#i think about the operator baby every single day

[peachesofteal]

Light On - single mom/neighbors fic Simon Riley/female reader

“Are you sure it’s not too cold?” 

“It’s fine.” You glance down at Emmaline in the stroller, wrapped up in a blanket over her little winter jacket, fuzzy wool hat pulled down around her ears. “It’s not nearly chilly enough to be concerned. She’s probably overdressed, to be honest. In Norway, they leave babies outside to sleep in much colder temperatures.” 

“Why?” He keeps pace beside you, strolling along the park’s walking path leisurely, trying to keep his heart rate normal every time your hip bumps his thigh, or you nudge him with your elbow. 

“It helps their immune system, I think. Exposes them to the germs in their environment, allows them to build resistance, or something. Plus, the climate there is naturally cold? So, I think it helps acclimatize them. Pretty sure some people say they sleep better.” 

“That’s… brave of them.” He doesn’t know what else to say, he can’t imagine trusting the world enough to leave a baby, leave Emma, outside to sleep. 

“It’s different, I guess, when you have a ‘village’,” you use air quotes around the word village, and regret flashes across your eyes. “when you trust your community. Rely on them.” He doesn’t expect the longing that rings in your voice, the doleful, twisted tone of loss, a mournful sentiment that has him nearly pulling up short, slowing to a stop to tilt his head in consideration, his eyes above the mask zeroed in on yours until you’re giving him a meek smile and shrug. “Anyway,”

“Sweet-“ 

“I feel like we’re always talking about me or Emma. How about you? How was your week?” You pause, something occurring to you, pushing your lips forward with curiosity. “I know you said you travel for work, but I don’t think you ever told me what you did?” Shit. He’s not ready for this. He tries to recall how he practiced it with Johnny, the words that they agreed upon, the approach he would take. 

“Ye gotta make it sound at least somewhat normal, LT. Make her feel safe about it.”

“’m not goin’ lie to her.” 

“It’s not lyin’. Just, use the official language. The propaganda stuff, y’know.” 

He knows what he’s supposed to say, the lengthy spiel about ‘managing global conflict’ and ‘identifying and neutralizing domestic and global threats’, the words Johnny had suggested, but instead, what comes out is; “I’m uh, in the military. In a multi-national spec ops task force that focuses on counter terrorism. We operate from of a base just outside the city.” The park bustles around the three of you, runners and walkers circumventing where you’ve slowed to a crawl on the crushed gravel path, families tugging at one another, boys and girls hopping with excitement over promises from their parents. 

“That’s… interesting.” You say the words slowly, like you’re mulling them over, considering them. “Is it dangerous?” 

“Only sometimes.” You raise an eyebrow like you don’t believe him, skepticism plain as day, and he concedes. “It’s not a desk job, but I’m very good at it.” He wants to reassure you, desperate to keep the hope alive that’s been building in his heart for you, needs you to feel safe with him. The water is in sight now, ducks and swans floating on top of the glass like surface, waiting for their offerings that come from so many that frequent their little lake, every day. You motion to an empty bench, turning the stroller in it’s direction, his breath still caught in his chest, lack oxygen starting to make him feel woozy. Say something. Say anything. 

“Emmaline’s dad had a dangerous job too.” You unbuckle her from the stroller, cradling her in your lap as you nestle into one end of the bench, eyes fixed on the group of ducks closest to the shore. “And he was good at it.” 

“Is that how you lost him?” He concludes softly, the question as gentle as he can voice it. You don’t look at him, but he can see the change in your face, tears welling at the corners of your eyes, posture curling over your baby. 

You only nod, but it’s enough. Enough for him to slide a little closer, pressing the outside of his leg to yours. Enough that your free hand wanders, fingers brushing against the fabric of his jeans, your face lifting from the water to his with a question. 

“Can you hold her? While I get the biscuits?”

“Of course.” You shift her into his arms, and he straightens her so that she’s sitting up against his chest, crook of his arm supporting her head, other hand flush with her belly. You rummage inside the bag that’s shoved under the stroller, Emma’s backpack, and she coos at you from Simon’s arms. “Is that your mum?” He murmurs, and she gurgles something in response, a happy string of sounds that has his heart warming inside his chest. “Yeah, that’s her huh?” You straighten, bag in your hand, watching him and Emma, sad expression turning beatific, bittersweet smile pulling at your lips. 

“Come on.” You don’t reach for the baby, instead motioning for Simon to follow you, trusting him to carry her down behind you, to hold her as you as break up the little pieces of biscuit. “I promised her some ducks.” 

[wherewolf]

the responses i’ve seen to shiv’s ending seem very quick to write her off as just another sad victim of the cycle, which isn’t without truth BUT!!! that is not even remotely the summation of shiv’s story.

i don’t think she votes yes to “save kendall” or to try to finally set her brothers free. and i don’t think her main concern was that ken was becoming their dad. she absolutely noticed and didn’t love it, but that was not her motivation in betraying him. she was thinking about herself.

it’s tempting to make a martyr out of her as she is the only female child and we see her suffer the onslaught of misogyny that comes with that. but to make her into a saintlike figure who got beat takes away the power and intelligence behind her decision.

at this point she’s stuck between two non ideal choices, but she recognizes that they have accidentally made her the single most important player in the game. because while she can’t have the outcome she’d prefer, she has the power to decide the fates of everyone else. the written off lone woman now holds in her hands the fate of every man in her life.

so she thinks about the long term benefits of both options and realizes that one side leaves her completely without any leverage.

her brothers have proven to her multiple times in the last few days alone that they will cut her out and walk all over her the first chance they get. siding with them leaves her nothing to bargain with. she would just have to hope that ken would actually take care of her. and that level of vulnerability is not only unacceptable to her, it’s stupid. and shiv fuckin roy is not stupid.

so she thinks about the other side and about what she actually wants for her life. and against her better judgment, it’s becomes unfortunately clear that she wants tom. the way she wants him is not altogether loving or even good but it is necessary to her. she sees relationships as having winners and losers and she chose this man specifically so that she could be confident in her ability to win. except now he’s grown some balls and made himself unavailable to her.

she may not like the way her husband is evolving but she already placed her bets on him, so she’s sure as hell not losing to him now. there’s also a part of her that feels intrigued by this new man she’s married to. it’s interesting to have a sparring partner in him instead of having to looking for excitement outside of their marriage.

so for maybe the first time ever, she processes what tom has said to her and thinks about what he actually wants.

he needs her to prove that she cares. he needs to know that she is capable of sacrifice. if she can’t find it within herself to do this for him, then she will lose him, and by extension, she will lose.

siding with tom gives her the opportunity to once and for all make a grand-stand gesture of love, but more importantly, it creates leverage for her. never again will he be able to hold the moral high ground over her head. never again can he say she doesn’t love him. never again can he call her selfish or uncaring. above all, he can never betray her again, because she just removed all of his moral justification for turning on her. he doesn’t realize it yet, but she’s just taken back all the power in their relationship. just in a more subtle way than she’s used to operating.

and just like that, she has the ceo of a multi billion dollar company in her pocket, while situating herself as the only descendant of logan roy to still be playing the game, having removed her brothers from the equation permanently. she may still be far from the top but she’s creating a path for herself to climb.

so yes, she’ll let tom play king for a day, and she’ll have his baby and say “congratulations,” and play the gracious wife, but tomorrow is a new day with lots of room to maneuver. and when her husband puts out his hand, she’ll place her own on top. but she won’t grasp it because she doesn’t need to.

[reshinless]

Uh hi! can i request a kinch x fem!reader fluff in a secret relationship u can add in a little spice if you'd like

NSFW content under the cut.

its not that he wants to keep you secret, but rather to keep you safe. he knows how wild people who admire him can get (harassing you, etc.) so he hides you as much as he can go keep you unharmed.

he never even told mualani, bit she did notice how he was being more careful about what he said.

"you.. probably have some super secret operation don't you?!" she points, accusation out and against kinich on the table. "...you couldn't be more wrong."

the way she found out about you though is barging in on you to making out.

you and her were pretty close you'd say, not that you both were enemies or anything. the reason you met kinich is because of her, but she never expected you both were already together.

"so.. you both.. like each other?? like.. like like?" "yeah." outside you both were barely seen this cuddly, his arm around your shoulder, his head on yours as you snuggled in further- eughhh!! mualani was about to explode from singleness.

but nowadays, mualani would ask you both to hangout, but then ditch it and say 'oh no!! guess you both just have to hangout *wink wink*'

not that you disliked it, people were starting to suspect it, so you both agreed on spending a bit of time apart. just for a few days. but kinich could barely last another second watching some other guy try and flirt with you, didn't he notice the promise rings you both distinctly matched?

he suddenly pulled you aside, making sure you're okay. he could care less about how romantic it had looked like to others- he couldn't handle just standing there as a guy is about to harass you.

he knows you don't even like the guy, as if he was your type. but who wouldn't be jealous, so many men trying to go after you, you already have the best boyfriend ever (him).

it was hard being away from you for three days. three days!!

he wouldn't say he was possessive. just making sure his future wife is only his. he wants to be your first, and last. not that you'd ever break up. keeping the relationship between you two strong for about.. eleven months! :))

"hhaah.. feel nice baby?" his cock felt like a spear inside your hole. not to mention his merciless thrusts into the warmness of your pussy.

"y'like that, don' cha princess? fffuck you feel nice." he was definitely more social in private, compared to being in public eye all the time.

he groaned as you took him so well, your head cuddled up in the cushions of the bed, stuck looking up at him and him only. creaking with each powerful pound into your sweet little cunt.

the moonlight that shone through the gaps of the window's curtains made you look ethereal in his eyes, fuck he could do this for days..

your sweet little whines, and incoherent babbles made him harder each time. maybe the lovely marks scattered all over your neck would tell every other guy to fuck off while he fucks you later.

he wouldn't say possessive, but maybe a little obsessed with the way you smiled, you glanced, your words, your scent. maybe too much with your scent. or maybe he liked the way you felt.

your skin was soft in his touch, the way it dipped underneath his fingers. his grasp only got tighter the closer his orgasm started to feel. oh but for you? it might be your fourth!

you knitted your eyebrows, your back arches, lifting you a little upward the further kinich tried to reach into you. he leaned in to feel your lips on his before he'd come inside you.

you moaned and whined in the moment, loving the way kinich felt on your lips (and inside you).

he lands pretty kisses up and down your nape. "mmm.. close?" he hums, looking up at you as he felt you start to scratch at his back again. "hnnghh.. y- yeah.. k- kin I think I'm gonna-" "jus' let go princess, cream on my cock."

the marks were made even clearer, your back ached from arching so much- shit did he come inside you? archons that felt nice! you felt kinich lean into your chest as he finally sighed of relief.

"Mmm.. one more? please?" he mumbled as he rested his cock inside you, his head in the crook of your neck.

"..." "what?" "ARE YOU SERIOUS"

[beneathstarryskies]

Omg your requests are open 🙏

Could I please request some breeding kink headcanons for some of the RE men? Chris, Leon, Wesker, Ethan and Karl? That would be awesome! Thank youuuu

Warnings: breeding, pregnancy, female reader, obviously unprotected sex.

Chris Redfield

Chris didn’t even realize he had a breeding kink. He stays so busy and is often so far away, he doesn’t see himself as necessarily being ‘father material.’

However, one day, he goes with you to a family function. There, he gets the rare chance to see you interacting with your small nieces/nephews/cousins and he imagines you with your children. Would you be as patient and loving as you are with the small kids in your family? 

Chris knows this isn’t a decision to make lightly, but he also is a man who acts a lot on passion and instinct. 

When he gets you home that night, he can’t stop thinking about putting a baby in you. 

You can’t do anything for the next few days without Chris pawing at you, kissing you everywhere he can reach, begging to cum inside you every time he can. 

Are you bending over to do laundry? Oh, now you have his bulge pressed against your ass! Are you lying in bed reading? Guess who is slowly peeling your pants off and pressing kisses on your inner thighs! 

Finally, he lets it slip. He has you bent into a mating press while he’s pounding into your soaked cunt with reckless abandon. 

