met to keep on a shelf.
Or worse, to play with.
You hear Johnny and Gaz greet someone downstairs, their voices loud and excited, and your heart skips nervously.
Ghost rises to his feet, smiling so big you can see it even with the mask. “Wait right here, pet,” he says firmly, leaving you sitting on the edge of the bed while he goes off to greet his captain. “Want to introduce you proper.”
So you sit, and you wait, shaking and nervous, for what feels like eternity, until you hear Simon’s surprisingly light footfalls on the stairs again. He offers you a hand, and hoists you over his shoulder as soon as you’re on your feet, carrying you down into the living room.
“We all pitched in,” Gaz says, as casually as if he meant throwing in five dollars for a card. “But she was Soap’s idea.”
“Picked ‘er out special, Cap,” Johnny says. “She’s perfect for ye.”
“She?” an unfamiliar voice asks. “Don’t tell me you got me a dog.”
“Better than that, skipper.” Ghost laughs as he circles around the couch, and drops you carefully into the man’s lap, stepping into line with the other two. “We got you a wife.”
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I've been low-key thinking about this concept since I read ohbo-ohno's Don't Leave Me Locked in Your Heart a while back (If you haven't read and you like a good dark fic, you should click that link, you may enjoy it). I think getting someone a person as a gift, or being given as a gift, rather, is a fun fucked up fantasy to explore. I'm not entirely sure where I'll take this but I promise to put in content warnings. Let me know if I miss something, I don't want anyone to be surprised by what they find!
Image Credits: Banner
Dividers: 1 - 2 - 3 by @/Cafekitsune
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inkskinned · 4 months
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i got rickrolled today but it didn't work because i have adblocker installed, so youtube just told me i violated the terms of service. yesterday i was trying to edit a picture as a joke for my girlfriend, and google made me check a box to prove i'm human because i wasn't "searching normally".
it isn't just that capitalism is killing fun and whimsy, it is that any element of entertainment or joy is being fed upon by this mosquito body, one that will suck you dry at any vulnerability.
do you want to meet new friends in your city? download this app, visit our website, sign up for our email list. pay for this class on making a terrarium, on candlemaking, on cooking. it will be 90 dollars a session. you can go to group fitness, but only under our specific gym membership. solve the puzzle, sign up for our puzzle-of-the-month-club. what is a club if not just a paid opportunity - you are all paying for the same thing, which makes you a community.
but you're like me, i know it - you're careful, you try the library meetings and the stuff at the local school and all of that. the problem is that you kind of want really specific opportunities that used to exist. you are so grateful for libraries and the publicly-funded things: they are, however, an exception - and everything they have, they've fought tooth-and-nail to protect. you read a headline about how in many other states, libraries have virtually nothing left.
do you want to meet up with your friends afterwards? gift your friends the discord app. you can choose to go to a cafe (buy a coffee, at least), a bar (money, alcohol) or you can all stay in and catch a movie (streaming) or you can all stay in bed (rent. don't get me started) and scream (noise complaint. ticket at least).
you want to read a new book, but the book has to have 124 buzzwords from tiktok readers that are, like, weirdly horny. you can purchase this audiobook on audible! your podcast isn't on spotify, it's on its own server, pay for a different site. fuck, at least you're supporting artists you like. the art museum just raised their ticket price. once, they had a temporary exhibit that acknowledged that ~85% of their permanent art galleries were from cis white men, and that they had thousands of works by women (even famous women, like frida! georgia o'keefe!) just rotting in their basement. that exhibit lasted for 3 months and then they put everything away again.
walmart proudly supports this strip of land by the street! here are some flowers with wilting leaves. its employees have to pay out-of-pocket for their uniforms. my friend once got fined by the city because she organized a community pick-up of the riverfront, which was technically private property.
no, you cannot afford to take that dance class, neither can i. by the way - i'm a teacher. i'm absolutely not saying "educators shouldn't be paid fairly." i'm saying that when i taught classes, renting a studio went from 20 bucks an hour to 180 in the span of 6 months. no significant changes to the studio were made, except they now list the place as updated and friendly. the heat still doesn't work in the building. i have literally never seen the landlord who ignores my emails. recently they've been renting it out at night as an "unusual nightclub; a once-in-a-lifetime close-knit party." they spent some of those 180 dollars on LEDs and called it renovating. the high heels they invite in have been ruining the marley.
do you want to experience the old internet? do you want to play flash games or get back the temporary joy of club penguin? you can, you just need to pay for it. i have a weird, neurodivergent obsession with occasionally checking in to watch the downfall and NFT-ification of neopets. if i'm honest with you all - i never got into webkins, my family didn't have the money to buy me a pointless elephant. people forget that "being poor" can mean literally "if i buy you that toy, i can't afford rent."
you and i don't have time to make good food, and we don't have the budget for it. we are not gonna be able to host dinner parties, we're not made of money, kid. do you want some kind of 3rd space? a space that isn't home or work or school? you could try being online, but - what places actually exist for you? tiktok counts as social media because you see other people on it, not because they actually talk to you.
there was a local winter tradition of sledding down the hill at my school. kids would use pizza boxes and jackets and whatever worked, howling and laughing. back in september, they made a big announcement that this time, rules were changing, and everyone must pay 10 dollars to participate. when im not scared shitless, i kind of appreciate the environmental irony - it hasn't gone below 40. so much for snow & joyriding.
i saw a bulletin for a local dogwalking group and, nervous about making a good first impression, showed up early. the first guy there grimaced at me. "sorry," he said. "there's a 30-dollar buy-in fee." i thought he was joking. wait. for what? the group doesn't offer anything except friendship and people with whom to walk around the city.
he didn't know the answer. just shrugged at me. "you know," he said. "these days, everything costs money."
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winkwonkwankwenk · 2 months
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Jealousy alastor headcanons?? Like what does it for him and how he acts? Please?
Jealous Alastor Head-cannons!!
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It doesn't take much to make him jealous, the fact that other men breathe the same air as you is enough to annoy him. He normally can keep himself calm, but if one moves an inch too close his voice will glitch and that's their warning.
"You're oddly cozy with them, Y/N." He'll sneer if you ever mention the person around him. He's not looking for validation, he knows you aren't interested in anyone else, he just wants to make it known he's aware of your little friend and they better stay as that and nothing more.
What are you doing with them? Where? Why? Can he tag along? If you say no, he'll just follow you from the shadows. Who's so important you're with them instead of him? He gets possessive, cling even.
Will leave doodles of whoever you're hanging out with dead out in the open when they're around, just to watch the panic on their face. "What? I was feeling creative."
P. E. T. T. Y. He'll do things just to get your attention like bump into you on "accident" or death glare at who you're talking to until they walk away. Don't even bother lecturing him about it, he'll just give you a satisfied smirk because at least you're only focused on him now.
If you're gone for too long you'll turn around to him looming over you. He'll have his arms crossed, eyes narrowed, and smile a bit too low. "How long are you going to be occupied?" He's asking to be polite, he's going to whisk you away from whatever (or whoever) you're distracted by.
Complains to Rosie about whoever has you distracted and also learns everything about them from her through gossip. He's better than an FBI agent, knowing them inside and out- he learned their allergies out of curiosity and definitely not to trigger them.
Did they just touch you? They'll wake up fingerless. He only keeps them alive because you're so fond of them. How annoying. He'll give them a few more chances before getting rid of them for good, but the moment he hears a single compliment that's a bit too passionate they've got to go.
Will casually gaslight you if you ask if he hurt them. "Darling, I'd never do anything to hurt you." He'll say while holding his bloody hands behind his back. It's not a lie, manipulation? Sure. It's for your own good. You're better off without them.
Hides their body under your floorboards so he can give it to you as a birthday gift. What's better than closure?
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Like my writing? Check out my Ao3!! Reblogs appreciated!! I have an ongoing Alastor x Reader fic right now that updates weekly!
Join my discord!!
Requests open!!
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mncxbe · 2 months
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𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭...
ღೀ๋࣭ ⭑𝒄𝒘: age gap relationship, old men fantasizing about their younger colleagues, itty bitty smut, dilfs
Men who are reluctant to ask you out because they don't wanna come across as creeps. They know how unusual it is for a man their age to be interested in a younger woman, but they just can't help it. You're so pretty, cheerful and kind, their little ray of sunshine.
Men who know you're at their beck and call and always make the most of it– be it for asking you to bring them a coffee or simply helping them write a report. Anything just to hear you say "yes sir" in that sweet voice of yours.
Men who can't wait for your birthday so they can finally spoil you rotten with gifts, claiming that it's only natural for them to give you something since you're working so hard and doing such a good job. A little token of gratitude. They love watching you unpack your gift, feigning surprise when you tell them it was exactly the thing you wanted. They hit you with a "Oh really now? That's just wonderful. I'm glad to hear you like it" as if they haven't observed you carefully over the past few months and know everything you like and dislike.
