god these are so bad i'm so sorry

7

I’m meeting D&P tomorrow and I still can’t believe that it’s really happening!! Wish me luck guys ‘cause I’m about to die.  (☞゚∀゚)☞

I made a couple of things for Dan & Phil w/ my twin sister @marketakindlova which you can see in the pictures above (sorry for the bad lightning >.<). We printed out our fanarts (I haven’t posted some of them yet!), made an “award” for the crafty corner and created the frame thingy and keychains/charms for them as well.^^ We are giving them also a plushie and Czech spa hazelnut wafers haha.

I’m so so excited!! I’m leaving for Berlin literally in like two hours! If you are going too, you can come and say hi to me! :)) <3

The FAHC hear about Dan long before they meet him. Gavin rarely speaks about England, deflects questions of his past with practised ease, but what stories he does share are invariable entwined with Dan. The best friend from back home, childhood guardian, family of choice. Quite literal partner in crime.

The way Gavin tells it he and Dan had each other and little need for anyone else; a perfect partnership that carried them from childhood mishaps to petty crimes to full scale felonies. The story is never really told in full but it doesn’t take a genius to piece together that the two grew a little too adventurous for their own good, a little too cocky and sure of of their abilities, and someone took notice. Things got too dangerous so Dan signed up and shipped out and Gavin went remote; moving most of his dealings online, where he eventually caught Burnie’s eye, moved to the US and made his mark in Los Santos. It’s a simple enough conclusion if not a particularly glamorous one, and Gavin is still in regular contact with his old friend, occasionally sharing various updates with them all.

They know Dan’s ex-military, know he’s apparently an establish mercenary these days with a reputation of his own, but all this knowledge is hard to take seriously when it’s filtered through Gavin’s stories of loveable, puppyish best buddy Dan. The man who always followed Gavin’s lead without question, who’s never really been the brains but has always had Gavin’s back, who has Gavin chattering away on the phone at top speed, accent thick and unintelligible with a strong undercurrent of affection.

It’s hard not to feel some amusement when Gavin tells them all about Dan’s latest adventures, the wacky disasters and embellished-sounding achievements; it’s not that they think it’s a lie, exactly, but everyone knows how easy it is to be blinded by adoration and warm nostalgia, and by now they’ve all got a certain kind of image in their minds. Dependable sidekick Dan, friendly backup muscle Dan, maybe we should make sure someone over there is looking out for him Dan.

So when Gavin announces that Dan is finally visiting, buzzing about the penthouse like a hummingbird on speed, it really doesn’t cross anyone’s mind to be in any way concerned. To be anything other than mildly pleased at the chance to finally put a face to the name. Whenever Gavin spoke of him he’s been Dan or B or, when Gavin is particularly snippy, Daniel. Gavin’s never offered a last name and no one has ever pushed for one; other than the offer to keep an eye on the man, which Gavin laughed off, there’s really been no need.

An oversight Geoff quickly comes to regret when the man who turns up is definitely not what they were expecting. He’s got a nice face, sure, all smiles and laugh lines, no doubt flirting up a storm with every pretty girl he sees, but he’s physically intimidating, as tall and broad as Ryan, comparatively enormous when he squeezes Gavin into a bear hug. Anyone who’s looking can see all the tells of a very dangerous man, and Geoff is never not looking. He’s not the only one, Jack’s spine snapping ramrod straight while Michael and Jeremy hover closer to Gavin than strictly necessary, Ryan tensing in a flash of recognition that has him muttering a name at the same time as Dan introduces himself.

Not for one moment had anyone considered the possibility that Gavin’s Dan might turn out to be be Daniel Gruchy, the only known half of the SMG, the UK’s infamously untouchable fixer crew; known as much for their secrecy as for their skills in everything from the acquisition of delicate information to the acquirement of misplaced items and individuals.

Geoff is pretty sure there are some unsubstantiated rumours suggesting the crew has connections to a few of Europe’s more influential disappearances but he doesn’t know, had never really looked into it – wouldn’t have even known about SMG at all if not for the necessity of monitoring the balance of powers anywhere he does business. He hadn’t thought it was something the FAHC would ever have to worry about. Doesn’t rightfully know if they have to worry about it now, with an unknown mercenary in his hallway and his oblivious, emotionally-compromised frontman bouncing about half incoherent with excitement.

That is until Gavin pauses to take a breath, catches sight of Geoff’s shocked expression, and grins, sharp, smug and utterly vindictive. Of course. Of course Gavin is not only fully aware of what his friend does for a living but has intentionally withheld that information to leave the crew blindsided by the realisation. Chances are he knows exactly what kind of unflattering assumptions they’ve all been making about Dan’s character and this is merely his usual underhanded flavour of revenge. Perfect.