“Let me put a baby in you,” he growls against your ear. 

Leon S. Kennedy

Leon has been on his own for a long time. He loves the idea of having a little family of his own, and he doesn’t hide it at all. 

Every time he’s fucking you, he is going to cum inside of you whether you’re on birth control or not. He just can’t imagine not spilling his load inside of your waiting walls. 

Leon will slip up and call you ‘mommy’. He says it sort of as a joke the first time, but then the name just fits you so well. He can’t resist telling you how much he wants to make you a mommy. 

He always keeps his cock sheathed inside of you after you’ve both finished to keep his cum plugged inside your little hole. 

If he goes soft he’ll just use his fingers to push his cum back inside and keep it inside. 

For all of his big talk, if you do end up pregnant he will panic a little bit deep down. His work is dangerous and has earned a lot of enemies for him. It might take him a while to let the news set in. 

Once you are pregnant and Leon comes to terms with the reality of parenthood, he becomes so protective. You will never be out of his sight, even if it’s just him tracking your location or calling in a favor to have an agent look after you while he’s away. 

All in all, he’s very happy to have bred you. 

Albert Wesker

As an Umbrella operative/double agent, Wesker didn’t have a breeding kink. He was constantly plotting for his gain and looking out for his skin. Being a parent would only complicate matters further and give him yet another piece to move on the chessboard. 

However, when he realizes the true potential he holds within himself, to dominate the world and rule as a god, something snaps within him. 

The need to carry on his superior genes and establish a legacy grows strong. 

He can’t breed with just anyone, however. He goes to painstaking lengths to find someone who has genes compatible with his own. Oh, and once he finds you he wastes no time making his way into your life. 

You’re his precious little lover, and he goes to any lengths to make sure you’re as smitten by him as he is with you. 

He gets off to the idea of knocking you up every single time you’re intimate. Even if you’re just giving him a blow job, he will bust as soon as he imagines breeding you. 

Not to worry though, because Wesker has stamina for days. He’ll wear you out with his libido. All the while he’s growling and grunting in your ear, making sure to tell you how much he loves breeding your little cunt. 

If you beg for him to cum inside of you, good fucking luck. He will go absolutely feral. 

Ethan Winters

It’s no secret that Ethan loves being a dad more than anything. He has so much love to give, and he is naturally doting on those he loves. 

That being said, with everything he’s been through it will take him some time after your relationship begins to think about having a family with you. It will first cross his mind when someone mentions how good you are with Rose. 

The thought sticks with him for a while, and then it morphs into the idea of having another baby…

Soon, he’s picturing you swollen and round with his baby growing inside of you. He can practically hear how sweet you’d be explaining to Rose that she’s going to be a big sister. 

He’s trembling with excitement when he brings up the idea of having a baby to you. If you agree, he is going to be hard immediately. 

Ethan doesn’t do anything half-assed. The man becomes OBSESSED with breeding you. 

He’s tracking cycles, he’s pulling all the positions that are the most effective for conceiving, and most of all he is fucking you every single time he gets the chance. 

Karl Heisenberg

Karl gets the idea to breed you for entirely selfish reasons if we’re being honest. 

When Alcina is allowed to create three daughters, he grows a bit jealous of that. Why does she get a family? Why does Donna get her stupid little doll? And when he learns of the possibility of having a strong, powerful child…Oh boy. 

He won’t exactly tell you his intentions. He just starts pumping thick loads of cum into you every chance he gets. 

One night he’ll let it slip, “I’m gonna put a baby in you.” 

He doesn’t really care if you want a baby or not, the idea of it just motivates him beyond anything else. He becomes insatiable, especially during a full moon. He’ll have you bent over every surface or folded into a mating press all night long. 

The problem with Karl though is he doesn’t actually consider the reality of having a kid. When you start showing signs of pregnancy, he kind of starts to panic. He might push you away a little bit, not fully wanting to take responsibility even though he wanted it so badly at first. 

However, when certain people begin questioning how you became pregnant his protective instincts will flare up. Then, he’ll never let you leave his sights.

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

The Butternut Squash (The Surprise, Part 19)

Emily Prentiss x fem!reader Warnings: pregnancy times, mentions of female anatomy/breastfeeding, explicit language (let me know if I missed anything!) Word count: 2.2k

Summary: You and Emily don't really need a baby shower, but you do need help getting the nursery ready, so the whole BAU comes over one Saturday to help out.

Week 29: The Butternut Squash

You had insisted on no gifts. You and Emily had plenty of money. You didn’t need a registry, and you didn’t need a baby shower. What you did need was help getting the nursery decorated and set up. So Emily–fresh off a 4-day case–had invited the entire BAU over to help prep the nursery on a rare, free Saturday.

“Emily,” you complained that Friday morning when she came home. “I won’t even have time to make food!”

“You don’t need time to make food,” she chastised, wrapping her arms around you from behind and resting her chin on your shoulder. “Because we’re just gonna have it delivered.”

You scoffed. “I always cook, Em. It’s my whole thing!”

She turned you around and grasped your face in her hands, kissing the tip of your nose, then moving to your lips. You huffed impatiently, even as your stomach erupted in butterflies (and maybe a few kicks from the baby) when Emily kissed you. “Okay, well, right now your whole thing is being seven months pregnant, so…”

“I could at least make cookies…” you grumbled. “If you get me chocolate chips from the store?”

Emily raised her eyebrows at you, but smiled lightly. “Will it make you happy?”

“Mmhm,” you confirmed, turning on the charm and your very best puppy dog eyes.

She sighed and rolled her eyes, kissing you one more time for good measure and grabbing her keys from the counter. “I can’t say no to you when you look at me like that.”

“Thank you, my love!” you called after her, a little too giddy with your grocery store victory.

“Yeah, yeah…” she muttered, shutting the door, but you knew she was smiling behind it.

But, now, here you were. Saturday, mid-morning. A plate of fresh-baked, homemade brown butter chocolate chip cookies on a plate on the coffee table… along with gifts from every single member of the BAU. Despite insisting they not bring any.

Hotch sat in the living room with you, playing Mario Kart on the Switch with Dave and Jack. Penelope gossiped with you on the couch. Meanwhile, Emily was running operations in the nursery, and every so often you could hear her ordering Derek and Spencer around. It made you giggle. JJ squeezed your shoulder, hovering back and forth between rooms.

“You need anything, Y/N?” she asked.

“I’m okay,” you assured her. “Thanks, JJ. Just… make sure Emily doesn’t get too bossy.”

JJ laughed. “Oh, I’m not sure anyone can do that.”

“Can we do gifts now? I think we should do gifts! Open mine, Y/N!” Penelope insisted, patting the spot next to her on the couch for JJ and handing you a glittery gift bag. You should’ve known they wouldn’t listen when you’d said not to bring gifts. You would’ve done the same thing. They were your family, after all.

You pulled out the tissue paper to reveal several tiny baby onesies in bright colors with adorable designs and sayings. Happy Camper. Silly Little Bear. Even one with tiny dinosaurs all over that said Babysaurus. Your heart felt like it might burst thinking about how cute your little one was going to look in these.

“Penelope, these are so cute!” You wrapped her in a hug. “I’m gonna send you so many pictures of her in these!”

“I know you guys are waiting to find out the gender, so I tried to pick ones that were gender neutral. Although, I mean I guess technically every outfit is gender neutral or… should be, or–”

You stopped her before she spiraled. “They’re perfect."

Before you knew it, Jack was pressed up against you, shoving another gift bag into your hands.

“Open ours, Aunt Y/N!”

You wrapped an arm around him and gave him a squeeze. “Thanks, buddy. I can’t wait to see what it is!”

You pulled out the most adorable stuffed gray wolf, soft as velvet, complete with two little pointy felt teeth sticking out.

“Oh, Jack, it’s perfect!”

“His name is Wolfie,” Jack told you, snatching the toy back.

“Jack,” Hotch scolded. “Remember, that’s for Aunt Emily and Aunt Y/N’s baby. It’s not yours.”

Hotch looked at you apologetically, and you shook your head to let him know it wasn’t a big deal.

“I made you this picture, too,” Jack said, handing you a crumpled piece of paper. You smoothed it out to find stick figures of you and Emily. He’d drawn your belly as a big circle, with a tiny swaddled baby inside of it. You grinned.

“Now, this is art, Jack. This is going right on the fridge.”

“This is you,” he said, pointing. “And this is Aunt Emily. And this is the baby inside your tummy.”

Speaking of the baby, she was incredibly active right now. Almost as if she, too, was happy to be with her BAU family.

“You want to feel her kick?” you asked Jack, and he nodded. You grasped his hand in yours and pressed it over your baby bump, estimating at the last place she’d kicked. Jack screeched when he felt her kick his hand, jumping on his tiptoes.

“Oh my gosh!” he squealed. “Oh my gosh! Daddy, there’s an alive baby in there!”

Hotch smiled at you. He was such a good dad. A good team leader. A good friend to you and Emily.

“After she’s born, Jack, you’ll have to come over and hold her,” you told him, but he was already gone, distracted the Switch.

“Aw, crap,” Dave exclaimed as Hotch hit him with a red shell. Hotch chuckled. “Y/N, go ahead and open up mine,” Dave said. “I’ve already lost this race. It’s the one with the silver paper.”

Penelope grabbed the gift for you, since your arms wouldn’t quite reach all the way to the coffee table. You ripped off the paper to reveal a box set that read, “Ciao Pasta Bistro.” It included a tiny little metal stock pot and colander, little ladles, and soft felt pasta shapes–bowties and raviolis and elbow noodles and shells.

“Oh my god,” you breathed, looking it over. Penelope and JJ leaned next to you to get a closer look. “This is freaking adorable.”

“The little meatball’s gonna know her pasta shapes if Uncle Dave has anything to say about it!” Dave called, cheering as he zoomed past Hotch with Star Power.

“Thank you so much, Dave,” you said, and you really meant it. They were such thoughtful gifts, so particular to each of them. You couldn't wait to show the baby, to let her get to know her BAU family, too.

JJ waited until everyone was distracted and Penelope had been dragged into Mario Kart (“Okay, but I’ll win! They don’t call me a tech goddess for nothing!”) to give you her gift. She sat next to you and pulled a bag from underneath the coffee table.

“These are more for you than for the baby,” JJ explained. “But if your pregnancy is anything like mine, you’ll get plenty of baby gifts, but not a whole lot of mom gifts.”

“That’s really thoughtful of you, JJ.” You squeezed her hand.

She pulled things out one by one, displaying them discreetly and explaining their purpose. “Listen, your nipples will hurt so bad. So bad. Just telling it like it is. So…” She held up a plastic tube. “Nipple cream. This one was my favorite. Also, silver nursing cups. I can’t explain why the silver makes them less sore, but it does.��

You nodded, feeling both overwhelmed and extremely grateful. “It’s basic, but there’s also a food delivery gift card in here. I know you love to cook, but I promise you’re not gonna feel like it for a while after giving birth.”

“JJ, I don’t know what to say. This is so nice.”

She held up a finger to stop you. “Last gift.” She pointed to herself. “Me and Will. We’re happy to babysit. Often, if you like.” When she saw you start to protest, she said, “Look, Henry’s getting older, and I really miss baby snuggles. So it’s really no trouble at all.”

You felt like you might cry. It wasn’t that nobody paid attention to you or took care of you during your pregnancy. Emily took excellent care of you. It was just that JJ was right. Most people looked at the end of your pregnancy and the birth of the baby as the end of the hard part for the birthing parent. But you knew that wasn’t going to be the case. And JJ knew, too. You were so grateful for her friendship, for her support.

“Thank you so much, JJ,” you said quietly, pulling her in for a hug.

“Oh, are you opening gifts?” Spencer asked, entering the room and hovering quietly behind you.

“Yep!” you said, watching him retrieve a tidy package wrapped in newspapers and hand it to you. You looked at him, eyebrows furrowed. “Are you guys done with the nursery already!?”

Spencer chuckled. “Oh, no. Not even close. I just snuck out while Emily was yelling at Morgan.”