Men who feel guilty when their pants tighten as they watch you bend over to pick something up from the floor. They can only imagine how wonderful you'd look bent over their desk with your panties moved to the side– your pretty cunt sucking them in so snuggly.
Men who think of you a bit too much when they're alone, who do their best not to touch themselves out of respect for you but still end up failing miserably. After a hard day at work the only thing that relaxes them is dirty thoughts of you. They always play it cool the next day at work, as if they haven't moaned your name as they came in their fists last night. and the night before that. and the night before that.
Men who eventually notice that you're also interested in them and feel like they're on cloud nine. All their dreams come true when you start giving them little hints– a lingering touch here, an invitation to a bar after work there– but they don't want to rush things. Nah, they take things slow and make sure you're aware of how much you mean to them before even dreaming of laying a finger on you.
Men who are the happiest they've been in years when, after a few weeks of taking you out on dates and treating you to dinner, finally spend the night with you. They make it all about you, really. For once, they set aside their own selfish desires and focus on giving you pleasure like you've never felt before, making use of the many years of experience they have.
Men who love it when you cum for them– it really gets them going. It's soul soothing: watching you melt into the mattress and babble out some sweet nonsense about how good they make you feel. They're so gentle and caring in bed because you're just too precious, but they will gladly spice things up if you want it. Trying out new positions? sure. Toys? on the table. Anything for their pretty darling as long as you keep calling them sir when they're deep inside you.
Men who're already looking for engagement rings less than a year into the relationship. You've got something good going on, so why not? It's not like they're getting any younger. They're more than willing to spend the rest of their life with you, if you want so too, and they aren't going to waste any time to put a ring on your finger.
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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒: 𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐛𝐞, 𝐅𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐢, 𝐇𝐢𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐬𝐮, 𝐅𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐳𝐚𝐰𝐚, 𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢, 𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐚, 𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢 (𝐣𝐤 𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐧𝐨 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐞)
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heartfullofleeches · 2 months
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"A tour of my room :)"
-
"Is it on? The red light is flashing so..... Hi! It's so nice to meet you whoever you are... My name is Y/n and..... This is my room! Red gave me permission to record this video after they told me what a camera is. My head still hurts a little from all the crying I had to do to convince them to let me keep this- but I'm okay! What should I show you first?....hm...."
You take a quick look of your surroundings - the hollow ping of metal hitting the poles of your bed catching your ear, steering your gaze towards your weighted wrists.
"My bracelets! Red gave them to me my first night home. The leash is to make sure I don't wander off. I used to do that a lot actually. It's long enough I can comfortably walk around the kitchen, the bathroom, and Red's room. Those are pretty much all the places I need to go. If I pull my bed away from the wall, I can almost touch the front-"
Knock- knock- knock-
Only three... Not them....
.....
"Moving on! As you can see under me, this is my bed. I don't use it much since Red likes when I sleep with them. If you look really close riiight there - you can see Red carved our names into the headboard. They've carved our named into a lot of things we own. I think it's their favorite hobby."
You point upwards at your caretaker's beautiful craftsmanship. Heavy pounds channels through the walls - the frame of your bed imitating the knocks at the front door as it taps your bedroom wall in an that dreaded sound-
Knock, knock, knock-
"Over here is my dresser, where I keep most of my things."
Sliding off the edge of the bed, you recenter your new camera towards your dresser. You knew Red cleaned while you were asleep so there wasn't much on top of the furniture besides a stuffed fox they gifted you your first night home, and a spool of wool rendered useless due to sharp tears in the fabric. There were some picture frames as well, but those were more for Red than anything. The less you had to see your face the better
"I really wanted to try knitting like Red does, but my claws always tear the wool. Next to that is Mr. Rabbit. Red said they got him when they were little and it helped them feel less scared - so they gave it to me to make me free better. I don't want to hurt him so he sleeps here. Above my dresser is the list of rules Red has for me. It's really short - because they said I'm a good person. Red is still teaching me how to read, but i still remember what they told me-"
You pick up the camera, angling it up at the tapestry as you speak
"No eating on the couch-"
"Clean your teeth after every meal."
"Ignore any voices that are not Red's."
"The only time you're allowed to enter the basement is if your teeth start to feel itchy."
"And lastly.... Do not open the front door unless you hear the special knock we created together."
The last one is easy to follow.
"Help! Please, somebody- help! My boyfriend is hurt, I can't stop the bleeding. We were attacked some maniac in this... fucked up mask. Please - open the fucking door!"
You walk to the opposite side of the room, facing away from the window.
"Red.... Red doesn't let me do a lot of things. They were so mad at me when they found me cleaning the storage closet, but their mood changed so fast when they saw I found this... They said it's a music player. I like when they play music from their phone. They said when I'm too scared to watch t.v in the living room to drown out the noises I can just play one of these these...re....reco...."
Knock.
"Go away!"
Go away, go away- Why can't they just leave you alone. Why can't they understand it's better this way? Whatever Red will do.... It's better than..... Red. Where's Red? Why aren't they home yet? You're scared. Scared of what you'll do. Where is Red? Red - Red, please come home. I'm so hungry.
Dinner... Dinner is right outside, but you're a good person - just like they said. You'll wait for Red. They'll probably be home at any second - cries that loud could be heard for miles in a place like this. You just have to wait.
"I.....I guess I just put the record in here, then. Red is gonna be so proud of me for doing this by myself. Thank you for everything you do for me, Red..... I hope you all liked my tour!"
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nerdofspades · 1 year
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Bruce looked at the pop-up on the Batcomputer's screen.
"Explain," he growled, glancing down at Tim.
"Not much to explain," Tim answered, pulling up lines of code. "It showed up ten seconds ago."
"I'm starting a full diagnostic," Barbara said, voice filtering through the speakers. "So far, I'm not seeing anything."
"And yet..." Time trailed off glancing at the window again. It had a video queued up to play and the words "IMPORTANT: PLEASE WATCH. DO NOT DELETE" in large text at the top.
"There's a new folder labeled 'a gift for Batman,'" Tim said. "Not something any of us made."
"Clearly."
"I'm still not finding any viruses, corrupted files, or spyware," Oracle said. "The new folder was programmed to stay in a hidden partition for a few days after it was placed. Then, obviously, the pop-up to catch our attention."
"Folder also has a text file named 'security notes,'" Tim said. "Maybe our new hacker is friendly?"
"It's starting to look like it," Oracle agreed. "The video is clean. It should be safe to watch."
Bruce sighed. "Then let's see what they've got for us."
-
The video opened with a dark room. The background hidden in shadows, while the foreground was well lit, letting them clearly see the tired teen in the center of the frame as he took a heavy swig from his mug before putting it down.
"Pulling up facial recognition."
He ran a hand through his messy black hair and then down his face, pinching his nose and hiding the bags under his blues eyes for a moment before he dropped his hand and finally looked at the camera.
"I really don't want to do this," he said, "but you need it." He glanced longingly off screen in the direction of the mug he'd put down.
"First of all, I think I should apologize for hacking you. Or asking my friend to, technically. I just. You need to know about this and I didn't know of another way to get it to you that would be secure.
"I did at least make him promise to make a record of how he got in so you can patch that.
"That out of the way... to business? I'm Danny Fenton, for the last year or so I have also been the hero Phantom in Amity Park. My parents are Jack and Maddie Fenton. They are ectobiologists and ghost hunters. While extremely biased and not actually that good at catching ghosts, their tech is easily the best in the business."
"That's a positive match."
"Running a search on Phantom."
"I- fucking shit." Danny put his head in his hands again, running them back through his hair before leaning back, almost collapsing into the chair.
"This kid has... gotten into some shit."
"Everyone knows you're the League's strategist, Batman. And. I'm strong enough. I can handle my problems, that's not what I'm worried about.
"It's been about a year and I've already been mind controlled once." Danny laughed. A dry, broken, almost desperate laugh. "And that was just some lowlife that wanted to rob jewelry stores. I'm still not worried about. It's not why I'm sending you this. The magic relic he used is broken and gone now."
"Well that explains one of his problems."
"The others?"
"An attempted kidnapping and fairly standard property damage. I want to see some footage of those fights before passing judgement."
"Even more standard given he doesn't seem to have a mentor. Batman, he was fourteen."
"No. I. I've seen a version of the future. One where I go mad. Where I snap. And the Justice League can't stop me.
"I don't know if I- he kills everyone. I don't know who, if anyone, makes it out. But it's not anyone that could really do much. I... I saw ten years after he- I snapped. Earth was little more than rubble and ash. Only one city was left holding out and it was about to fall- was falling when I got there.
"I've managed to change the time line. What broke him didn't happen here. But. I can't guarantee nothing ever could.