A battered duffle-bag is abandoned near the front door as Gavin drags them all into the living room, shoving Dan onto a couch and flopping down next to him, bossily poking and prodding in a way that really doesn’t seem advisable, if not for the easy familiarity between the two. Because even seated and exuding exhaustion Dan carries that familiar air of danger, coiled strength and resting violence, relaxed but carefully alert in the same way Ryan is never really shut down. The same way any predator is always watching for potential threats, yet there he sits, almost comically placid as he complies with Gavin’s every whim, and in an instant something clicks in Geoff’s mind.

Michael and Jeremy have already succumbed to temptation, eagerly pressing Dan for mortifying stories of Gavin’s youth, but if Ryan’s huff of surprise and Jack’s quiet little ‘huh’ are anything to go by then the Gent’s appear to be as in sync as always. A silent exchange of looks is enough to reach an agreement, raucous laughter and squawking protest following them down the hall as they slip into the privacy of Geoff’s office, Jack immediately grabbing the laptop while Geoff and Ryan get on their phones, each reaching out to any and all contacts they have across the pond as they try to work out what the fuck is happening.

Because Dan is the more recognisable face of the SMG, yes, but everyone knows he has a partner, the strategist to his raw strength; the mercenary and the mastermind. The few claimed descriptions of the unknown man vary so widely it’s clear there is some kind of body double nonsense at play but the few that match up ring more than enough bells to confirm their suspicions; lean, chatty, fastidiously put-together and smooth enough to out-charm the devil.

Honestly it’s not like it was any great secret that Gavin had some serious extra income, nor had they missed the way he occasionally spent his free time hunched over a computer, hard at work on something entirely unrelated to the FAHC, but no one had imagined anything quite on this scale. Had never considered that Gavin and Dan could have totally unrelated, equally time-consuming lives on different continents without ever disbanding their original crew. And there is a crew, a close-knit collection of trusted friends recruited to carry out the majority of the necessary physical aspects of the work, whose loyalty is only further affirmed by their hefty paycheques. They fill in for Gavin and Dan to keep the crew running day-to-day, maintaining the mystique of the unstoppable duo, keeping themselves nameless to flit about unseen and undisturbed; the phantoms of the SMG.

It’s absolutely ridiculous but the mounting evidence is undeniable. For all the faces Gavin wears for the FAHC it seems he has more still kept seperate, another slew of facets reserved for another life. An entire empire they’d known nothing about.  

Back in the living room and Gavin is still lamenting his choice in friends, Michael is distributing beers, Jeremy’s pulling out the Xbox and Dan is looking right back at Geoff. One eyebrow raised, a half-familiar smirk tugging at his lips and Gavin tucked comfortably close underneath his arm; it’s not a challenge, exactly, but it’s definitely a statement. Recognition that he knows that Geoff knows and is no less blatantly amused by the stir he’s caused than Gavin was before him.

It’s blindingly clear he is really not the idiot they had imagined, and honestly Geoff should have known better, they all should have known better. Should have remembered that Gavin could be the brains in just about any operation, that recognising his absurd brilliance was more a sign of intelligence than it was a display of stupidity. After all, there’s nothing at all stupid about the way the SMG has been managed, not when every contact has the same things to say about them: they’re discreet, they’re efficient, they’re consummate professionals, and if you cross them they will ruin you.

The SMG have a clear policy – all clients are vetted before a job is taken, once the job is taken it will be completed in full, all sensitive material remains confidential, and if any client attempts to deviate, deceive or in any way undermine the agreement the penalties will be swift, and they will be severe.

It’s a carefully cultivated reputation establishing the SMG firmly in the grey, the Switzerland of gang-warfare; taking jobs from whomever they please without repercussion for taking sides, simultaneously loyal to all and none of their clients. An inbuilt safety net, subtly ensuring that any possible threat their considerable skills can’t handle alone will likely be taken care of by a veritable army of regular employers with a vested interest in their continued ability to work.  It’s fucking genius, really.

More compelling still is the unavoidable implications of their line of work - the unspoken fallback plan of their insurmountable mountain of blackmail material. Violence, fear, that’s leverage in any timezone, but knowledge? Secrets and scandals and the kind of information that makes and breaks empires? That’s true power, and the SMG have been collecting it for years.

Small Lilo comfort fic, because I felt like shit on Sunday and needed a pick-me-up. Tour era (whichever tour you like best).


Louis doesn’t open his eyes when the bed sheets he’s made himself a cocoon of are pulled away and someone awkwardly slips into his bunk, although he does uncurl his body, making more room for the intruder to squeeze themselves into. His head won’t stop pounding.