You shrugged and started tearing the paper. “That tracks.”

Inside Spencer’s package was a set of colorful board books with titles like Quantum Physics for Babies, General Relativity for Babies, and Rocket Science for Babies.

“Spencer, these are awesome!” you exclaimed, reaching out to squeeze his hand. “Baby Prentiss is gonna be a genius.”

“You know, that’s probably true,” Spencer observed, taking Penelope's place in front of the TV next to Jack. “Scientifically speaking, children inherit their intelligence from their mother, not their father. So no matter how intelligent or unintelligent the donor was, the baby will inherit your intellect. And you’re really smart, so it’s likely the baby will be, too.”

“Trust Reid to come with a prepped science lesson,” Emily said, poking her head around the corner.

You threw a balled-up piece of wrapping paper in Emily’s general direction. “Zip it, Em! I like hearing about what Spencer knows.”

“Nerd,” she muttered under her breath, coming up behind you to place her hands on your shoulders and kiss the top of your head. “You alright? You need anything?”

You squeezed her hand. “I need you... to stop being so mean to Derek.”

“Thank you!” Derek exclaimed, emerging from the hallway to shove Emily out of the way and plant a kiss on your cheek. “It’s nice to know someone around here cares about Uncle Derek.”

Emily shoved him back. “Yeah, well, I don’t want to have to tell the little butternut squash that you wussed out of painting his nursery one wall in.”

Derek grabbed one of the cookies from the coffee table and took a bite, momentarily closing his eyes in enjoyment. You smiled. This is why you loved cooking and baking.

“Listen, Prentiss,” he teased. “I’m taking a well-deserved break. You’re lucky I love your girl or I wouldn’t put up with this shit.”

“Ooh!” Jack squealed. “He said a bad word!”

Derek looked at Hotch apologetically, then reached down to grab the last unopened gift bag. 

“Here, mama,” he said, handing it to you. “Saved the best for last.”

You grinned at him, handing Emily the loose tissue paper as you opened the gift. Inside was a collection of soft toys that included a football, a whistle, and a little number one finger.

“Oh, man, are we gonna have a little football fan, Uncle Derek?” you asked, grinning cheekily.

“Not just any football fan,” he insisted. “There’s one more thing in there.”

You pulled out a tiny Chicago Bears onesie, complete with a number 34 on the back for Walter Payton.

“A Bears fan, huh?” you said, smiling from ear to ear.

“I figured since the little guy or gal’s gonna be born right as football season’s kicking off, he’ll spend a lot of time on the couch watching the games with Uncle Derek. And we gotta be decked out in our matching gear.”

“If you let us sleep, Morgan,” Emily said, squeezing his shoulder playfully. “You can indoctrinate my son into being a sports fan all you want.”

“Or daughter!” you protested, and the whole team laughed. By now, your faux-feud over the baby’s gender was well-known. They were even placing bets. It was about a 50/50 split.

“Alright, guys,” Emily said, clapping her hands together and rallying the troops. “One wall down, two walls to go. And one wall of wallpaper, but I don’t think that’ll take as long.”

JJ, Penelope, Hotch, and Dave stood to follow Emily to the nursery while Derek took a seat next to you. Spencer sat cross-legged on the floor with Jack, fully immersed in Mario Kart.

“Be there in a second, Emily,” he called. “We’re about to start Rainbow Road.”

You grinned, so glad to be surrounded by Emily’s family–her real family. Happy that you had people who were excited for you, people who took care of you, people who gave up their Saturday to help you get ready to welcome a new family member.

“Hey, Jack, add me and Derek in for the next round,” you said, lowering yourself gently onto the floor, Derek’s hand instinctively grasping yours to support you. “I play a mean Moo Moo Meadows.”

[screechingsandwichtriumph]

Platonic yandere avengers x reader x romantic yandere peter parker

Idek how to begin this so beware unlucky readers

Summary: you are an idol ,you are an avenger. How can they not be slightly a little bit protective of you

Warnings: yandere themes , stalking, obsession, fighting, blood , I think this is it

Also this will include(I'm sorry I didn't exactly do the like main six or whatever) Tony , Steve , Bucky , Clint , Natasha , Wanda , Peter

This is longer than I expected and I kinda don't like it but here it is in its full glory<3

When you joined the team , they blamed their protectiveness over you to your personality

I mean you are so cute and look so innocent , how can they not want to protect you ?

Tony had totally not hacked into every single account that you own / have owned in your life and he absolutely hasn't researcher your dad's Facebook to find childhood pictures of you. And he surely didn't print those out and handed then around in the team. Also expect to be spoilt rotten. Complained once about a stain on your favorite jacket? Have three more of the exact same just in case

Steve claimed to need specifically your help to understand how to operate anything mechanical ad expect to have a lot of movie marathons. He will read you before you sleep even though you are not a child anymore because ' he just liked when he is reading out loud'

Bucky would be the type of person to dig in deep in your life. He wouldn't stalk you specifically. That is tasked to someone else. No . He would stalk Al your friends and all your exes and highschool teachers.ad if he had to he would accidentally make some of them he consider bad influences disappear

Clint along with Natasha are your stalkers

Clint will always be hidden close by in case you need help with something (like , idk someone dead?) and my man could literally enter your home , casually look around a bit , stare at your decorations , and be out without you even realizing he was never there

Natasha on the other hand isn't so subtle. You could easily spot her on the other end of the street wearing sunglasses and staring at you intensely. Once you were in a bookstore admiring some books and stationary that you did not buy and the next day they were at your door with a little note that said ' saw them and they reminded me of you - Natasha ' as if you hadn't seen her looking at you. It isn't even that she is stupid . She just doesn't care

Wanda practically lived at your head at this point knowing things about you , you were barely aware of. Like , what do you mean you can't remember that one time you went snowboarding and fell? What do you mean how she knows that story and that you never told her? Of course you did silly!

Peter now was clearly in live with you and the first to meet you and get obsessed over you. When after some time he went to Tony and told him about his feelings , Tony supported his feelings to the max since this could be beneficial for all of them. Peter would never leave , they trusted him and he could keep you close.

Now you seem like a soft baby that needs protection from everyone ands that's mainly due to the way you present yourself and act. You have the most bubbly soft personality and everyone loves that

Being an idol , and an avenger was a dream come true for you , so when you had a big show and gave to them tickets to come see you they of course came( Tony almost bought all tha tickets so it could be only you but Steve stopped him)

Heating a music so fitting to your aesthetic it was like they fell in love (platonically and romantically for Peter) all over again. You are just so sweet and cute

Then a day came where an attack happened in new York and all of you jumped to action. They had no time to stop you from going to battle or even think about doing it really. The only think they could do was act.

Now , your powers were so incredibly powerful that they never thought you would have to fight face to face with someone. But they were terrible wrong

Once the fight was over they all spotted you on the corner of a building with bloody fists and a small trail of blood staining your pretty pink costume. A fan of yours was there asking you to take a picture . You kindly smiled at the camera revealing a set of bloody teeth.

Your fan seemed super excited at that and almost yelled out in joy. You bid her goodbye and went towards the group of your shocked friends

They all just stared at you in an unusually bloody shape , that somehow seemed fitting (?)

Later on they were shown a video of you with a bunch of people , that you were brutally fighting with . They were all left to shreds when you left your head held high.( Peter was even more into you after that)

Asks are always open<3

[kingkatsuki]

He just wants to be good enough for you always🥺

Warnings: fluff, reader has a mum and dad.

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader.

Word Count: 1.1k.

You know how he feels.

It was the same feeling that bubbled inside your tummy when you were meeting his parents for the first time. Feeling silly for being so nervous the minute you stepped through the door as you were welcomed into a fierce hug by Mitsuki. A large photo album strewn over both your laps as Masaru offered you some homemade dorayaki.

“It ain’t the same thing,” He scoffs, staring at his reflection in the mirror as he pulls his tie out of its loop to start all over.

“How is it not the same?” You laugh from your position at your vanity, stroking your clear gloss against your lips as you watch him struggle with his tie again.

“They need to know that I can take care of ya,” He pushes, cursing under his breath when he looped the tie.

There’s something that convinces him that he’ll somehow never be good enough for you. The self-doubt and insecurity that’s plagued him since childhood rears its ugly head for situations like these— situations that have your usually strong and confident boyfriend reduced to that same terrified little boy.

“They know you take care of me, baby.” You turn in your chair to face him.

“I ain’t even number one yet, and they need to believe I’m good enough to look after their little girl?” He drops his tie in exasperation as it sits around his neck.

Standing up from your position at his vanity as you make your way over to him. Cupping his hands in your smaller ones as you lace your fingers together at your sides. Squeezing reassuringly as you practically feel his heart pounding against his ribcage, brows furrowed as you smile up at him.

“They won’t care about any of that, Katsuki.” You coo, feeling how sweaty his palms have become from preparing to meet your parents, “All they’ll care about is that you’re treating me well, and that you’re a good man.”

“A good man that leaves you for weeks at a time.” He scoffs.

It’s always a sore spot in your relationship when Bakugou has to leave for work. The best missions always seem to be the ones that take him further away from home than either of you would like. The biggest boosts to his hero ranking always seem to mean the longer trips, phone calls and FaceTimes at unsociable hours the things that keep you both close. But he always keeps his promise to return back to you safely, little gifts from the destination that reminded you of him.

“You do what you have to do, and I understand so they will too.” You reach your hands up to his forgotten tie. Slowly wrapping the fabric around to begin to loop it, pulling it through as he keeps his crimson gaze on you, “There’s no one else for me, Katsuki. Never will be.”

Bakugou would steal the sun in the sky for you if he could, submerge the entire world into darkness if it meant that only you could see it’s glow. There isn’t a single thing he wouldn’t do for you, and if only everyone could see that. The scrutinising tabloid articles and online posts still attack his character, wondering how a man as bold and brash as Dynamight could ever love anyone. But he proves it to you daily, through his words and actions.

You’d found a good one in Bakugou Katsuki, the perfect man. And you’d spend every day fighting his corner if you had to.

“Do you think I should bring that award I got last week? I think it might show your parents that—”

“Katsuki,” You cut off his rambling, shaking your head, “They don’t need to see that to know you’re successful. And I’m pretty sure my mum’s shown an article about that to all of her friends already.”

“I just want them to know that I can look all after ya,” He continues, “Even though my last mission ran over.”

A three week mission had turned into six after Bakugou had discovered the villain he had been tracking down was at the centre of a huge drug ring, the extra three weeks had meant taking down the entire operation but it had meant leaving you alone for Christmas— when he was first supposed to meet them.

“They understood, Kats.”

“I think your ma was pissed.” He scoffs.

“Not as pissed as yours,” You laughed, “She spent the entire evening complaining about it when I dropped off our gifts for them.”

“That old hag,” He shook his head, “She still goes on about that, you know. Doesn’t matter that I jumped up fifty points because of it.”

“No matter what happens— I love you, so they will too.” You smooth your palm along his chest to lay his neatly tied tie down flat against his dress shirt. His hand reaching up to try and tug at the uncomfortable collar as you grin up at him. Standing up on tiptoes to steal a kiss before wiping your gloss from his lips with your thumb, an action that’s halted by him licking his lips to taste the sticky sweetness as he pulls his head back.

“You’re such a dork.” You laugh, shaking your head as you turn around to check your face in the full length mirror.

“Yeah, but I’m your dork.” He hums, wrapping his arms around your waist as he settles his chin against your shoulder.

“Yeah, you are.” You smile, resting your hands on his arms as he sways you side to side, “But I hope you’re ready for my mum to grill you about when we’re having kids.”

“Our ma’s together are gonna be a fuckin’ nightmare.” Bakugou groans, hiding his eyes in the curve of your neck as you start laughing.

“I’d expect nothing less for our relationship.” You smiled, “I’m still recovering from your proposal.”

“Oi,” Bakugou’s arms tightened around your waist, “It ain’t my fault that villain ruined the perfect fuckin’ proposal.”

[hannie-dul-set]

HOME FOR THE BITCHLESS [3].