"So. Yeah. Next best thing is making sure you're prepared. All my powers. All my weaknesses. Everything I know of that could possibly hurt me. Schematics and blue prints for anything you could need to fight me, track me, keep me out, keep me contained. All nice and giftwrapped for your convenience.
"Uh... that's everything. Why is it always so awkward to end a video? Hopefully we never see each other? I guess? Pretty sure us actually meeting is gonna be a bad sign.
"You know what. I'm gonna turn this thing off now before I say something stupid."
-
"Batman, who's 'Phantom'?" Superman asked, glancing up from the Watchtower computer he was working at. "Aren't we supposed to vote on new members?"
Batman grunted. "He's not a member, just someone who understands the need for contingencies."
"You know what, I'm not gonna even ask."
"Probably for the best."
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evilminji · 7 months
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Actually? WOULD Earth be the ones to petition Oa?
They are interstellar Space Interpol. You don't usually call them on different parts of your OWN settlements or systems. You call them in when someone is breaking THE Laws. Not necessarily YOUR laws, though obviously by breaking THE laws they clearly ARE. But THE Big Laws(tm).
Like Geneva Convention for Space type laws.
You have discovered Planet or King X is committing WAR CRIMES. Call Oa. Tax fraud? That's an inter-personal planet side issue they can't help you with. Pointing Nukes at your nursery settlement and threatening to blow up the infants there unless you give them sex-slaves?
Knock-knock! Taste HARD Light Constructs!
But if so? Then how would the situation get so out of hand on Earth? With the G.I.W.? Simple. Tell me, Mr. President, what do you know of the current day to day life of villagers in rural Siberia?
That they exist? Could you even NAME their village, if I referenced specific individuals? Likely not. And no one would realistically expect you too.
There are countless planets out there! With Leaders busy with local industrial conferences and infrastructure bills. Farming regulations. Talks with that planet a few stars over. Very busy. What do THEY know of Earth? Why would they NEED too?
But! As we know, Ectoplasm is EVERYWHERE. Not just earth. And? Thin spots are not just an Earth-centric phenomenon. Other planets most CERTAINLY would have them too. And depending on the species? The culture? To quote the wise sage Bill Wurtz "you can make a religion out of this!"
After all, chosen few, returned from death... glowing and more powerful then before? Immortal? It's a pretty reasonable conclusion to come too. They are clearly Gods Touched. Some sacred task they must complete.
It would likely even shape the ghosts of the region themselves. After all, they TOO, would believe they were chosen for some Important Religious Task. Be it study or collecting rocks. To what end? Unknown. Who are they to question The Gods?
But! Oh happy day! The old tyrant is no more! A chosen Hero! They go to greet him! Honor him, as you do. Traditional gifts and ballads. Maybe some sacred rocks. A fancy hat. But? Oh? The Champion is wounded! Gasp! Still? But the fight with Pariah happened-
And then they are given Grave Warning(tm). Don't go to Earth. Heretics attacking people. KILLING souls! Trying to KILL the king of all the Infinite! He is somber because his living parents were hurt. Preventing the END OF ALL THINGS!!!??
WHAT!?
These "People In White" tried to EXPLODE the very FABRIC of all realities!? Several of them faint. Truely, these Fentons MUST be chosen by the Gods! Heros. Legends. Such bravery in the face of such HORRORS. Please, let them be brought to their Living counterparts! The hospitals are quite good!
And you know what? Fuck it. Danny will take that. Because his Mom n Dad got hurt. BAD.
They learned he was Phantom at probably the SINGLE worst time imaginable and still chose HIM. Chose THEM. The GIW were coming for him. Gonna hurt Jazz. And his parents told them, with fire and blood, it'd be a cold day in hell before they let them so much as TRY it.
They BLEW UP their own life's work. Went literally scorched earth. And now? They're not doing so good.
Because the Zone isn't made for the living. No food, no water, and no real human-safe medical supplies. They've run out. Danny will take what he can get. He'd even go to Vlad but... his Portal's gone too. And the Buzzards said he looked... spirally. Very... "suicide runs until everything BURNS".
So, yeah. No one's doing so great.
Alien planet it is.
They are greeted with fanfare and respect. The best medical teams on the PLANET. The King and his family is there, to welcome him. It's... it's beautiful. Hardly some perfect utopia, but the air is lite. Art everywhere. The stars vivid and so easy to see, at night.
The King kinda reminds him of Mr. Lancer to be honest. Balding and a bit round around the middle, stern but endlessly fair about it, wants people to do their best and succeed in life. Maybe that's why Danny finds himself opening up. Because... because here is a real, honest to God, KING king.
Somebody who was actually TRAINED to do all this King stuff.
Unlike Danny.
And Danny? He's scared. People expect him to Lead now. To know what he's doing. To somehow just... suddenly KNOW how to do all these things he's never even heard about. He only barely just died. Has BARELY been keeping everybody safe.
BARELY stopped Pariah.
He doesn't know what to do. But he pours his guts out. All the things that have bottled up. And King Not-Lancer listens. Somber and thoughtful. There is little, if anything he can TRUELY do to help. But... there ARE things he can do. Lessons on statescraft, while he's here, for one.
As for the other? Well, as King, he does have the local Lantern's Call Sign. Not to be used lightly, mind you. But what Danny describes? And from what the Sacred Ones have reported? THAT must be reported to Oa. He can show Danny how to do that.
(He does)
[The Lanterns of Earth get a VERY exciting call from Oa. Are every different shade of pissed. But? Whoops! Looks like they ACCIDENTALLY put the Watchtower into a complete Quarantine! Well, dang. Guess we're all stuck here for two weeks!
Reset it? *sound of smashing computer terminal* Yeah, don't think that's gonna work! :)
WHO WANTS TO PLAY 20 QUESTIONS?? We'll start! :) Who here has heard of an organization called, and I quote, The Ghost Investigation Ward? :) ]
@hdgnj @ailithnight @nerdpoe @the-witchhunter
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ode2rin · 1 year
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can you see right through me?
pairing. mikage reo x gn!reader
genre. fluffy fluff | pro-athlete!reo | established relationship | reo spoiling you (i mean it’s reo) | a light angst if you squint hard !! 
warnings. 2.1k wc | characters are aged up ! | reader wears a dress | mentions of insecurity | inspired from a taylor swift song (ik i’m sorry i’m crazy abt her) | proofreading? nah we don't know her | (lmk if i missed any?? i suck at making these)
in which: you see more behind reo’s gift-giving love language
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“hey, love! look what i got!” reo called out, as soon as he entered the apartment.
no “i’m home” in a sing-song voice or “baby, where are you?” in a needy whine, like he usually does. instead, he was grinning - full on beaming, actually. it was evident how his voice sounded so excited, like he was dying to show you whatever he brought home.
you peered out from the kitchen to look at your beaming boyfriend. and literally, you felt your jaw drop from the sight of your lover carrying what seemed like a hundred amount of shopping bags in his toned arms. you bet it was heavy, as the veins in his arms were slightly popping. 
reo had said he was going out to pick up a “few things” on the way home. these are totally not a few things. you knew reo had a habit of going overboard when it came to shopping. but this one, this one was an extreme shopping spree. he was practically bouncing with excitement as he showed you everything.
he began to rummage through the bags, pulling out various items with each sentence he spoke. you could see the excitement in his eyes, as he showed off his purchases. he held up a beautiful dress, admiring its design, “look at this, baby! the shop attendant said this one just came in and only two people have this in japan, can you believe that? well, i got the third one! i thought how good it would look on you then got it -” he paused for a moment, looking at you with an impish grin, “- i mean, i got it for you, my love.”
reo then pulled out a box of skincare products, “and look at these! i remembered you were running out of these last night, so i got a few for you. the salesperson said they're the only stocks they've got, so i had to get them all!”
reo then held up a pair of shoes, “oh, and these! i saw them and thought, ‘that’s the perfect pair for my love!’” he twirled them around. “and this one’s my favorite!” he exclaimed, holding up a beautiful necklace, “the color of the gems complement your skin so good! maybe let’s go out tomorrow, and try if you’ll like this? what do you think, love?”
he was rambling on and on, his excitement infectious. you couldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm, even as you struggled to process everything he was saying. clothes, jewelry, shoes, skincare, and are those freaking boxes of limited edition nespresso capsules?
before you could even answer, reo's eyes widened as he suddenly remembered something else he had to show you. “oh! and i got us tickets to the premiere showing of the movie you told me about! i was hoping we could go? to make up for the movie night i missed.”
ah. now, you have an idea what this is all about.
reo and you have a weekly movie night, it started when you first moved in with him. it’s a tradition that you both cherish, a small but meaningful way to unwind and connect amidst the chaos of daily life. a tradition in your relationship that you both look forward to as it’s your sweet escape from the grueling responsibilities that comes with adulthood. it was nothing grand, it’s just you and reo, getting cozy on the couch of your shared abode, surrounded by pillows and blankets. sometimes he’ll pick out the movie, most of the time, he gives you the power to it.  regardless of who picks the movie, you both lose yourselves in the story, laughing and crying and feeling all the emotions that the characters are experiencing. you share thoughts and opinions, discussing the plot twists and character arcs, and sometimes even acting out your favorite scenes together. 
it’s a simple tradition, but it’s one that brings you both so much joy. and that’s why, when reo missed movie night 2 nights ago because of practice running late, he felt like he had let you down. 
when he came home later that night, it was well past midnight and you had long since fallen asleep on the couch, the remnants of your popcorn and half-finished drinks still on the coffee table. but as he tiptoed in, trying not to wake you, he couldn't help but notice the soggy popcorn and feel a pang of guilt for missing your movie night. the morning after, he woke up early and was all over you, showering you with kisses and apologies for being late. you held him through it, playing with his hair and telling him that it was no big deal, that you understood how important his career was to him.
looking at it now, perhaps the assurance you gave was a bit insufficient to ease reo’s guilt to say the least. determined to lift off what he might be feeling, you turned off the stove and went to where your boyfriend was. he looked at you curiously as you cupped his face in your hands.