“Hey,” Liam whispers, gently stroking Louis’s temple and jaw - to think a couple years back he flinched anytime someone touched him; Louis would grin, if everything didn’t hurt. “Was wondering where you’d gone.”

“Headache,” is all Louis says. Liam’s clothes are crispy cold from his trek outside and Louis presses his face against Liam’s chest with a sigh; the coolness is wonderful against his forehead.

He grunts when Liam shifts away from him, wrapping an arm around his waist just in case Liam’s got delusions about leaving, but all Liam does is press his cold cold lips against Louis’s forehead, right in the middle of his eyebrows, and that feels even better than his sweater did.

Keep reading

“Your Sister Calls Me Daddy”

voltron drabble, shiro & matt holt, platonic relationships, misunderstandings, space dad, NO shiro/paladins, shiro & pidge (mentioned), humor/crack


Shiro is lucky enough to catch Matt in the hallway. 

“Matt, can I talk to you for a tick?” he calls out. 

“Sure,” Matt says, stepping through the door into Shiro’s room. “What’s up?”

“Your sister calls me daddy,” Shiro blurts out. Then, he freezes. Blood rushes to his face as his ears catch up with his brain. 

Shiro wonders through the mortification if he can blame this on English being a second language. How could he have messed up this badly?  Quiznak, Shiro negotiated a system-wide treaty last week- the same week, in fact, that they rescued Matt and Commander Holt, who hadn’t seen Pidge since she was twelve. This is bad. 

He know his face is red, but he’s sure it’s nothing compared Matt’s. Matt is livid. His face is quickly approaching purple, and Shiro can see a vein in his tightly clenched jaw. 

Unlike his sister, Matt doesn’t have a hope of winning against Shiro in a fight. Matt looks like he’s prepared to die trying anyway and he’s only holding himself back because he trusts that Shiro’s going to explain himself.  

“Shirogane,” Matt growls out like a Galra, and that’s when Shiro realizes that he still hasn’t explained himself

“Fuck!” he says hurriedly. “Fuck,” he groans again, hiding his face in his hands. “I didn’t mean it like that. I meant she calls me dad, they all call me dad.”

He looks up to Matt, who is still holding himself very still. Shiro is reminded of a lion the moment before it springs for the kill.

“Matt,” he supplicates, “please sit down so we can talk about this.” 

Matt stiffly takes the chair by Shiro’s desk. Shiro sinks down on his bed. He clasps his hands, bracing his forearms against his knees, and takes a breath. He takes a moment try to calm his racing heart and find the words to fix this mess.

“I came up here with four homesick teenage rookie pilots,” he starts. He wonders if that’s adequate to explain how sad and lost they all were at the beginning. 

“Your father used to say that your crew is like your family. I was a mess at the time, to be absolutely honest, but they needed that. Family. It started as a joke, I think. I was just trying get Lance to go to bed, and he looked at me and said ‘Sure thing, Space Dad.’“ Shiro smiles fondly at the memory. “It sort of snowballed from there. Now, they all call me space dad. It’s still a joke, I think, but, I… I just don’t want your father to think that Pidge replaced him with me, or that she forgot you.” 

Matt finally looks like he’s come down from his murderous rage. He laughs. 

“I was going to kill you, Shiro.” 

Shiro chuckles back.  “I know.” 

“Shiro,” Matt says kindly, “you’re our family, too. After we were separated, we were as worried about you as we were about Katie. Dad wouldn’t begrudge you. He’d be as grateful as I am that you were there to look after her.”  

“There’s something else isn’t there,” Matt says. Shiro wonders how Matt knows him so well after two years apart.

“She hasn’t called me dad in two weeks,” he admits. “It’s stupid. I know I’m not your father, but I miss it.” 

Matt moves to sit beside him on the bed. 

“She’ll come around. She’s just trying to merge two families together. You’ll see.” 

Shiro smiles. “When did you get so wise?”

“Shut up, Space Dad,” Matt retorts. 


*Bonus*

“Matt, I would never-”

“I know, Shiro.”

“She’s sixteen! She’s eleven years younger than me! She’s under my command! I’m ace-”

I know, Takashi.” 

swear to god if some 17yr old whose blog is just full of porn makes a post making up some new rules for which members of the lgbtqia community are ALLOWED to self-identify as queer everyone fuckin reblogs it and is like “omg my bad ur so right im sorry for calling myself q*eer when im only a lesbian!” because nobody on this goddamn website can form a complete opinion for themselves

Jealousy

Bad Boy!Woozi x Reader

Genre: ??? 