SYNOPSIS. wherein your friend offers a room for you to crash in while your dorm is being renovated, but fails to mention that your new housemates don’t know how to talk to women (oh, and they also have an ongoing bet about you, too).

PAIRINGS. choi soobin, choi beomgyu, lee heeseung, park jongseong, sim jaeyun, park sunghoon x female! reader. GENRE. housemates! au, rom-com, sitcom, reverse harem time baby. WARNINGS. mild terrorization, sunghoon has a mental breakdown, beomgyu thinks shoulders are inappropriate, swearing. WORD COUNT. 3.2k.

TAGLIST. @cerealdreamwriter @tyongff-ff @dinonuguaegi @certifiedmoa @blueberrgyuu0 @primantha @blu3bell4 @nunugget @hoshi-is-ult-bbg @captivq @tocupid @seosalad @ddazed-lhs @gyuszie @mifuyuyo @error-cant-function @twocupsofsuga @flowerbe0m @dangerousconnoisseurbanana

NOTE. i like to call this the sunghoon chapter. the rest of the boys will get their own chapters too in the future, pls tell me who your favorite boy is so far 😔.

MASTERLIST | NEXT >

CHAPTER 3 — it takes a lemon related accident to get a man to talk.

TODAY IS THE DAY YOU FINALLY FIND OUT WHAT PARK SUNGHOON’S FUCKING DEAL IS. You can only go on for so long of nothing but ominous eye contact and two-worded conversations before you start considering manslaughter (three weeks). You’re going to make him tell you what his goddamned problem is within today even if he ends up punching you in the face (because he always looks like he’s on the brink of doing that, anyway).

The first step to this operation is observation. You have been discreetly watching him this past week, taking note of his daily routine and there are two notable things that you have discovered— one, he leaves his room every single day at three in the afternoon, and two, he returns home at nine in the evening. That’s enough information for you to work with. You have this thing in the bag.

Your next step is preparing for battle. By one in the afternoon, you’ve already showered, blow dried your hair, and dressed in the prettiest outfit you quickly pulled from your closet (a nice chiffon maxi skirt paired with a lacy camisole because nothing lowers a man’s guard better than bare shoulders). You even put on makeup today. If this plan ends up being a failure, you’re going to kill Sunghoon and then yourself.

“You look pretty today,” Jay informs you when you invade his room for the sole purpose of having an outfit check in front of his full-length mirror. “I mean, you’re always pretty. It’s just you’re even prettier today. Like when even though you always make rose tteokbokki for your friends everyday, for some reason the color is just a lot more vibrant this day and it looks extra delicious?”

“Thanks.” You give him a pat on the back and exit the room.

Right when you start climbing up the stairs back to the third floor, your two-forty five alarm goes off. Perfect. It’s all going according to plan. You position yourself in the small space between your room and his, leaning against the archway with a feigned air of nonchalance. 

The familiar click of a lock breaks the silence. You prepare to strike.

“Hey.”

It’s almost funny how Sunghoon immediately flinches at the sound of your voice, but you’re not here to laugh. You’re here to strike a conversation because for some reason, that’s completely impossible with the guy you’re currently staring down. He’s already recovered from the initial shock. You push through even though he’s scaring you shitless. “Can we talk for a sec?”

Apparently, you cannot talk for a sec because Sunghoon immediately starts walking, but you’ve foreseen this. You know he’d ignore you so you quickly kick your foot against the other side of the opening, barricading him inside this small corner with an outstretched leg. 

Bam!

“I asked if we could talk.”

You watch as his eyes fly open in shock, taking a step forward only to jump back from your rather aggressive obstruction. Your arms are crossed, waiting for him to finally open his fucking mouth and surrender. He’s got nowhere to run.

Or, so you thought. Because he does have a way to run, and that is under your leg when he slides underneath as if it’s a fucking limbo stick. It gets a little breezy under your skirt when he skids right by. What the fuck. Is the idea of having to talk to you really that abhorrent to him? Are you seriously considering chasing after him right now?”

“Hey, wait!”

Yes, you are.

Sunghoon is fast. He’s running and running down the hall, down the stairs to the second floor, and you’re right at his fucking heels. You’ve prepared endlessly for this day and you have no intentions on letting him slip away like a slimy lizard. However, you might have made some flagrant miscalculations with your physical abilities, because the moment you reach the bottom floor, Sunghoon is widening the gap, and you’re just about to hack out your lungs and die.

How much stamina does this bastard have? Heeseung emerges from Jake’s room the moment Sunghoon speeds by, and you just barely manage to hold onto the door for support before you give up and start panting. “What’s going on? Are you two playing tag?”

You collapse to the ground. This is too much cardio. “No, I’m trying to kill him,” you say in between bated breaths. “But nevermind, I can’t do this anymore. Can you help me up? I can’t feel my fucking legs.”

When you look up at Heeseung, you notice that he’s brought a brick form of Iron Man from your friend’s room, cradling the red and yellow figure to his chest as hesitant eyes stare down at you with flushed cheeks. “I—I can. I can help,” he chokes out.

“Then help me?”

He simply stares at the arm you have reached out, waiting in the air for his retrieval. You sigh, holding onto the door instead to pull yourself up. Honestly, you shouldn’t have expected anything. “Heeseung, are you mysophobic?”

“What? No, what makes you say that?” The fact that looks relieved that you gave up on him plucks on your irritation. “I love my gay friends.”

You blink. “Nevermind. Can you at least tell me where Sunghoon is going? He usually leaves the house at this time, so I’m curious. Do you have an idea?”

“Oh, he has work,” he answers. “Hoon has the afternoon shifts at The Lounge. I think he works all days on weekdays.”

The Lounge is a cafe near your university (not that you’ve been there. Overpriced ice coffee isn’t exactly within your weekly budget). It’s a little far from this neighborhood and as far as you can recall Sunghoon goes to a different uni for sports medicine, so you’re not sure why he’s working there out of all places. “Alright. Thanks.” You’re careful not to brush against Heeseung when you pass by. One day, you’ll be dealing with him and his suspected germ problem with you, but at the moment your plate is still full with a different problematic male.

You fish for your wallet and phone in your room before crawling back downstairs. However, just when you’re about to grab your sandals from the foyer, you’re stopped by Beomgyu blocking your path. He’s leaning against the wall, waving the PD&J in front of your face (Jay was onto something when he gave it that nickname). “Pay up,” he demands. All these men are stressing you out.

“Why?”

For the sake of maintaining an amicable relationship with your housemates, you surrendered your jar monopoly and agreed that you’d all be using the money for additional grocery budget. However, you do not understand why the fuck you have to pay up now.

“Indecent attire,” is Beomgyu’s justification.

“Beomgyu, my tits aren’t even out.”

He parrots your statement in an annoying voice and you desperately want to punch him. If he wants to pick a fight, he should at the very least hide his blushing and look you in the eye. Your battle armor is working a little too well. “Move. I have another bastard to chase down.” But you don’t have time for him. Goddamnit, you have more men to confront after you’re done with Sunghoon. You shove past Beomgyu and leave the house, on your way to The Lounge with an unshakeable determination to fuck Park Sunghoon up.

It takes you a good twenty minutes to arrive at The Lounge, but you don’t walk in the cafe immediately. Through the large front windows, you spot Sunghoon serving a tray of drinks to some customers behind the counter. Oh, so he can be a normal person if he wants to. He’s even smiling and shit (he has a pretty smile. Why doesn’t he smile at you like that). With a huff, you push open the entrance and bulldoze through the door, stomping up to the counter while planning out your order in your head.

“Welcome! How may I hel—” Sunghoon’s customer service smile glitches when he realizes it’s you. “—he-help you?”

“Hi! Can I have an iced americano without the ice?”

“I’m—I’m sorry?”

You give him the sweetest, honey-dipped stretch of the lips that you can muster. “Iced americano. No ice. Oh, and can you get rid of the espresso shot, too?” 

Sunghoon tries to clarify your order. You talk in circles until you finally settle with a glass of lemonade. This is the first time you’ve heard him talk this much which is honestly such a shame because he really does have a nice voice. Unfortunately, he goes mute around you unless his literal job actually requires him to communicate.

He scribbles your name onto the plastic cup and he asks if you don’t mind waiting. You settle on the table nearest to the counter because you want to keep stressing him out. He is. He has been very stressed from the moment you entered the store and it’s evident from how you hear a resounding swear from his workstation when he accidentally puts in too much lemon reserve in your cup and has to remake your drink.

You thought he’d finally gotten over his bad habit of staring, but you catch him flashing looks at you from time to time and at the moment— it’s rather prolonged. He’s looking at you so intently as he puts on the cup sleeve and calls out your name. You fear that you might have made a mistake because if there’s anything you know well about Sunghoon, it’s the fact that he has a very intense and very intimidating stare.

Like right now, as he continues staring when you get up from your seat to retrieve your drink. Seriously, what’s his fucking problem? You intend on staying here until the end of his shift and maybe corner him in the alley next to the cafe. You might be mildly afraid of him, but you’re not a pussy. You’re gonna settle this once and for all.

“Here’s your order.”

Sunghoon hands over your lemonade but for some reason, he doesn’t let go. You furrow your brows, pulling the cup towards you but it’s like his fingers are glued to the sleeve. He looks like he wants to say something, playing tug of war on your drink as he stalls, but you’re really getting annoyed now. A sharp tug on your end has the drink slipping out from both of your hands— painting a nice, yellow tinted splash all over the top that Beomgyu deemed indecent.

Now, it actually is indecent.

You’re speechless. Sunghoon’s face is flushed scarlet. Thank fucking god you ordered a cold drink.

Things weren’t supposed to go this way.

It’s not yet time for his break, but Sunghoon is already pacing back and forth in front of the breakroom, biting on his thumbnail as a mixture of anxiety and shame floods through his veins after royally screwing up. Fuck, he fucked up. He’s absolutely, absolutely, violently fucked himself in the ass and he has no idea how to salvage this.

He just wanted to apologize for sliding under your skirt earlier at the house, but the words wouldn’t jump out of his fucking mouth so he tried stalling and ended up giving you an unscheduled, lemon-flavored bath. His voice just stops working. It goes into total shutdown when he’s looking at you. It’s pathetic.

Normally, he can talk to people just fine. He gets into arguments with his sister over the phone on a daily basis. Hell, it’s even routinary for him to tell Jay to eat shit.

But something about pretty girls with equally pretty smiles makes it harder to string together sentences, okay?

And It’s not just a him problem. All of your house residents can’t talk to you normally, either, but he doesn’t want to stutter like a dumbass in front of you like Soobin and Heeseung hyung. Jake doesn’t count because he doesn’t even perceive you as a woman.

However because of that fear, he ends up not saying anything altogether. It’s hopeless. He’s as good as out of the running for the fucking bet they called (not that he thought he had a chance to win, anyway).

The breakroom door clicks open. He jitters on the spot.

“Sunghoon?”

Your head pops out from the crack in the door, your now clothed shoulder also peeking through. When you walk out, you’re now wearing the spare top he’s supposed to change into after his gym session later. Now that shirt is on you, and it isn’t helping his you-triggered state of emergency at all. “Thanks for the change of clothes.”

“I—I remade your drink.” For the second time. “Sorry about that.” Okay. You’re doing great, Sunghoon. You’re so cool, so awesome, and if you keep this up, you’ll be home free. You can do it.

You chase the straw with your lips. Why is he staring at your lips? “Sorry for spilling my drink all over me, or sorry about running away from me earlier like I had an infectious disease?”

He gulps. You’re really not making it easy for him to talk to you.

“Look, I think Heeseung acting as if I had cooties is enough of a constant attack to my pride. I might actually snap if you start avoiding me like the plague, too. Seriously.” Sunghoon remembers that he also twisted your arm at one point. He should add that to his list of apologies.

“Th—that wasn’t my intention. I was just afraid of running late.”

“Sure,” you scoff. “That doesn’t explain why the fuck you keep staring at me like you want me dead, though.” Looks like he has a lot more to apologize for. “Sunghoon, be honest. Do you have a problem with me? Like, have I done anything to offend you or something?”