“thank you for being so thoughtful and buying me these, reo. i appreciate all of this baby, i do. but i know you. so spill my love, what is this all about, hmm?” you asked, staring at him, with a small smile as you let out a hum.
from then and there, reo felt like you’d seen right through him. 
you’re right. reo, missing the movie night, lingered through his thoughts far longer than it should be. you said it was fine, so it should be fine for reo. except that it’s not. 
a few moons ago, reo’s life was all easy they come, easy they go. it was the upside of being born into privilege. but when he chose to chart his own course, everything changed. nothing came easy anymore. he had to prove his existence to earn the things that mattered most. the soccer career that made him a star, and the love of his life - you, who brought him a happiness he never knew existed - he could only live this life because he proved himself worthy. 
but what they don’t tell you about constantly proving your worth is how restless you grow at the slightest possibility of losing everything you've worked for. 
reo felt that he had to make it up to you because he fears the notion that his one mistake could be the beginning of a pattern, a repetition of his rich yet absent parents' reckless lifestyle filled with empty apologies and unfulfilled promises. the weight of this realization petrified him, leaving him with a burning desire to make it up to you. so he did, in the only way he knew best - shower you with gifts.
and that basically sums up how reo went to an all out shopping spree. in his defense, he was only supposed to buy the skincare you ran out of. grab then leave, that was the plan. but things at the mall definitely escalated as reo passed by a designer boutique. before he knew it, he was walking out with shopping bags overflowing with designer clothes, shoes, and accessories.
apparently, your perceptive eyes caught on to this. at first, you thought it was just another day of reo being him, with his fondness of giving you gifts. but at the mention of the movie tickets, his scheme gave him away. and now he’s here, standing before you, face held by your soft hands.
reo couldn't bring himself to meet your eyes, so he focused on the marbled floor beneath his feet. “i...i wanted to make it up to you for missing movie night,” he stammered. “i know you said it was okay, but it wasn't okay for me. i feel like i let you down.” he struggled to articulate the knot of insecurity that had been building inside him since he missed the date. he struggled to tell you how it felt like a crack in the foundation of your relationship, and how terrified he was that it would widen into an irreparable chasm. “i’m sorry,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “i just wanted to show you how determined i am to make it up to you.”
your eyes softened as you took in his words. your hands instinctively reached up to gently brush away the hair covering his eyes. his big purple eyes that you love so much. it was one of the many few things that made you fall in love with him. you couldn't help but be drawn in by the deep purple hue of his eyes, so full of confidence and power when he was on the field, yet so tender and vulnerable in your presence. 
“i must have been a superhero in my past life to be loved by someone like you, my sweet reo..” you chuckled at the cheesiest of the thought. he smiled at the sound of your laughter.
it was true though. he was charming, attentive, thoughtful, a gentleman through and through. he was everything and more. so to say that you were lucky to have him was the understatement of the century. it was as if having the moon and the stars align just for you, as if fate smiled at your direction. to be loved by someone like reo mikage was like being wrapped in a warm blanket of security, knowing that even the slightest misstep could cause him to worry about losing you. but it was that very worry that proved just how much he cherished your love, like a precious treasure that he held in the palm of his hand. who could ever leave someone like that? a fool, that’s who.
you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, your hand still caressing his cheek. then you pressed a kiss to his left cheek, on to his right, and finally to his lips.  as you leaned in and brushed your lips against each of his features, a softness washed over you, the warmth of your affection for him filling every inch of your being. “i know that you felt bad, love. but you do know that i love you, right?” you murmured against his lips, “and missing our movie night doesn’t change a thing about that, baby. i love you for who you are, reo. not for what you do.”
as your words sunk in, reo felt like you had seen right through him. for so long, he had believed that his worth was tied to what he could offer, but you had shown him that he could be loved simply for being himself. the weight of that realization lifted from his shoulders, and he felt a rush of warmth spread through his body.
“how could you say things like that and expect me not to do everything for you?” he whispered, the love in his heart for you growing even stronger.
but you just smiled at him, your eyes filled with a tenderness that made his heart skip a beat. “i don't expect anything from you, my love,” you said softly. “just come home to me, and we'll figure everything out together.”
“that, i can promise to do everyday.” 
in this home, he could just be reo, no longer compelled to prove his worth or live in fear of losing everything he had worked for. with you, he was enough.
“i’m sure you do.”
who could ever leave someone like reo mikage? a fool, that’s who. but who could stay? without a doubt, you could. 
as you both settled into your evening skincare routine later that night, with no traces of any heaviness from what happened earlier, reo turned towards your side of the sink and asked, "can we still go to that premiere, love?" his eyes twinkled with excitement.
“only if you promise that you won’t do this again. baby, this is a lot! and that moisturizer, you brought enough to last me for months! what were you thinking?!” you exclaim, holding up the said moisturizer.
reo chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "i guess i got a little carried away."
“you definitely did. the amount of paper bags i had to fold was insane. if you’re hiding more, i would really smack you. i swear, reo mikage.”
reo gives you a mischievous grin, his eyes shining with amusement. "oh, i wouldn't dream of hiding anything from you, love." but he can't help but feel a twinge of guilt as he remembers the other bags he left in the car. no need to mention it now though. he'll just have to sneak out later and grab them when you're fast asleep.
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note. PURE WORD VOMIT I AM: SORRY came up with this because i’m convinced mikage reo is an “archer”  just like me fr ;) so this is my interpretation of the song esp the “do you see right through me?” !!
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deconstructthesoup · 1 month
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Personal Ranking of the Fantasy High Moms, From Worst to Best:
Arianwen Abernant: -19999/10. She's not as bad as Angwyn, since she's convinced herself she's a good mother, but her "I just want the best for you" shtick isn't any better, and the fact that she's ignorant about how horrible she is doesn't make up for years of neglect. And she also attempted to rope her daughters into raising a being of pure nightmares because she lost her status, so.
Donna Applebees: 0/10. Conservative, racist, judgmental, only loves her kids conditionally... you get the gist. Also, she's absolutely a Karen.
Hallariel Seacaster: 3/10. Yes, I know, she's a MILF, she's got such an iconic vibe, she's a badass with a sword, but none of that excuses years of being emotionally absent from your son's life. She's not a bad person, but she unfortunately doesn't know how to be a mom. Sorry, Hallariel. I wish I could rank you higher.
The Last Phoenix: 5/10. Bird. She's a bird. We don't know enough about her except for the fact that she is the last phoenix, she started out as a "haha Arthur Aguefort is a crazy motherfucker" gag, and she gave us the incredible gift that is Ayda. I cannot rank her fairly, but given that she is Ayda's mom, she goes on the list.
Roz Last-Name-Unknown: 6/10. Same deal with Gorbag---we don't know enough about her for me to properly rank her, but we do know that she was a teen mom, and she's made the choice to reconnect with her son and be in his life. Props for that.
Sandralynn Faeth: 7.5/10. I am ranking her realistically, but let it be known that I love her so much. She is such a beautiful example of a flawed person who consistently tries to be better, and even though she does relapse into old behaviors, she's still growing---and outside of the serial cheating (that is a response to trauma, by the way) and occasional lapses in social skills, she's a pretty damn good mom, all things considered.
Cathilda Ceili: 8/10. She's the parent that Fabian needed, even if he didn't always realize it. She's sweet, she's caring, and if anybody hurts her boy, she will fucking rock your shit. (Also, the reveal of Cathilda being an incredibly fearsome and ruthless pirate outside of Solace was one of my favorites.)