Word Count: 875

Dt: @leejihoonz this isn’t that great, but hopefully it will satisfy you for now. Also, be prepared for some certain things to come…kekekeke~!

  Red and fuming, Jihoon watches from afar, fists balled and teeth clenched as his eyes focus on the two bodies, close and personal, yet one of them seemingly distance and uncomfortable. Arms shaking, he watches as Seungcheol moves closer to you, pulling one hand leisurely out from his pocket to rest gently on your hip, thumb rubbing against the fabric of your clothes.

  Watching the two, Jihoon wonders many things. He wonders why Seungcheol is hitting on you, wonders why you don’t seem to be pushing him away, wonders why he feels so upset while watching the interaction.

  He reasons with himself that it’s acceptable to feel so angry at Seungcheol. But, although he has never told his friend how he truly feels about you, he assumed that his feelings had been a bit obvious. Maybe his affection for you hadn’t seeped through the cracks of his facade enough to show that he cares for you, because if Seungcheol can’t tell, then you certainly won’t either.

  By now, Jihoon is accustomed to Seungcheol’s flirtatious behavior. After being friends for a certain amount of years, he knows that his friend is the type to toy with the feelings of others—after all, that’s all that people were to him: toys.

   But did he have to toy with you of all people?

   Jihoon thinks that he will be okay. He knows that you don’t always appreciate his erratic and sometimes violent behavior, so he tries his best to contain the beast inside of him, beating and pounding and hammering, demanding to jump out and rip Seungcheol away from you because you’re his and not Seungcheol’s, even if you don’t know it yet.

  Panting and shaking, Jihoon is about to turn around and leave—it’s not like Seungcheol is going to do anything worse to you anyway—until he sees Seungcheol move. He watches Seungcheol place another arm on your hip, bringing his face nearer, shifting his body closer and closer. Jihoon can see the two separate hearts, and as Seungcheol gets closer, he fears that the two hearts will soon merge into one. 

   So, he sprints, fast and furious, grabbing the back of Seungcheol’s shirt and tearing him away from you and the heart that you were dangerously close to giving away.

  Someone gasps—whether it was you or Seungcheol, Jihoon does not care—and he stands in front of you, facing Seungcheol, who is looking at him in shock.

  “What the hell’s your problem?” Seungcheol demands, fist clenched menacingly at his side.

  “You’re my fucking problem!” Jihoon is torn between wanting to shout at Seungcheol and just dragging you away. He chooses the second option when he notices Seungcheol’s eyes flitting towards you.

  Fingers curling around your wrist, Jihoon has a good grip on you as he pulls you away with him. He’s walking fast and doesn’t look like he’s ever going to stop, and you’re worried that he doesn’t even know where he’s going.

  You call out his name, louder and louder each time he doesn’t respond until you finally split the connection between your body and his, pulling your arm away from his grip. Only then does he finally look at you; finally looks into your eyes and sees your look of mixed confusion.

  “What was that?” you ask, voice spilling over your parted lips.

 “That fucking creep was hitting on you!” he yells. Jihoon tries to calm himself down, but every time he thinks back to the way Seungcheol was holding your body close to his, he can only clench his fists and wonder if he should go back there and make sure Seungcheol never sets foot near you again.

  “That was your friend!” You stress the word as if it’s vital to his understanding; vital to him realizing how absurd his crazy behavior is.

  “Friends don’t flirt with other friend’s friends!” The wording of his sentence has you confused, and you spend a good few seconds trying to completely understand it while Jihoon uses the time to try and see if he can calm down. He can’t.

  “What?” is the only word that you can manage to figure out. You understand the sentence now, you understand it clearly, but you don’t understand the meaning behind it. The tone, the sharpness in his voice, it confuses you.

  Groaning, Jihoon runs a hand through his hair before dragging it down his skin, pulling the purple sunsets under his eyes—which you now only notice and suspect he’s been staying up late again—downward. You repeat your simple, one-word question, only to get the same response with the same hair ruffling, and the same pulling of his tired skin.

  “Stay away from Seungcheol,” Jihoon grits through his teeth.

  “What?”

  “Please, just stay away from Seungcheol.”

  “Why?”

  Because he’s a major flirt. Because he’s a handsome captain of the basketball team and Jihoon isn’t sure if he can compete with Seungcheol at all.

  “Please,” Jihoon says, voice fragile and shaky. It’s the first time you’ve heard him sound so vulnerable. You’ve never heard him plead and beg for something ever. “Just..please…stay away from Seungcheol.”

  “…Okay.”

HAPPY NEW YEARS EVERYBODY!!

EB: here’s to hoping 2017 won’t be nearly as bad as 2016 was!

TG: god i hope so