“No, of course not!” he exclaims. “It’s just that—”

And like usual, his voice breaks down. Out of order, like a rundown machine. This is the fucking problem, it’s always the fucking problem, but he can’t just tell you that you make him feel nervous, can he? He can’t tell you that his vocal chords rupture when you’re around, making it impossible for him to talk, so he resorts to staring and staring and staring and hoping that if he stares long enough, you’ll somehow read his mind and get the idea of what he wants to say. 

That clearly hasn’t been working. In fact, it’s making things worse so he has to come clean and oh god, you’re gonna think he’s so lame and he’ll never live past this moment until the day he dies a miserable, lonely death. 

It’s the 21st century— why isn’t mindreading an freaking option yet? You look so genuinely upset that he can feel his heart clench up like an asshole. He should just rip his eyes out to repent.

“I’ll...try to stop staring, I’m sorry.”

“No, that’s not the problem, Sunghoon.” Your tone is filled with exasperation and he’s just driven further into guilt. “I have a feeling that you simply just have an unfortunate case of the resting bitch face, but you know what would help? If you actually say ‘hi’ instead of just ominously staring at me. That way I’d know you’re not preparing to throttle me.”

Is his blank expression really that bad? His brows furrow. He’s never gotten any bad feedback about his face before.

But here he goes again. Thinking his thoughts instead of speaking out loud. You let out a sigh and he feels infinitely worse, but he can’t keep stalling because he has to get back to work, and his co-worker is already giving him impatient looks, and he feels like talking is only making things worse. “Can you wait for a while? My shift isn’t over yet, but my break is in thirty minutes.”

“Yeah, sure. Sorry for disturbing you.”

While he’s making drinks and serving customers, Sunghoon makes sure to plot out his entire explanation speech so that you won’t think he’s entirely pathetic. But thirty minutes go by so quickly and the moment his break arrives and he’s pulling out the chair in front of you, all the paragraphs he’s carefully constructed disappear into nothing. Gone. Head absolutely empty save for the thought that this almost feels like a date. But this is not a date. This is a fucking interrogation.

“Say your piece.”

You don’t even give him a chance to prepare. You’re ruthless.

“Well—” So, he starts. He skips over the part that you make him nervous but that aside, he makes the confession that although he does find it difficult to talk to you due to a certain, specific, undisclosable reason (because you’re a girl and you’re pretty), he definitely isn’t plotting your murder, and Sunghoon’s cadence becomes slower, a lot more jagged when he notices the expression on your face. You’re smiling, but it’s not the pretty smiles you usually give him. This one feels a lot more ominous. Is this how you feel when he accidentally stares at you for too long? Should he be scared?

“—And that’s it, but why...why are you looking at me like that…?”

“It’s nothing.” It’s definitely not nothing. Sunghoon’s eyes follow your movement as you rise from your seat. “What kind of drinks do the rest of the guys like?”

“Jay likes americanos and Soobin hyung— wait.” He’s also up now. He doesn’t know he’s standing up, but he is. “You’re leaving already?”

“Do you want me to stay?”

At this point, you’re just doing this on purpose. What the fuck is he supposed to say to that? “Are we good…now?” hesitantly, he tries to make sure. Something is off and he knows it.

“Yeah. We’re good,” you hum, finishing up your lemonade and leaving it on the table. “See you at home. Oh wait, the drinks.” Sunghoon feels uneasy with this conclusion, but he wordlessly follows you to the counter anyway and takes your takeout orders. You’re just gonna go? Why aren’t you making fun of him for being a loser? Why are you just taking the drinks from him without mentioning anything? 

“Thanks. I’ll come by more often,” you tell him, and it just furthers his confusion. “I can also bring some of my friends so you can keep practicing how to talk to pretty girls. Oh, this latte is yours.”

Ah.

Of course.

There it is.

“Hoon?” You wave a hand in front of his eyes. “Sorry, am I making you nervous again?”

Sunghoon wants to die. 

“Can you just— can’t you just forget everything I told you?”

You shake your head and flash him a smile. The smile that always makes him stupid and nervous. Dammit, why do you have to be so pretty? Why must your smile be so pretty and erode his brain into mush? It doesn’t help when you reach out a hand to give him two soft pats on the cheek. It doesn’t help when the warmth of your touch lingers and burrows deep into his skin. “No way. Not when you’ve finally made so much progress! Let’s keep working on it, okay?” 

Sunghoon is finally able to breathe the moment you exit The Lounge, and he nearly collapses into the ground.

The misunderstanding between the both of you has been cleared up— at the cost of his pride and dignity (not that he has much of that in the first place). How the fuck is he supposed to face you after all of this, much less talk to you.

Words. What even are they?

HOME FOR THE BITCHLESS. © hannie-dul-set.

[topguncortez]

Hold My Hand | Jake Seresin x Shy!Wifey

Opposites Attract Masterlist | Main Masterlist

synopsis: Y/N notices a change with her body, and Jake is there to give her the support she needs.

word count: 1.8k

warnings: mentions of a c-section, postpartum, breastfeeding, unprotected sex, shower sex, fear of doctors, mentions of breast cancer

Y/N felt like she knew more about how a woman’s body changes during pregnancy than her own doctor. By the time she was having baby three, she was an old pro and could tell you exactly what stage of development the fetus was in, how the mother’s body was changing, and the size of the baby. Y/N knew that every pregnancy was different, and each one of hers was different than the last. She knew that being pregnant with twins was going to be vastly different than being pregnant with just one. However, she never accounted for how different it was going to be. 

A C-section was never in the cards for Y/N, but she didn’t really have a choice when she was whisked away by doctors and nurses and taken to an operating room. She didn’t really remember much about it, she could remember being cold, feeling exposed, the scent of burning flesh. But she did remember the feeling of her baby boys being placed on her chest for the first time. She remembered the feeling of Jake running his fingers through her hair and telling her she did a good job. She remembered the bright faces of her other three children when they got to hold the last Seresin babies in their arms. 

Ever since that day, Y/N vowed to do things how she did for the last three pregnancies. She chose to breastfeed the best she could. It was a challenge at first, her milk didn’t come in right away from having the twins early, and due to the c-section. But it got easier once she did start producing, in fact, she started over-producing and woke up most mornings with sore breasts. Jake was great help, waking up during the night to help her feed the twins, and getting her breast pump ready for her. 

The first time she felt the lump was in the middle of the night. Jasper had woken up and was hangry. Y/N told Jake to stay in bed, and that it was just one of the twins that wanted attention. She had gotten him situated to feed when she felt the painful lump on her chest. Y/N had brushed it off, thinking it was just a clogged milk duct. She made sure to feed Jasper on that side, hoping that he could get the clog out. When Jasper was done feeding, Y/N burped him and wrapped him back up in his swaddle.

Y/N didn’t think anything of it, until about two weeks later. 

She and Jake had finally gotten a private moment to themselves. The older three Seresins were at school, and the twins were down for a nap. Y/N placed the baby monitor on the shelf next to the shower and dragged her husband in there with her. Sexy time with Jake was something as few and far between as the passing of Halley’s Comet. They had gotten good at mastering the art of quickies; in the shower, in the garage, in the back of Y/N’s Cadillac SUV. 

Jake’s hands were roaming Y/N’s wet skin, as his mouth was on hers. His cock was gently thrusting in and out of her, trying to make their private moment last as long as it could. Her hands were tangled in his hair, pulling on the blonde locks that had grown way past acceptable for the Navy. Jake was clearly enjoying his time off as much as Y/N was; not having to wake up early, shave every single day, and get constant weekly haircuts. 

“Fuck, sweets,” Jake groaned, as he pressed kisses to her neck. His strong hands held her up against the shower wall, “I love you so much.” 

“I love you too,” Y/N moaned, tilting her head back. Jake’s tongue moved across her skin, down to her breast. The moment his tongue came in contact with her nipple she let out a hiss and pulled him back by his hair. 

“You okay?” Jake asked, his eyes full of concern, “Is it mas-” 

“Please,” Y/N groaned, “Do not talk about mastitis while your cock is inside me.” 

Jake chuckled and kissed her. He didn’t waste any more time, knowing that at any moment the babies could start crying and want attention. He brought his hand down between their bodies, circling her clit in slow tantalizing circles, bringing her over the edge with his name falling from her lips like a prayer. 

“I’ll go check on, ‘em,” Jake said, as he slipped on his sweatpants. His hair was still damp from the shower, and Y/N still stood in front of the mirror, wrapped in only her towel. She hummed in agreement, and Jake kissed the side of her head before going towards the twins’ nursery. 

Y/N stared at herself in the mirror, waiting for Jake’s voice to come over the baby monitor. She let out a shaky breath as she dropped her towel, and ever so gently, ran her fingers along the side of her breast. The moment her fingers came in contact with what she hoped disappeared weeks ago, she let out a small sob. 

— — — 

One of Valeria Bates-Machado’s favorite things was being able to take care of her friends’ kids. It brought her joy seeing them year after year and seeing how much they have grown. She always made the check-ups less scary for parents and kids. Val had been the Seresin kids’ doctor since they were born and knew probably as much about them as their parents did. This was why Val found it a bit odd that Jasper and Maxwell Seresin were on her schedule for the day. 

“Y/N,” Val said, as she entered the room, “What brings you in today?” 

Y/N gave Val a small smile, “Nothing, just a check-up.” 

Val nodded, “I just saw them three weeks ago.” 

“Well, Jasper seemed to be a little congested.” 

Val nodded again, still not believing the smile on Y/N’s face. It didn’t reach her eyes like it usually did, and she never just showed up like this when her kids had the flu. Y/N was a mom times five, she knew what to do when her babies showed signs of congestion. 

But Val did the check-up either way, and confirmed what Y/N thought, that Jasper did have some congestion, but it was nothing that warranted a visit like this. Val ordered some medicine for the little boy, and held him while Y/N got Maxwell out to feed. 

“So how are things?” Val asked, “When does Jake go back to work full-time?” 

“Next week,” Y/N mumbled, looking down at Maxwell, “He’s excited-” 

“And you’re not?” Y/N took a deep breath, trying to swallow down the tears that were welling up in her throat. Val’s eyes softened as she looked at her friend, “What’s going on?” 

“I…. I need your help with something. I know you’re a pediatrician, but you’re one of the only doctors I trust and you know I don’t trust doctors, and I-” 

“Shh,” Val said, reaching for her friend’s hand, “I got you. Whatever it is, I got you. We’ll get through this.” 

— — — 

It had been a week. 

A slow, dreadful, anxiety-filled week.

Every call, every email, every text message had sent a tiny jolt of anxiety through Y/N’s body. Val said she would reach out to her the second that she got the results back. They had agreed to take it one step at a time, starting with taking some scans. Y/N tried her best to remember that they couldn’t do anything else without getting those scans back, but it didn’t stop her mind from jumping to the worst-case scenario. 

Jake had noticed over the past week that something had been off with Y/N. He couldn’t quite explain it or put his finger on it. She was quieter than normal, shying away from his touches. She had decided to switch to bottles full time, instead of breastfeeding. And every time she held her babies, she would squeeze them just a bit tighter and hold them just a bit longer. 

“What’s going on with you?” Jake asked, as he set down a bowl of ice cream with a caramel brownie in front of her, “You’re never this quiet.” 

“Just tired,” Y/N answered, running a hand over her face, “Having Eli home this week has been a change.” 

Jake nodded, still eyeing his wife. The kids had long since been put to bed, after bathtime and several bedtime stories. It was just the two of them, each having an extra slice of the desert, revealed in the quiet house and alone time. Jake let the silence stretch out a little longer, the only sound was the quiet hum from the baby monitor and the clinking of spoons against the bowl. 

“Alright,” Jake sighed, taking the bowl away from his wife, “Talk to me. What’s going on?” 

“Noth-” 

Jake gave her a look and Y/N returned it with an irritated glare. But the facade only lasted for a minute, before her eyes turned glassy, and her cheeks heated up. Jake’s jaw dropped slightly, as the tears started to flow down her cheeks. Y/N buried her face in her hands and quiet sobs escaped her lips. 