Wilma Thistlespring: 9/10. She's a caring and supportive mom who writes songs, is sex-positive, and loves her son! Again, she does need to recognize when she's embarrassing Gorgug, and she needs to recognize that he's gotta learn how to be angry, but still! We all love her!
Lydia Barkrock: 9.6/10. While she doesn't quite get the full score due to the fact that her son was briefly an ass, it clearly was not her fault, and from what we've seen of her, she is a fantastic mom. She's a badass disabled powerhouse who cooks incredible spreads and cares about her son and his friends a lot. I love her a lot. She's amazing.
Sklonda Gukgak: 10/10. She took that spot in her very first scene, where she poured water in her cereal so Riz could have milk in his, and she's been holding it up ever since. Despite the fact that she's constantly swamped with work, Sklonda is literally one of the best moms you could ever ask for. She deserves the world and it's a constant injustice that she's not getting it.
Bonus: Garthy O'Brien, while having transcended gender and therefore not being able to fit into either of the "mom/dad" rankings, is an 11/10 parent---not just to Ayda, but to everyone younger than them who they've essentially adopted. Words cannot express my adoration for this person.
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pilfappreciator · 4 months
Text
Part 1 | Part 2
WAKE UP BABES!! DINNER IS SERVED!!!
Bruce/Brandi x Reader: part 2
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Includes: GN! Reader, Vacay Lovers, polyamory, relationship headcanons, slight Bruce Jr. slander
💜 These two took things slow when they were wooing you, you better BELIEVE they're gonna do the same once you've actually been bagged
🧡 I MEAN DON'T GET ME WRONG!! They're not any less passionate about you or anything, but like... c'mon. They're middle-aged, run a full time business and are married with kids. They've got a lot on their hands already so chances are they're not immediatly urging you to move in with them or just straight up sign marriage documents (sorry to disappoint u_u)
💜 But like I said: this doesn't mean they're not good lovers
🧡 In fact I'd say in my entirely unbiased opinion that they'd make fantastic lovers! Wonderful! Superb, even!
💜 So naturally, once you find yourself added to the relationship? Expect all that supportive energy thrown your way too lol
🧡 No matter what endeavor you choose to pursue, rest easy knowing you'll have your own personal cheerleaders having your back at all times. You got a hobby you're really into? SAY LESS BABES!! Gift-giving is Brandi's love language so you bet your ass she's buying you everything you could possibly need. Wanna pursue some form of higher education, maybe get some fancy degree? BOOM, you've just signed yourself up for study sessions with Bruce
💜 (I mean like... he might not be much help if you're studying for something shmancy like law or medicine, but he will happily hold and read out flashcards for you :3)
🧡 Or maybe you just wanna help out around Vacay Island which? Yes hello they would love that??
💜 Running a business is no easy feat so the couple definitely welcome the extra set of hands (paws??). If you're more social and outgoing then chances are you're out on the front lines with Bruce, taking orders for food, welcoming guests and getting them settled in, leading activites like volleyball or the weekly shuffleboard tournament, etc.
🧡 Obviously if you'd rather remain behind the scenes, you're more than welcome to join Brandi on her end of things. Making food, booking guests into their rooms, keeping track of all the finances, etc.
💜 Maybe you're crap with spreadsheets and numbers and just wanna like... keep her company while she works at her desk? Grab her some refreshments every now and then?? Maybe even offer a shoulder massage once you've noticed she's been hunched over for too long???
🧡 I swear this woman will cherish you forever
💜 Whether you're another troll like Bruce or a fellow Vacationer like Brandi, the way you spend time with either of these two can differ
🧡 If you're on the smaller side? Bruce just enjoys getting to hold your hand while walking alongside you on the beach. The man spends pretty much all his time around literal giants and it can get a little overwhelming sometimes, so he can definitely appreciate having someone around who's more on his level (hehe). Brandi on the other hand just thinks your small size is cute! Hands down one of her favorite things is when either you or Bruce (OR BOTH) just like? Casually hitch a ride on her shoulder?? Or she'll hold you both in the palm of of her hand and just go "omigosh it's totally like holding a couple of grapes haha :D"
💜 Reader POV: Ah yes. Me, my boyfriend, and our giant girlfriend/wife
🧡 On the flipside, if you're closer to Brandi's size? This woman is taking every available opportunity to take full advantage of the fact. She's laying kisses all over your face, running her fingers through your hair, cuddling with you after a long day of work, etc etc. Technically speaking she COULD (and DOES) do all this regardless of how big/small you are... but at the same time it's just soooo much easier when she doesn't have to constantly watch herself so she doesn't accidentally crush you ://
💜 Meanwhile Bruce is just like "if either of you DO crush me... you won't hear any complaints from my end, just sayin"
🧡 Man is horrendously down bad 😳
💜 Last post i was like OUTINGS WITH BRANDI, but this post?? SURFING LESSONS WITH BRUCE! This man will not rest until you know how to ride a wave, okay, he is DEDICATED. Once you've gotten good enough, expect regular invites to the beach so you two can hit the ocean asdjahdslak
🧡 I like to think that even while running a business and family, Bruce and Brandi are still perfectly capable of maintaining a healthy love life— both with each other and you. Partly because they're just that in love but also cuz they don't let ANYTHING get in the way of weekly date nights (yeah that's right, plural)
💜 Bruce, on the phone: "Hey honey, me and (____) are outside the resturaunt. Where are you?"
"Oh, I'll probably be a few minutes. Bruce Jr. just set off a firework in the kitchen, you know how he is. But you two should go get us a table while you're waiting!"
"Alright, we'll see you later, love you :)"
"I love you guys more~"
🧡 And then Bruce just... hangs up and leads you inside the resturaunt, meanwhile you're just?? Very concerned????
💜 Dates with these two are pretty casual ngl. Neither feel the need for extravagant displays of love, so chances are the three of you are just spending some quality time together. Chillin at home without the kids, cooking/baking food together, watching reality TV
💜 (Tbh there's probably some trollverse version of The Bachelor/Bachelorett and lemme tell you that these two EAT THAT SHIT UP)
🧡 Of course if you wanna go out somewhere fancy then no worries!! Your girl Brandi knows the downlow on all the hottest spots in town and Bruce likely has enough connections to get you three reservations at even the fanciest restaurants
💜 Simply ask and these two will find a way to get it done <33
🧡 LOTS OF FAMILY OUTINGS WITH THE VACAY LOVERS HOUSEHOLD!!!
💜 At some point in the relationship Bruce will approach you and go "Hey, our son Benni has a dance recital tomorrow, did you wanna come?" and the second you say yes is the second you offically become a permanent member of the family. You are joining their monthly family camping trips. You are helping Brandi make cupcakes for school soccer games. You and Bruce are sitting down with the kids for homework help
🧡 Hopefully you've got good memory cuz you're gonna need to memorize 13 different fast food orders whenever the kids drag you to Bergen King askdhalslk
💜 Speaking of the little shits
🧡 You thought you were spending a lot of time with them BEFORE you were smoochin their parents?? Well congrats because the second you start becoming a permanent member at the dinner table, expect to have all 13 of them constantly hanging off you
💜 Maybe one of them needs your help practicing a new move they've learned from their martial arts class, maybe another wants someone to listen as they info dump about their latest hyperfixation, or maybe they just need help kickstarting their underground fireworks selling business
🧡 Cough cough (Bruce Jr) cough cough
ASJKJDHALJSKD THIS WAS SO MUCH FUN, I LOVE THESE TWO SO MUCH!! There were a for more headcanons i wanted to touch upon but the post was getting long lol. Definitely plan on doing more for them tho so no worries uwu
but i mean like if you guys got prompts/questions then go ahead, my asks are open 👀👉👈
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gotham-daydreams · 7 months
Note
How would the yan batfam celebrate reader's birthday after they got them back?
Well, it can go a few ways, but I'll try to keep it short and simple for now!
First, the family will 100% fight over if they should throw a party now or actually wait until your birthday, because they definitely don't want to try and make up for all the one's they've missed, along with some other occasions that they absolutely want to celebrate with you.
It's a real mess, but what could one really expect from such a dysfunctional family? Though no matter what they settle on, it really depends on how long you've been with them.
If you've just 'gotten back' then it's probably something small, as they don't want to overwhelm you and want this to be another piece that eases you into your new way or life. Yet it definitely seems like some didn't get the memo as you are overflowed with gifts. You don't understand how they picked half of this stuff out, let alone why they bought it for you, but that's probably because they're guilt got to them and suddenly they had five times the amount of gifts they were originally going to get you. If the amount of gifts in the room pisses you off or you generally have a negative reaction to it, no one will let you go into the hall for a good portion of that day.
Besides that, you get some breakfast in bed, and maybe even lunch too if you didn't like the gifts- but expect a family dinner at the end of the day. They'll find ways to spend time with you, and most of the activities are either games that require multiple people, or the others will just... watch. Which may not have been so bad if you were in this particular situation.