Y/N Seresin was not a woman who cried.  

Y/N Seresin was a tough woman, who hid her tears and walked through hell with a smile. 

Jake Seresin was at a total loss on what to do as his wife cried in front of him. 

He waited for a moment, letting her get her tears out. He grew up with sisters to know that sometimes, you just need to cry it out. That asking questions and trying to figure out why at the moment could make it all worse. Jake waited until the tears had somewhat subsided, before grabbing one of her hands and pulling it away from her face. When her sobs turned into sniffles, Jake squeezed her hand, letting her know that she had the floor to talk. 

“I found a lump,” Y/N whispered, her eyes closed. Jake’s eyebrows furrowed, “I found it a couple of weeks ago, I thought it was just a clogged duct. I went to see Val for some scans and I… They want to run some tests.” She opened her eyes and looked at her husband

Jake didn’t know what to say. 

What do you even say in a situation like this? 

Jake swallowed thickly as he leaned forward in his chair, squeezing her hand. He opened his mouth several times, racking his brain for things to say. 

‘It’ll be alright.’

‘We’ll figure it out.’ 

‘How bad is it?’ 

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ 

Everything Jake was thinking of saying, just didn’t sound right to say out loud. So instead, he sat there, and held her hand.

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[abla-soso]

I've been consumed by anger and heartbreak ever since the invasion of Rafah. The hopelessness was slowly chipping away at my sanity, so I tried to numb the pain by distracting myself with the trivialities of my everyday life (I don't know if I have the right to do that, but I needed it to function).

After watching the whole world celebrate America's demonic "hostage rescue" operation that resulted in the deliberate and unnecessary killing of over 200 Palestinians, many of them were babies, something in me just.. snapped.

I knew Palestinian lives meant nothing to these vile ghouls, but it's still shocking to see them being so shameless about dehumanizing Palestinians.

I almost miss the days when monsters at least tried to hide how completely and utterly evil they were.

I.. don't really like how full of hate and rage I am right now. I want every single Israeli POW to drop dead, to suffer. I want their families to weep forever. I don't think it's wrong to feel this way (genocidal colonizers deserve nothing good), but I still don't like how it affects me mentally.

There is a word for it in Arabic: قهر

قهر reminded me of the Korean concept of han

[sonicscrewdriverstantz]

Headcanons, Being Ray Stantz's Child

gender neutral!reader, child!reader

Being born during the groups college days, and just adding a dose of daily chaos to their otherwise uneventful studies.

Three men and a baby. Enough said. It's absolute pandemonium.

Ray being the mother hen. Egon being the irresponsible father, and Peter being the fun uncle.

You have an entire family, even if not by blood.

Ray bringing you to college with him, and multitasking because he can't afford childcare.

Him using you as someone to rattle off all his theories about the occult and paranormal to before you can even crawl.

Peter uses you as a 'mini wing-man'. Women flock to him because they think you're his child and find the fact that he's a seemingly decent single dad attractive. (GIRL, IT'S THE BARE MINIMUM) Peter being himself, of course, doesn't bother to correct them.

Constant compliments being directed towards you by women, to which Peter's reply is always the same.

'Mhmmm, yeah, they get their looks from their father' *insert cocky, arrogant smirk*

Ray then reminding him that he's not actually the father.

'Oh, no, I know, I was complimenting you, honey' *cocky, arrogant smirk still in place, this smug guy knows exactly what he's doing*

Ray immediately becoming quiet and turning a bright, red colour, stumbling, tripping, collapsing over the English language, of which he's usually quite eloquent with. Then picking you up in his arms, and walking off muttering variants of profanities and insults directed at Peter

This section was greatly inspired by a ficlet my friend, @xraylovers wrote for me :) Thanks for letting me use your idea bestie.

Egon views you as a science experiment... problems ensue.

Days spent leaning over old occult books, the dusty aroma worn like a birthday badge as a testament to the age of the journal drifting into his child's face as Ray carefully reads each line.

Him having no concern as to whether this is proper bedtime story material for a 5 year old, as long as their happy, which, judging from the small inquisitive smile and plethora of questions asked, they most definitely are.

Ray is so excited to have a mini replica of him, just as interested in the occult as he is, someone to share his special interest with and experience the excitement and wonder of it all for the first time through their eyes.

Peter looking upon Y/N as his niece/nephew and calling them 'Baby Stantz' or 'The Littlest Ghostbuster' or variations upon. All the while, Y/N constantly complaining about wanting to be a Ghostbuster now.

Naturally, Peter buys a mini Ghostbusters suit with 'Baby Stantz' custom inscribed as the name tag, as well as a toy replica proton-pack. Which Egon promptly turns into a miniature, but fully-working proton-pack... until Ray confiscates it, sharing some harsh words with Egon about children's safety.

'Ray, I was merely teaching Y/N the proper way to operate a proton pack to prepare them for when they become a Ghostbuster'

'EGON! You can't give a child an unlicensed nuclear accelerator!'

Winston becoming the only semi-normal parental figure you have: Egon knows nothing about children, your dad is an extreme mother hen, and Peter is... himself.

Your dad would often take you out in the Ecto-1, wheels spinning, sirens blaring (after you begged ro have the sirens on, and every time he agrees because he has no backbone when it comes to you). You roll down the window and hold your hand out, letting the air rush through your fingers in quick succession as you take in the sights of New York City.

Despite his initial protest, when you became a little older and he realised how serious and passionate you were about following in his footsteps, your dad taught you how to use a proton pack and ghost trap (while supervised of course!) in the basement. While others your age were playing sports or video games, you were being taught how to wrangle ghosts and spirits.

Despite the dangers and challenges of being a Ghostbuster, you've always been proud of your dad and your family. They're not just heroes to the world, they're heroes to you, too.

[wildemaven]

saturdays with javier : unconditional | javier peña

-> pairing: javier peña x f!reader

-> word count: 1744

-> content warnings: 18+ blog; soft smut, kissing, coffee consumption, lots of fluff, baby cows, mentions reader wears a necklace, zero descriptive features of reader, established relationship

-> notes: what was once known as Coffee, Cows & Cock. The final title nowhere close to that lol This was just another random thought and another excuse to write in some cute baby cows. Big thank you to @gnpwdrnwhiskey who not only coined the CCC title, but helped cheer me on and beta this as well!!

series masterlist / main masterlist

“Amor, it’s time to get up.” His voice is low and warm against your ear, mindful of the early hour and the way sleep is still so firmly wrapped around your listless self. 

“Mmm, Javi. It’s too early, let’s stay in bed a little longer.” You manage to say, turning your body towards Javier, where he is laying next to you on top of the disheveled bed sheets.

You’re not a morning person per say. At least not if you don’t have to be. Sleep is a sacred function, especially when your husband delivers mind blowing evenings night after night. Sleep is needed. You rise with the sun and start your mornings together. But on a rare occasion, you will wake while the moon is still shining dutifully, bidding it a farewell as you begin your day at an ungodly hour. 

“Against my better judgment, I’m ignoring your plea for more sleep, so time to get moving if we want to beat the sun. The minute we get back, you can crawl back under these covers— I might even join you.” His alluring words murmured against your bare shoulder, the softest kisses in their wake. 

You hold him close. Fingers tangling in his freshly washed hair, smelling of the citrusy mint shampoo you recently bought him— finally running out of his all-in-one bar of soap. He pulls back to look down where you’re still lying comfortably among the heap of pillows. Your hand settles on Javier’s cheek, the coarse stubble is rough and resistant as your palm rests against his cheek— he must have opted out of shaving at this early hour. 

“Promise you’ll join me when we get back and you have yourself a deal, Javi.” 

“Te promeso, mi amor.” His lips mold over yours, sealing his promise with the softest kiss. A promise he’s sure to keep, but he has other plans for the time being. 

Javier works well under pressure. Years and years of elaborate training and risky operations requiring quick thinking on the ground, has made him proficient in his ability to do things in a timely manner with exquisite detail and stunning results. 

Instincts thrum through you. Your body is well versed in the way your husband is capable of pulling you apart— even when sleep is still within reach. Giving yourself fully to his control and allowing yourself to feel every single breath, kiss and graze of his mouth over every curve of you. 

Bedsheets thrown from your body, the cool air of your bedroom is like ice on your skin— a devastating paired with the warmth of Javier’s body over yours. Your legs fall open, welcoming him, a silent plea for him to give you all of him— fully and completely. 

It’s astounding how Javier has the ability to bring you to life. His voice, all smoky and smooth, dances across your dewy skin. His nose pressed to your cheek. Praise pouring from him as he continues to worship you. Beautiful. Perfect. Amazing. 

Javier is all consuming. From the way he makes your toes curl to the way your leg muscles tense as he hits that heavenly spot within you, every bit of him is intoxicating. All you can think about is him— Javier, your everything. 

Before you’re even able to realize it, he has you both free falling. Bodies brimming with a satiated bliss. I love you’s exchanged silently as he kisses you breathless. His body vibrating and warm under your fingertips. 

“Mmm, that was just what I needed to wake up.” You humm against his plush lips. 

“I’m glad you’re feeling more awake.” He kisses you gently. “Time to get up and get this cute ass moving now. I’ve got coffee waiting for us in a thermos. Go get dressed, Amor, so we can get on the road.” 

*

Minutes after Javier has left to warm up the truck, you’ve managed to extricate yourself from bed. You quickly brush your teeth and wash your face, you’re throwing on a comfy pair of Levi’s, a Sherpa lined denim jacket over your thick thermal shirt, some wool socks and your well-worn brown boots. You make sure to grab your camera and a few rolls of film before you’re heading out the door. 

As promised, there’s a thermos of coffee waiting for you in the cup holder when you slide onto the bench seat of Javier’s old pickup truck. Javier is sipping from his own coffee as you settle in, then places it in the holder next to yours. “You’re too far away, Querida. Scooch over here.” He pats at the open leathered space between you. A gentle kiss to your temple as he pulls the lever down to drive, once you’ve reached the spot right next to him. His right hand settles between the warmth of your thighs and rests there as he heads in the direction of the ranch. 

There’s a comfortable silence in the cab of the truck. Your head finds a spot against Javier’s shoulder as you gaze out the windshield. The familiar road is still recognizable even under the dark morning sky. 

There’s a slight jostle, and the truck rolls to a stop. “Baby, wake up. We’re here.” Javier whispers, the arm you had been sleeping on coming up to wrap around your shoulder. 

“Sorry, Javi. I didn’t even realize I fell asleep.” Your eyes slowly open, your shoulders scrunching up to ease the ache in your back from the awkward sleeping position. 

“It’s a good thing you’re my favorite sleepy passenger.” His hand tilts your face towards him, his lips softly molding over yours briefly. “I’ve got to get the gate. Save my spot?” 

“Always.” You beam at him, watching as he climbs out and opens the large metal gate and entrance to the Peña Ranch. 

It’s not long before he’s back and the truck is heading down the dirt road. The headlights guide the truck to its final resting spot for the morning. Beneath the giant old tree that still sits on the back side of the ranch. The tree where you had exchanged your vows, now a regular visiting spot for the both of you.

It’s not nearly as dark as it was when you left your house. The sky now a light blue as the sun slowly starts drifting up over the hills. The light fog slowly burns off, making the pasture a bit more visible.

“How many are there now?” You ask in between another round of sips of your warm coffee. 

“Pops and I counted 10 yesterday. Wouldn’t be surprised if there’s a few more this morning.” He grabs for your thermos, having drunk the entirety of his while you were sleeping, you hand it over as you continue to watch the herd of cows in front of you. 

The newest calves joined the Peña ranch over the last few days and you had been begging Javier to bring you this weekend. In the distance you notice a few little heads pop up above the brush line, awake and ready for their morning milk. Their little legs still not quite acclimated to being earth side as they try to make their way to their mamas, who were enjoying tuffs of the dry grass as they waited for their young to join them. 

Pulling out your camera, you start snapping a few pictures through the window. The tree’s canopy perfectly framing above and the heard off in the distance with a wash of pinks and yellows as the sun finally crests the hilltop. Javier watches you take it all in, his elbow propped against the window of the driver's door, nursing the rest of your coffee. 

“This was worth it. Thank you for the early morning wake up and bringing me to see them.” You settle back into the seat. 

“There might be something else for you in the glovebox.” You sit up, turning to look fully at Javier who's got a handsome smirk on his face. 

“Javier. What do you mean there’s something else in the glovebox for me? I thought we agreed on no gifts this year.” You should have known he wouldn’t adhere to the agreement the moment he agreed to it. 

He gives you a nonchalant shrug and smile that makes you feel like you won the lottery with him— sometimes you can’t believe he’s yours. His arm draped casually over the back of the seat, his chin slightly raised and pointing in the direction of the glovebox.”

You open the small metal door on the truck dashboard. There, sitting on top of the truck's registration and insurance papers, is a small box. You grab it and sit back against Javier, before opening it. You look back at him again, his brown eyes filled with pure adoration and love for you. 

When you lift the lid, you find a small gold pendant and chain. 

“It’s a locket— it belonged to my Mamá.” He says, watching as you delicately remove it from the box. 

It’s a heart shaped locket, etched with intricate details of a flower. You turn it over in your hand, admiring it entirely. When it hinges open, you find a tiny picture of you and Javier on your wedding day already nestled into one of the slots. 

“It’s beautiful, Javi.” Wiping the few tears that have littered your cheeks. 

“I know how much you like that picture. I left the other one open for you to choose.” His hand rests at the base of your neck, thumb gently kneading over your skin. 

“Thank you. I love it so much.” You hand it to him so he can secure it around your neck. You tuck it into your thermal, where it perfectly rests next to your heart. 

You turn in the seat, your hand cupping the side of his face, you pull him to you for a kiss. His hand cradles the back of your head as the kiss lingers for a few minutes. 

“Happy Anniversary, Javi. Now take me home. I think someone promised to crawl back in bed with me.” He kisses you one last time as he turns the key and the engine comes to life. His hand settles back on your thighs, close just how he likes you. 

You don’t know what you did to deserve this life with Javier, to be loved so unconditionally by him, but you’re grateful for another year together and looking forward to many more. 

[unhingedmarvelandclassicwhobuff]

Apparently at some point MCU fans collectively agreed that the Blip takes place on October 17th, 2023. Which is today. So I figured I'd take the time to detail the four biggest reasons why the time jump in Endgame was a universe-shatteringly horrible idea that should never have seen the light of day

the absolute biggest problem, of which there are many, is the fact that countless people died as collateral damage in the initial Snap. Hell, we are shown it in the Infinity War post-credit scene with those multiple car accidents and that helicopter slamming into a building. And that was just the tip of the iceberg; imagine how many planes crashed because the pilots were dusted, or how many babies starved because both their parents were dusted, or people who may have died on the operating table because a surgeon got dusted. All of these people are totally ignored. It's never so much as mentioned when talking about bringing everyone back, and Tony insisting that the last five years remain unchanged is implicitly saying all of those people remained dead when the dusted returned.

the second big problem with this plot point is that it's used as an excuse for every character except Nat to be totally unrecognizable. Bruce becomes Professor Hulk, Thor gets fat, Tony has a family (and I fucking love how the movie inadvertently says he just let the world rot for five years instead of using his billions of help. That is 100% in character for him), Clint went on a mass killing spree, and Steve... I actually have no idea what made him change so radically. None of this is shown to us at all, it's just told to us.

this is less a problem with Endgame and more a problem with Phases 4 and 5, but the other worse thing about this development is that absolutely nothing has been done with it. Far From Home played the time-jump for comedy, WandaVision had that one great scene in the hospital and then did nothing else, Shang-Chi had a singular throwaway line about the Blip, Hawkeye had that one neat visual of getting Snapped from Yelena's POV and then nothing else, Multiverse of Madness had a single conversation where Strange wonders if letting Tony have his way was the only way to save the universe, Quantumania had a single scene addressing the homelessness issue and then nothing else, and I think Secret Invasion tried to do a bit of a look at how Talos reacted to the Blip, but that show was so awful that I'd rather not think about it. The only projects to do anything at all with the Blip as a major plot point are Falcon and the Winter Soldier and Eternals.

the fourth and final massive problem with the Blip is pretty simple yet complicated; it ignores the absolutely insurmountable societal implications both the Snap and the Blip would have. Think about it; half the fucking universe disintegrates into ash. There are SO many things that would do to just human society alone. But even more importantly, five years after all those people were declared dead (meaning wills are executed, spouses remarried, jobs and homes redistributed, etc) those people suddenly reappear, and from their POV it's only been a second. Just to put it in perspective, the Snap happened on April 29th, 2018. Doesn't that feel like forever ago? If the Snap were real, all those people would have been gone until today. That is such a huge mindfuck that I'm shocked no one went insane. And even looking aside from the psychological impact, all those people are pretty fucking screwed. Far From Home had a single scene addressing this, then promptly forgot about it.

My final point is less of a problem and more of an amusing byproduct; since Tony directly forbids Bruce from undoing the last five years, that means the events of WandaVision, Falcon and the Winter Soldier, Hawkeye, No Way Home, Multiverse of Madness, and Secret Invasion are on some level his fault. That’s fucking hysterical.

I suppose I'll be absolutely fair and say that rewinding time isn't a morally perfect solution either, as you would be erasing any maturity the survivors gained during those five years, as well as anyone born in that time. But that's just all the more reason to NOT HAVE A FUCKING TIME-SKIP!!! I still think the only reason it was done was for cheap shock value.

All in all, the five-year time jump is the single worst major plot point in the MCU. Fight me.

[machapelady]

Bake me a Bun

Soap/Retired!Soap x f!reader Fluff with a slight suggestive line, daydreaming, get this man a baby. Mild stalking(?) I do not know if I should be continuing this ^^ (There will be eventual smut if I keep writing this, also might end up adding some TW because we all know what happens when you tell stories about wounded soldiers) Divider credits go to @vibeswithrenai , lovely work, I recommend checking them out ^^

Johnny is at his roots, a family man. Scottish mead flows through his veins, so does the sweet pie his grandma used to bake.

Before retiring, Soap liked to spend some of his 'vacations' with the whole MacTavish family. Lunch here, brunch there, and kids that flap their pa's kilt just before dinner. He would play chase with the wee lads, loved by his nephews and known as 'Big Uncle'. Often carrying two rascals at a time, or letting losing against them on a hand to hand battle, he was a truly warm and homecoming man.

"John, when ya givin' me sum' wee bairns?" His nan would often ask.

To what his answer would be, between gritted teeth "No bon, no bun, nan. Army giv' no time f'tha"

And so then, he was shot.

Retirement didn't treat him that badly, just gave him a rather permanent headache and a scar on his temple.

Doctors told him to stay put, to enjoy his free time on the hospital' open gardens, the oxygen would do him good they said. But Soap was not a man that would be sitting there, staying still after years of battlefield, movement and stress.

Yet, after trying to get away a couple of times and finally sat down by Price, he took the orders and stayed put like a good kid.

He owed Simon one. The man had managed to push him a fraction away from the bullet trajectory, earning himself a sprained ankle. He would often visit Johnny when free, although for a brief time, dropping telltales of what the squad had been up to. Gaz was the one to stick around most, nagging him about finally being out of the hellhole that being a SAS operator was. They would watch their football together, until nurses told him that they needed to do a check-up.

On a rare sunny day, the whole squad visited him. Price had brought a letter from Alejandro, wishing him the best recovery, and to visit whenever he felt like. The wind almost blew the paper away, sitting in a bench under a tree.

"Bet ya miss us son" John muttered, a tired smile on his face. Soap groaned, rolling his eyes, "honestly, I think I prefer t'share some sweat with yall, rather than this hell of a cell" Even Simon laughed at that.

" 's no sunshine 'round. Bloody white walls fucking strain my eyes every single damn day" He would keep complaining. "I don't miss ya nagging tho" Ghost quipped teasingly.

And so they laughed, walking around looking like a group of old childhood friends that threw shit at each other, being Gaz the one with the most pointy comments "I can't fathom sleep without ya snoring Soap"

Something bumped against Price, earning their stop and a tiny, quiet "sorry" from a tiny, young voice. It was a young lad, no more than six summers at his back. He looked rather scared; faced by an old man, a wounded soldier, a guy with only his eyes visible and a piercing gaze under a cap.

Price squatted "No need to be, lad. Where's ya mum?" The kid shook his head and pointed to a woman, not far away from their position, that was surrounded by kids. She seemed stressed, looking around with wide eyes until she spotted the young boy.

"Oh Matt! Don't go running away like that you little rascal!" She rushed to the kid, and made eye contact with the Captain. "I'm so sorry sir, can't really keep all the kids still sometimes"

"Visit trip?" Price tilted his head slightly, to what she nodded. "We like to show the young ones to respect the injured" Her smile was almost as warm as the sun that day. "They gotta learn more than numbers and letters in school after all"

She took the kid away after apologizing once again, urging the little one to go back with the whole group, that she graciously guided around the hospital garden.

A second pair of blues followed her around as she went by, earning a chuckle from Kyle "Looks like he has a reason to stay here now"

"Hells Bells" The only thing he could say.

For what he could see from his room's window, it was a whole week of field trips for different classes.

To his eyes, she paraded around with the kids, with a sweet smile and warm eyes, showing the little humans things around, be it the entrances, the pond, or making small talk with some old lady that was condemned to stay her last days in that white prison. Like he felt, incarcerated for his health, until the doctors decided his wound and other past poorly healed injuries would not hinder him from having a "normal" life from now on.

For you, you were trying to show the kids some hospitality, to be respectful and appreciate the healthcare and what it could do for the people. For them to listen to the old tales of those veterans in life, or to enjoy the breeze and the grass after walking around for a long time.

Johnny was mesmerized. Completely lost in those warm expressions you always had dancing on your face, or in how you guided the children with caressing palms. Maybe it was the ring of your voice, that now rose above the constant tingle of his newly acquired wound, or the manners that you carried around. He felt strangely isolated in the room, a constant need to go outside and enjoy the grass, of course he wasn't trying to get a chance to talk with you.

Right?

So there he was, again in a bench. And that day he decided to hang his dog tags around his neck. "What a show-off" Simon groaned before saying goodbye couple of hours ago. "Don't come sulking if you scare her away you mutt", and a pat on the back.

It was the same boy as the other day, the one that approached him mesmerized by the shining plates on his neck. Matt sat on the floor, inquiring about what did Johnny do for a living. 'What is that? What do you do? Oh that's so cool!' he would chirp here and there.

Johnny couldn't really say no to the wee thing in front of him, puffing his chest and sharing some of his less-bloodied trips. The puff was taken down by a sudden nervousness when he saw you approaching again.

"Matt how many times do I have to tell you not to go astray from the group" She came already scolding the boy. "Oh, you are from the other day, right sir?"

Ah, she remembered him.

"Just doin' me time in here for a bit" Johnny answered with a boyish smile. "Can't blame the wean, he was all giddy 'n' interested"

"And what might that interest be?" You squatted a bit, poking Matt's cheek. "Miss. L/n this is Soap!" Oh, he got your last name now, maybe Laswell was willing to do some digging as a reward for his honorary actions right? Did he just call you Miss? That in his mind was a Jackpot. "And what does...Mr. Soap do?" She looked at him from bellow, her eyes flickering to his dog tags for a second. "I just tell old tales of sweaty men trying to save the world"

You weren't able to peel Matt from his spot, resigned, decided to indulge in some old stories, bringing the whole group so they could all listen to a veteran's yapping.

"So my mate, you see, big scary man with a mask" He would say, "took'em all down real fast i'm telling ya"

His eyes would often flick from kid to kid, landing on your face. To his delight, you were also caught in his stories, attentive eyes and full focused on how his mouth moved.