Overall, while it is a little toned down they do still find ways to 'sneak' themselves into your birthday, and try to have fun all throughout the day. Though if you want to keep things more lowkey, then that's fine! But you'll still have to deal with them hanging around. You won't get a single moment to yourself.
If you've been 'staying' for a while, then they go all out and have the biggest celebration they can without any outside eyes peeking in. It may not be necessarily loud or anything but it's... a lot.
The moment you wake up (to which, you're most likely woken up by someone), your dragged out of bed and just about everyone is up and about like it's Christmas (and maybe it is, but I digress). Every meal of the day feels like some kind of feast, and they aren't trying to even hide the amount of gifts they've gotten you, which somehow all pertain to your interests one way or another. If anyone gets the same thing then you get to see a bit of a fight- so at least there's that, but unfortunately it's unlikely to last very long as everyone wants today to be a good day for you (and a great day for them).
Every activity/game is a family activity or deals with multiple players. They all take turns if there isn't enough for all of them to play with you all at once, but they work around it one way or another. If you want things to tone down, then you're either stuck watching a movie with everyone, or in a cuddle pile with most of the Batkids. If you couldn't get rid of them before- you absolutely cannot now. They make it near impossible to do so.
If you'd like to keep up your tradition with Alfred and bake with him, then you're more than welcome to!
If you 'just arrived' then you may be able to bake with Alfred in peace, minus the new observers that are a little too keen on watching you, and all too eager to taste test what you and Alfred end up making.
If you've been there for a while, then the family will try to turn the tradition from just you and Alfred, to you and the whole family. Even if it means turning the whole things into a game of some kind, or using other methods to get you to bake with them, they'll find a way to change it eventually... unless Alfred gets in the way of things. Though sometimes he may get sick and can't help you with the rest of the Batfam :[[
All in all, it's a mess! Who could've guessed? Ah, but really, it goes just about as well as you'd think. Very overwhelming and them justing to shove and further include themselves into your life by using your birthday to enhance that force. If you've just arrived, the force is lighter, and if not? It's heavier. Much, much heaver.
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wanderingelvis · 19 days
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hi!! so my birthday is tomorrow or the 27th of february and i was wondering if you could do an Elvis imagine and the Memphis Mafia throwing her a surprise birthday party? of course no rush or pressure i hope you have a wonder day ! - 🦢
headcanons for a birthday at graceland with elvis and the mafia 🎂🥂 (kinda possessive elvis!) 🧚🏻 Masterlist 🧚🏻
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birthday's are special at graceland.
and yours, is no exception.
see, elvis spoils you every day, he showers you with affection and gifts that it's often overwhelming but you love feeling loved and you love soaking in the feeling.
but today, on your birthday, well, that's when elvis' generosity goes into overdrive.
he's like the captain of a ship, ordering the memphis mafia to do various tasks that will make your birthday extra special.
usually, jerry's scanning crowds making sure no-one is going to attack elvis but today he's blowing up pink balloons to decorate the interior of graceland with.
and of course he doesn't mind, he loves you as much as elvis does.
they all do in fact, jerry, sonny, red, charlie, lemar, you've got a hold on all of their hearts.
it's how sweet you are, even when they've had an intense and rough day, you'll be the sunshine that they crave.
like when jerry got in a scuffle with some guys trying to get too close to elvis and he cut his knuckles pretty damn bad, you sat by his feet, tending to the wound with a warm damp rag and clean bandages, trying to tell him jokes that maybe weren't all that funny, but when you said them, well then jerry had to laugh.
you're like a tonic.
and god, you were intoxicating.
so when it's your birthday, the entire memphis mafia ensure they're pulling out all the stops.
when elvis wakes you up, you're an adorable sight to see, your hair is slightly strewn and you blink several times before the realisation hits that it's your birthday, and suddenly, it's like you're a bush-baby, and the excitement begins to build.
"happy birthday, kid." elvis says, kissing your forehead as you gaze up at him from your shared bed, the kiss eliciting a soft giggle from you that practically melts elvis' heart.
even though you're still a little sleepy, elvis leads you out of the bedroom, your small hand in his larger, more calloused one.
and you practically jump out of your skin when a chorus of "surprise!" and "happy birthday!" roars around the living room, all of the men of the mafia, watching as elvis leads you to them.
of course, it's then that the stage fright hits, and your nerves bundle up inside you, the attention on you causing you to turn and bury your face into elvis' chest.
as if he's your comfort blanket.
but this only elicits another chorus of sound, but this time laughter, and 'aww's' from the men, cooing at just how sweet you are.
"think someone's got a lil' bit shy!" elvis chuckles, wrapping his arms around you, rubbing soothing circles into your back before leaning down his head to check on you.
"y'okay bunny? it's just the guys, they wanna celebrate y'big day with you baby, see," elvis coos at you, coaxing you into peeking at everyone as he points to the pink balloons over the archways. "jer got up extra early this mornin' to blow them balloons for you baby." elvis tells you and you start blushing, that feeling of feeling loved swelling inside of you.
it's already too much for a little thing like you to handle, and you've only been awake for 20 minutes.
once the stage fright is shaken off, elvis keeps a hold of your hand, leading you through the dining room and the living room, letting you see all of the pretty decorations that he and the memphis mafia have done for you, from balloons, to ribbons, to birthday breakfast pancakes.
and being the good girl you are, you give every one of the big, old men a cuddle, thanking them for making your birthday so special.
and even though elvis knows your cuddles are harmless, he never lets you out of his sight.
he trusts you, of course he does, and he trusts his men, of course he does, but there's just something so irresistible about you.
he knows his men are loyal but you're so heavenly that he knows you're worth risking everything for.
so he always keeps an eye on you.
because no-one else will ever have you, only him.
so he knows he needs to keep you happy.
and of course, that means presents, and extra special ones as it's your birthday.
and what could be more special than your own little puppy?
when elvis gives you the puppy, you can't help the tears that pool in your big, wide eyes.
"really? for me?" you ask with a slight tremble, you're not really ready to believe that the puppy is all yours.
"all yours baby." elvis smirks, he's proud of himself for the gift.
so there you are, with elvis' kitten with her own little puppy.
elvis and the mafia have invited everyone round for a party to celebrate you and by the time the evening rolls around, it's a full house.
the smell of champagne and cigars fill the rooms as does the sound of laughter and chatter.
and of course, you remember your manners, making sure to say hello to everyone and thank them for coming.
even if you have to go on your tippy-toes to whisper in elvis' ear because you need his help - you can't remember that guests name.
as the party continues and elvis is showcasing his new gun collection to sonny and charlie, the two men puffing on cigars, you're sat on the fluffy white carpet, by elvis' feet, your sole attention focused on your new puppy, who you're affectionately playing with.
elvis' talk of guns being interrupted with your sweet giggles at your puppy.
but it's not long before the staff come round with more glasses of champagne for everyone and you can't help yourself, you just want to have a little bit more.
only a little.
so you tap on elvis' trouser leg, catching his attention as he leans down to where you are on the floor beside him.
"please may i have a glass of champagne?" you ask softly and you know the look that he gives you all too well.
"just one more." elvis tells you with that coy look on his face. "can't have my baby being sick on her birthday now, can i?" elvis chuckles and you reciprocate, taking the glass that the staff hands you after elvis nods at them to confirm it's okay to give you one.
you love how elvis looks after you and knows what's best for you.
but the excitement of your birthday is quick to take it's toll, and it's not long until your head is firmly led on elvis' lap with your eyes closed.
elvis' lap is a good enough substitute for your bed, you think.
but obviously, elvis disagrees, and after about fifteen minutes of stroking your hair as you rest your head in his lap and lay on the couch by him, he decides it's time for your bedtime.
"c'mon little one, time to get you to your bed." elvis coos, waking you up ever so that you can say your goodnights and go with elvis to your bedroom.
and it's not before elvis instructs you to say goodnight and thank you to all of the memphis mafia that are sat around you in the living room.
"give the guys a kiss goodnight baby, say thank you fr' makin' y'day so special." elvis chides, patting your butt so prompt you to say your goodnights.
see, elvis is a possessive man, and he knows that his men adore you, and after a few drinks, he can't help but enjoy watching as you innocently go around, placing a kiss on each of the mafia's cheeks, not thinking anything of it, whilst the men won't stop thinking about for the next month, wishing they were as lucky as elvis to have you.
because there's nothing elvis loves more than having something that everyone else wants but can't have.
and for him, that's you.
because now, he gets to take you upstairs, undress you, kiss you up and down your body, taste you, fuck you.
and the mafia will still be thinking about that kiss on the cheek.
but all you feel is loved, and you love feeling loved.
and elvis loves you better than anyone.
and that's why birthday's at graceland are so special.
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omgthatdress · 9 months
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Barbie made her debut in 1959. The way she was sold then is a little different than the way she's sold now. These days, individual Barbies come with their own unique looks & usually some kind of unique function or accessories. You can buy clothes separately, but those looks are still secondary to the expectation of buying a lot of Barbies. Back in the day, you bought the one Barbie and then bought her clothes separately. This is why back then Barbie came with a bunch of friends and always came wearing a swimsuit.
The oft-memed origin story for the classic Barbie is that she was modeled on a German sex doll named Lili, which is only partially true. In the 50s, most dolls available for girls were baby dolls that primed girls for being a wife and mother. Fashion dolls were a thing but they were generally more reserved for adults.
Ruth Handler, who co-founded Mattel with her husband and served as its president from 1945-1973 (#girlboss much?), got the idea of making an adult doll for girls when she'd see her daughters playing with paper dolls. Instead of playing with babies, they chose teen-aged and adult paper dolls and played fantasized versions of adulthood. Then, on a trip to Germany, Ruth saw a Lili doll in a store, and asked her daughters what they'd think of playing with a doll like that. Apparently, they liked the idea.
Lili the doll wasn't an inflatable fuck doll. She was based on a popular comic strip character Lili created by Reinhard Beuthien and published in the Hamburg-based Bild Zeitung. Lili was a buxom gold-digger seducing her way through the wealthy men of post-war West Germany.
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The comic was definitely adult-oriented, and the doll it created was a popular bachelor party gag gift.
The introduction of a doll with breasts did cause *some* controversy, but it was more pearl-clutching rather than tremendous cultural outrage. Barbie was actually an immediate hit. She fit in very well to late 50s ideals of femininity. I've heard it said before that parents liked her because she helped little girls get into the beauty, fashion, and level of grooming that she would need to catch a husband. IDK if that was intentional, but it seems to fit very well.
I don't want to get into whether or not Barbie is this huge feminist icon or not because, well, she's a toy. I think Ruth Handler was an incredibly smart businesswoman who saw a market demand and met it. Barbie is about the power of fantasy and imagination, and anything that people see in her are the things they want to see in her.
In her incredible multitude of careers, she also holds up an impossible and toxic standard of beauty. Mattel has always been very aware of Barbie's image. I'm pretty sure that the reason Mattel hated "Barbie Girl" so much wasn't because it was wink-wink sexual, but because it nailed the popular stereotype of the time that Barbie was this fake, plastic bimbo who was an unhealthy role model for girls (go listen to Aquarium, now!).
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The recent years of Barbie taking on a more empowering, feminist, and diverse lean is because Mattel is simply correcting course and keeping up with the times. Honestly, they've done a very good job of it, but I'm not going to kid myself into thinking they're doing anything other than maximizing profits.
I love me some Barbie but I was always an AG girl, ngl. However, I think Barbie and her cultural context are still incredibly fascinating and worth taking a look at.
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archangeldyke-all · 9 days
Note
Omg I loved the cellmate reader! But imagine if reader broke Sevika outta jail. Like she’s all cool about and when she walks up to Sevikas cell she’s got her hair up in her hat and sevika can’t see who she is until she tilts her head up grinning at her wife.
Sevika is so shocked to see her housewife breaking her outta jail like. The whole way back to Zain Sevika can’t keep her hands to herself, thanking her wife over and over and saying how much she’s gonna reward her for saving her *wink wink*
LOVE
men and minors dni
"this just feels wrong." you mutter as you check yourself out in the mirror. ran chuckles beside you, tugging their skirt farther down their waist.
"fuckin' tell me about it." they grumble.
they look ridiculous. their bangs are pinned back, their eyes have been washed clean of eyeliner-- they really do look like a cop. "the things i do for her." you grumble. ran giggles again.
"wasn't this in your vows? 'for better or worse, in sickness and health, i vow to love you and break you outta prison if you need?'" they tease. you giggle.
"close enough."
you're both dressed as enforcers-- the uniforms are authentic-- stolen from some dead cops.
four years after you first landed yourself in stillwater-- you're going back. this time, you aren't a prisioner, though. and, despite your current outfit, you haven't gotten a new job as a prison guard.
you're going back for sevika.
she took the charges for silco when he got caught up in piltover, and as a result, she's currently in maximum security.
it's been four months since you've seen your wife. and despite the fact that you keep your nose strictly out of silco and sevika's business-- these past four months you've been at the last drop every single night, studying stillwater blue prints and plotting with ran and silco and lock.
it all passes in a blur for you. you're so nervous, and so excited to see your girl, that you don't register much as you make your way to stillwater.
ran does most of the talking. there's not much talking to be done-- the uniforms and badges you're wearing get you in the gates surprisingly easily-- but you're too jittery to do much more than stutter. so ran does most the talking.
you keep your hand on the switchblade tucked into the waist of your enforcer skirt. sevika gifted it to you on your first real date, and she's been teaching you how to defend yourself with it ever since. you've never had to use it, mostly because everyone in the undercity knows you're sevika's, but you won't hesitate to use it now to get to her.
the familiar atmosphere of the prison is comforting, in a strange way. it's where you met sevika, where you got to know her, where you both fell for one another.
and now it's where you're going to reunite again.
the deeper underground you get, the fewer prisoners and the more guards there are. you're starting to get antsy. ran elbows you.
"relax." they grumble. you gulp.
"don't tell me to relax, it' been four fucking months since--"
"oh my god, i know." ran groans. you sigh.
"sorry. i miss her." you mumble. ran chuckles.
"not as much as she misses you." they say. you huff a bit.
despite the rough start to you and ran's friendship-- with you stabbing them the last time they were breaking sevika out of prison-- they've become a good friend of yours. especially since they're the one who's always helping you get sevika out of trouble.
they're also the one who agreed to let you come along tonight. it was meant to be ran and lock, with you as the getaway driver, but you begged to go in. you want to see her as soon as you fucking can.
and then: ran pulls you to a stop.
"prisoner." they mumble, a smile in their voice as they tap their metal fingers against the bars of a cell. your stomach bursts into butterflies when you see the signature flicker of sevika's lighter in the dark cell. you can see her smirk in the brief light, and you nearly burst into tears.
the ring of keys on ran's hip jingles as they pull them off and unlock sevika's cell. you don't hesitate to slam the door open and start sprinting into the cell.
it's the wrong move. sevika's expecting ran and lock, not ran and you: and in the dark, she assumes you're lunging at her to attack her. "wait!" ran calls after you, too late.
a crack rings out in the cell, followed by a groan: sevika socked you right in the nose. "ffffffuck, babe!" you whine, grabbing your nose.
sevika gasps in the dark. then, strong arms are hugging you and you're being pushed out into the hallway-- into the light.
"what the fuck are you doing here?!" sevika cries.
"i--" she doesn't let you answer, shoving her mouth against yours as she backs you up against the concrete wall oppisite her cell.
you moan into her mouth, your nose throbbing in pain, your cunt throbbing in arousal.
her hands trail down to your ass, then sneak up your skirt to start palming your cunt. you whimper, and she growls.
ran clears their throat.
you pull your mouth away from sevika with a gasp, but she doesn't seem to have heard ran-- her mouth ducking down to start sucking hickeys on your neck. she starts grinding the palm of her hand against your wet cunt, and you gasp-- pulling her hair hard. sevika mewls.
"janna, i shoulda brought a spray bottle." ran mumbles.
"s-sev, baby, we gotta go." you whisper, your voice shaking when she sinks her teeth into your neck. she licks the indents her teeth left behind, then stands to her full height, removes her hands from your skirt.
you cuff her wrists, then hook your arm around her elbow, guiding her down the hall as ran leads the two of you.
you've got five minutes before the real guards do their rounds and stillwater goes on lockdown when they realize sevika's missing.
ran's the only one who seems to care about this time crunch. sevika keeps shoving you against walls, grabbing your tits biting your lips, fighting against her handcuffs as she tries to grip your hips.
you let her, each and every time.
a guard stops the three of you. "fuck happened to you?" he asks you, looking you over.
your skirt's rumpled, your shirt's untucked and unbuttoned, and your enforcer hat's been knocked off and lost. all sevika's doing.
you cringe, suddenly nervous. ran just scoffs as the cut in to cover for you.
"the prisoner here got the jump on this rookie." ran explains. "broke the poor kid's nose." they gesture to your bleeding nose. you nod.
"fuckin' asshole." you mumble, trying to hold your smile back as you nudge sevika like you're angry.
she stumbles and giggles. it comes off as a defiant laugh in the face of authority to the guard. to you, you know she's fucking giddy.
he waves the three of you along.
the second you're in the van with sevika, she's on you.
lock starts the car and starts driving off, ran in the passenger seat laughing in glee at once again flawlessly slipping through stillwater's 'impenetrable' security system, and sevika throws herself at you in the back before you can even unlock her cuffs.
"sev!" you laugh. she's practically dry humping you, kissing any part of you she can reach. she hums.
"fuck-- you're the hottest enforcer i've ever seen." she mumbles. "i'm so fuckin' sorry about your nose, baby--" you cut her off by pressing your mouth against hers again.
"no fucking in the van." lock says.
you flip him off, before fumbling for the key to sevika's handcuffs.
the second one of her hands is free, she doesn't bother letting you free the other. she just lets the cuffs dangle off her mech wrist like a tacky bracelet, as she wraps her arms around you pulling you impossibly closer to her.
"i missed you so fucking much." you whimper, on the verge of tears.
sevika smells like shit. she probably hasn't showered in a week. in solitary, you don't even get a mattress-- just two blankets to lay on the ground. she's sore and grimy and she's been sitting in a dark room for weeks on end-- you planned for your first time together again to be after soaking her in a long, fragrant bath, given her at least an hour long massage, and gotten her in your freshly made bed.
it seems like that might have to be your second time.
sevika's between your legs-- both of which are hooked over her waist-- your skirt is around your waist and your hands are tugging her pants down as she grinds pathetic circles against your cunt.
"oh, fuck, i missed you too." she whines. "i love you so fuckin' much, i'm gonna put a fuckin baby in you, i missed your cunt so mu--"
"woah!" ran cries. "please! we're two minutes away from the last dro--"
"take me home." sevika growls.
ran scoffs-- "sevika, silco wants to see--"
"i'll see 'im tomorrow. or he can come over in a few hours. take me the fuck home." she demands. you giggle, using her distraction to uncuff her other wrist.
she smiles down at you when lock starts the van in the direction of your shared home.
the two of you stumble out in front of your home a minute later, lock screaming something about silco coming over in a bit behind the two of you.
neither of you notice.
you stumble into your home, attached at the lips. sevika's hands are flying up and down your body, groping your ass, thighs, hips, tits, all in quick succession. she growls as you guide her to the bedroom. "been thinkin' about you every fuckin' second since they locked me up." she mumbles. you whimper. "prison's no fun without you there."
you chuckle against her lips, stripping her of her prison uniform. you're gonna burn the clothes the second you're done with her.
you push her down-- she spreads out starfished and naked on the bed, groaning as she relaxes against the mattress.
"fuck." she moans.
you smile down at her, straddling her waist and stroking her cheek. she nuzzles against your palm.
"i missed you so much." you whisper. "i love you so much. you're the most precious thing in the world, baby."
sevika whimpers, and then, before you know what's happening, she's flipping you and pinning you beneath her.
she starts grinding against you again, but this time, both of you are naked. you groan as your cunts slide together and sevika whimpers, burying her face in your neck as she cries and fucks you.
you don't mention the tears soaking your neck. you just wrap yourself around your wife, pressing kisses anywhere you can reach as she fucks you.
"you're okay baby." you whisper, scratching against her scalp. "you're okay. 'm right here, 'm not goin' anywhere. i'll always come 'n find you sev, y' can't get rid of me that easy." you promise her.
she whimpers. "'m gonna cum."
you shiver at her words-- fuck you've missed her.
"fuck, fuck, please, sev, please, i've missed you, i've missed you, honey." you whisper. "i wanna make you feel good-- wanna make you cum-- you waited so fuckin' long all alone and--"
"but you're here now." she whispers. you moan, cumming at the reminder, and the sight of it pushes her over the edge. "baby fuck!" she cries, burying her face against your neck as she cums.
you're both shaking and crying, panting for air, soaked in sweat and cum, and laughing.
"shit." sevika sighs, nuzzling against you. you hum. "think i jerked off, like, a billion times imagining that." she mumbles. you burst into laughter. "nowhere near as good as the real fuckin' thing though." she sighs.
you kiss the goofy smile off her face. "wish i coulda snuck you some nudies or somethin'." you mumble. she snorts.
"nearly came in my pants when i realized it was you showin' off your legs in that slutty uniform."
"after you nearly shit in your pants when you realized it was me you just punched?" you ask. sevika giggles, gently kissing your swollen nose.
"simultaneously, actually. weirdest sensation of my life." she jokes. you burst into laughter.
"i love you!" you giggle. she smiles.
"i love you too."
"if you get off of me i'll draw you a bath." you offer.
"do i smell that bad?"
"yes."
she bites your shoulder and you squeak. "will you join me?"
"yes." you say.
you can feel her smile against your shoulder.
"i'm gonna marry you all over again." she mumbles.
taglist!
@fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @vikasub
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sweetheartmotives · 8 months
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`; 三 Clumsy Yandere;`三
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Desc and possible Tw: Yandere themes, sexual themes, kidnapping, crying (from clumsy yan), begging (from clumsy yan), clumsiness/falling, angst. BIG angst!
Let me know if I missed any!
The weather was warm and the time was 2pm. You were out with some friends/family at a pizza shop and a family member/friend decided that you should come! You were on your way back to your and your family/friends' private room, until you saw someone fall, and to make it worse, they had a drink and it spilled everywhere. You decided to help them out! You walked over and he was already scrambling to grab some napkins and clean it up, you came over and helped him. He cried and thanked you. After that day, you earned yourself a stalker.
•• Clumsy Yandere who… you met in a very pathetic way. Soda all over the floor and you both on your hands and knees cleaning it up.
•• Clumsy Yandere who… is actually a loser. He doesn't go out unless he's forced to. This was one of his many embarrassing moments. But unlike the others, this one had a good outcome!
•• Clumsy Yandere who… waited for you to leave. It was dark outside, so following you wasn't gonna be hard.
•• Clumsy Yandere who… was horribly nervous when he followed you. If you turned around, he'd probably cry!
•• Clumsy Yandere who… follows you home and gets your address. Then he runs away..?
•• Clumsy Yandere who… gets your number, socials, etc. He spends the whole night searching for you on the Internet.
He got ur number thru ur address.. don't ask how
•• Clumsy Yandere who… jerked it to your pics. If you don't have any on social media, he probably took one 78 while stalking you.
Onto the genre stuff! :]
•• Clumsy Yandere who… drools over you. He can't get enough of you, so don't mind the drool dripping down his chin!
Casually drooling over you
•• Clumsy Yandere who… cries when you are loud. When they first took you down to their basement, you cried/yelled. They began to panic and cry.
PLEASE STOP He sobs
•• Clumsy Yandere who… is hopeless. They cry and beg for your forgiveness.. What can you ask? Anything!
M'sorry! I'm so sorry! Please forgive meeeee!! He whined and cried.
•• Clumsy Yandere who… created a playlist for you. They like romantic gestures! (◍•ᴗ•◍)♡
•• Clumsy Yandere who… does whatever you like. Wanna crochet or play video games? They're down!
Oh? Uh.. yea we can!
•• Clumsy Yandere who… was shy about sex at first.. but then humped your leg and cried about how much they loved you.
Mmm..~ ahhh~ I love you.. love u so much..
•• Clumsy Yandere who… likes to paint! They've painted portraits of you and gifted them to you.
Ah.. my love.. look what I made for you..! He hands a nude painting of you to you.
•• Clumsy Yandere who… does whatever you want. And he doesn't whine or cry! Pretty great, right?? :3
Of course my love..
•• Clumsy Yandere who… is a crybaby. He's also a really nervous/anxious person!
•• Clumsy Yandere who… has a resting sad face and always looks like he's gonna start crying :(
•• Clumsy Yandere who… owns 3 cats! Tax Fraud, eepy, and coco ♡
•• Clumsy Yandere who… is a loser. A very pathetic loser. No further explanation.
•• Clumsy Yandere who… always trips over his own feet. At any time in the day, he trips. Does he cry every time? Nope, but he's always close to tears and he'll be horribly embarrassed.
•• Clumsy Yandere who… gives kisses anytime of the day. Sure he's super shy, but that doesn't stop him from giving kisses! :)
Mwah mwah mwah (〃ω〃)
•• Clumsy Yandere who… lets Stockholm syndrome do its thing. Until then, he'll shower you with praise and love!
•• Clumsy Yandere who… knew it was wrong to kidnap you, but.. is it bad to be a little selfish?..
I'm sorry my love.. I just really wanted to be with you..!
•• Clumsy Yandere who… if you're really suffering while being with him and Stockholm syndrome doesn't work.. he'll let you go. He can't stand seeing you upset.
Goodbye.. my love.
•• Clumsy Yandere who… in the end, will always love you, even if you leave him.
My love.. I'll love you no matter what.. even if you hate me. My love will never stop..
This is a bit of a long wait! But I hope you enjoyed it as I enjoyed writing it! (◍•ᴗ•◍)♡
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