"And I was all alone! Havin' to scramble what I could! Bad men trynna catch me but I'm telling yall, nobody cannae stop the Soap" The boasting was impressive. How proud Johnny was of his doings, how he managed to tell his story in Las Almas without mentioning the cartel, or the corruption. "Even took a bloody bullet!" He pointed to his fresh scar, still healing. And that's when he saw your eyes turn somber, rather cold. "Alright kids, Mr. Soap here has lot's of stories, but surely that means he's very tired right? Let's go visit more places around!" After insisting a bit, you peeled the children away from his circle and quickly whispered to him with a disappointed gaze "I do have no doubt on what you did to protect people, but please, showing wounds and violence to children is not appropriate"

When you turned away, he sulked. He had fucked up. Ghost was right, he showed off too much and fucked up big time. He wanted to chase after you, to grab your wrist and apologize. To promise not to use those marks again if it meant seeing your bonnie face.

Yet knowing it would only make it worse, he silently went away, locking himself in the white room and not letting the nurses come in.

"Fucked up" He told Price. "Bonnie thing didn't like when I told the bairns about the bullet"

He earned a sigh, and a folder on his lap. "Didn't Simon tell you to slow down? I'm glad you still got some energy in you, son." Soap cursed under his breath, taking the folder and giving it a quick read. "You know me Sir"

Your whole legal name was there. Education, birthplace, family. Everything. Just a normal civilian, with a normal job. A teacher, the daughter of a warm family.

The folder didn't explain your charming eyes, or the small smiles you would make when a child showed you something. The information didn't do you any beauty, and he was pissed.

He had to hear it from you. Your own name, then his. Then again his name between some whispers or whimpers even. Not long after, Price took him for a walk, trying to pull him away from the constant frown that adorned his forehead.

It was Friday, he could tell you were a bit more energetic than the past day. Guessed it was the last visit you had to bring to the hospital, the last time he would probably see you if he was the one to respect boundaries. But what boundaries if he already had your address and identification number.

"You thinkin' about her still?" Price inquired, sipping on some cheap tea from the cafeteria. "Can't shake it cap. I just cannae. I gotta go tell her I'm sorry or sumthin'" He crossed his arms on his chest, right leg nervously bouncing under the table. "You seen how she look' with the bairns?" That earned a chuckle from the older man.

And bless the heavens he thought, when you entered the room with the group of children, dividing them in groups around multiple tables and asking the barista to make around thirteen milkshakes. You stayed on the counter, counting each quid to later report it to the school.

Price stood up, gave Johnny a pat on the shoulder. "Second try won't hurt you more than the first" He walked away, leaving Soap to shed his personal coat, turning into the homeboy Johnny once more.

"Hey"

You sighed, looking at him. "Sorry 'bout the other day. Got carried away" he mumbled "thought wee things would like something more...thrilling"

"Still not the best thing to say"

"I ken"

"They kept repeating your stories after that." His eyes flickered "Even started calling the other patients by 'sir' or 'ma'am'" Finally you met his eyes, hiding a shudder under your skin feeling like he was seeing right past your soul with those blue gems. This of course didn't pass by him.

"Ya enjoyed 'em?"

"Perhaps"

He leaned in a bit, not yet getting into your space, but enough to give you a tiny whiff of his soft scent. Was it citrusy? Warmth was on it, a little bit fruity but not overwhelming. You could swear there was a tinge of all-in-one shampoo too.

"Okay, yes. I liked your stories." Finally surrendering to his observing gaze, you relaxed on the counter a bit, the barista slowly pulling out the milkshakes. "Still, too bloody for some group of children"

"Hm. You know, even me ol' boss scolded me" The most heavenly chuckle swarmed his ears. "The man with the hat?" Johnny flashed a smirk, eyebrows gathering in the middle giving you an apologizing look and offering you his hand "Johnny's the name"

Johnny helped you bring the milkshakes to the tables, and again started telling his stories. This time with your consenting look, avoiding violence or blood on them.

There was a tiny difference now. His eyes weren't the only ones fluttering between the children and you. Lost in him, in his pearls, sometimes having to scramble your brains to understand his accent and phrasing. Unable to keep eye contact for long, covering your flush by turning your attention to the kids.

You couldn't really lie, he was charming. A warm smile and soft, piercing eyes. A voice that was like silk, but sometimes rugged, unable to ignore how his hands, rather calloused, accompanied the movements of his voice. The dog tags that he still wore, now tucked under his shirt, chain making waves over his collarbone, adorned by a thick and strong neck.

He seemed less proud, and more invested into the stories now. It wasn't about boasting anymore, but a constant fight to keep the kids hooked, and subsequently you too. He bathed proudly on how your cheeks would rose up a bit, or how you fidgeted with the soft fabric sometimes tracing the figures of the funny and childish patterns you wore. He wanted to up the tone, to impress you more like a bird trying to court his counterpart.

But he was a trained man that rarely made mistakes, a quick learner on top of that, not hitting the same rock twice.

Time passed, milkshakes were empty and some kids couldn't keep their eyes fully open. With a rather tired voice, a little raspy from the constant storytelling he chuckled at the wobbly tiny heads in front of him.

"Tired them all" You softly smiled, exhaustion also apparent on your face.

"Do I pass the test, Miss. L/n? Stories good enough?" He leaned slightly against you, a friendly shoulder bump earning another holy chuckle from your lips. "I give you an 8, missed some staging".

"Oh lass, I cannae be doin' backflips and shi- stuff" He corrected himself and tapped to his temple, the scar now healing better "Quite rude to be askin' tha' from a poor wounded soldier"

With a smile, you dismissed him and woke up some of the kids, telling them it was already time to go back home. Some of them whined, wanting to listen to more stories, trying to make you promise for it, something that Johnny eagerly supported, teasing you a bit. Others were completely fried, yawning and rubbing their eyes.

Before leaving the cafeteria, you turned around and thanked him. "Johnny, right? Mine is Y/n" Oh but that he already knew, although it didn't bother him hearing it from your mouth.

What he didn't know was that you would visit him next Monday, taking with you some homemade buns you had made, showing gratitude for his help the past week.

Maybe he didn't fuck up that much, and maybe he could win you over by winning over the kids.

And he was good with children.

[matan4il]

Daily update post:

Two independent terrorist attacks against Israelis took place over the last 24 hours. Yesterday, a Hamas terrorist stabbed in the back a 49 years old Israeli reserves soldier, who stopped to buy something at a shop in a gas station, on his way home. The soldier turned around and, despite being injured, pursued the terrorist, shot and wounded him. The terrorist was later arrested, he had a permit to work in Israel. In the second one, a terrorist started shooting at civilian vehicles passing by, and ended up injuring a 27 years old woman. Thankfully, a baby who is 1.5 months old, who was in the car with her, was not injured, despite at least 10 bullets being retrieved from her vehicle. The IDF is searching for the terrorist.

Israeli soldiers have found and confiscated suitcases with 5 million shekels in cash from the home of a senior Hamas terrorist in Gaza. I want everyone to understand that this sum is currently 1,369,507 $ (yes, I checked with professor Google), and that most Israelis will never see that kind of money. I imagine a majority of "privileged" westerners never will, either. And this kind of money was just lying around in this terrorist's home...

The IDF has exposed and is now in control of what is likely the biggest Hamas terror tunnel. It is about 4 kilometers long (roughly 2.5 miles), and it is wide enough for vehicles to comfortably drive through it. Israeli soldiers have also found footage showing Muhammad Sinwar, the brother of Hamas leader in Gaza Yahya Sinwar, doing exactly that, in addition to footage showing the construction of this terror tunnel...

I don't post every single day about the Israeli soldiers injured and killed in Gaza, because the truth is that it has become technically difficult and emotionally painful to keep track. Yesterday, five more soldiers were confirmed as killed, one of them having been injured last week, and he has now succumbed to his wounds. So far, 128 soldiers were killed in Gaza.

Last month, there was a cyber attack on Israeli hospital Ziv, trying to derail its medical activity. Israel has confirmed today that it has traced Iran and Hezbollah as responsible for the attack. If we count the cyber war (and in terms of requiring manpower and resources, as well as in terms of the potential loss in human life, there is no reason not to count it), then Israel has been defending its citizens on no less than six fronts.

The Iran-funded terrorist Houthis in Yemen have been attacking ships unconnected to Israel, for simply passing through territory close to Yemen. A lot of shipment companies from around the world have announced they will not be sailing through this area for at least a time, which means they would have to sail all around Africa, to pass goods between the far east and the western world. This will hurt the entire world's economy, as shipment prices are expected to rise (think of the Evergreen ship blockade of the Suez Canal... these ships will not be trying to get anywhere near the canal. Symbolically, Evergreen is one of the companies announcing they will no longer sail through the Red Sea due to the threat of the Houthis). This will financially hurt so many countries, including Egypt (which operates the Suez Canal), the US and China (this means Iran's move has created a rare moment when American and Chinese financial interests align). The biggest question is, when will the world fully take in the fact that the biggest threat to world peace is the Islamist regime in Iran, and start acting accordingly?

This is Haj Amin al-Husseini.

Out of all of the people who helped shape the Israeli-Arab conflict, he's probably the most influential one, an antisemite, a Nazi collaborator, and a believer in pan-Arab nationalism (he didn't want to fight Jews to establish a Palestinian state, he wanted to exterminate the Jews and establish a greater Arab Islamic state, a new chaliphate, if you will. There is a FASCINATING docu series in Israel, dedicated to the Arab and Muslim leaders who have fought Jews and Israel, interviewing intelligence agents from many countries. The ep dedicated to al-Husseini is unbelievable, and I wish everyone could watch it. It's available online, but sadly, only in Hebrew. The truth is, I don't think anyone can understand the Israeli-Arab conflict without understanding the role of al-Husseini in it, and how different things could have been, if only the more moderate Arab leaders in the Land of Israel at the time had managed to squash his influence, or if the British hadn't tried to "tame" him by appointing him to the position of Jerusalem's grand mufti.

This is the Belchassan family, 31 years old Yuval and Ofir, and their two years old son Tai.

On Oct 7, Yuval left Ofir and Tai to hide in the bomb shelter, and went out to fight off the Hamas terrorists. He and his friends saved their kibbutz, but now, as Ofir is due to give birth to a daughter, they have no home to bring her back to.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[squarebracketsmileyface]

how did you decide Birdie would call Tim papa, not daddy (assuming it's the single dad au Tim)?

Honestly it's mostly a left over from the version of PGPau where Jay lives and he and Tim raise Birdie together (there's now also a very rough version of that Au where Jay lives but vanished Brian style and shows back up in Tim's life years later with a bunch of stuff figured out. This fic has too many au's. So much for me trying to give 'the' au a name so I could keep it straight in my head, now PGPau has like three aus behind it, it's just anything post canon now, whoops. Oh well 💀)

Anyway, Jay just seemed like the dad/daddy parent, and that made sense to me with the whole trans Jay thing, Jay going from dad/daddy to mum/mummy was just too perfect y'know? So Tim became papa because of that, and then I decided Birdie would be 'canon' to Sorry It's Locked and went "well Jay's still gonna die because I love angst too much to give that up" and just ended up keeping papa for Tim even in the more 'canon' single dad Tim au because I just feel like it suits him. Y'know?

He just seems like a papa to me. He's a big loving mamabear to his very tiny very weird daughter, y'know? Ridiculously protective of her, if you hurt his baby he will rip your arms off, but also incredibly soft with her because she's his kid and she survived so fucking much with him even before she was born and he wants desperately to give her the childhood and family he never had. Even if that family is just him and her.

He's a mamabear protecting and loving his cub, except he's a guy, so he's a papabear but you know what i mean 💀

I just love it. Papa suits him, y'know?

Jay's dad/daddy and then mum/mummy, Tim's papa the whole way through, and Brian is Mr. Thomas then Brian, then quickly becomes bubba.

I love it. They're just all so cute.

Okay, I went off on a tangent about Alex here for some reason so I'm putting it under a thingybobber 💀

And with the whole "everyone lives" thing even Alex would probably end up with like, not a family title like the others, but he'd be part of their family in a friend way, y'know? Like, in everyone lives, everyone lives, y'know? And that includes Alex. And obviously he's not just walking around free, but I see him being in like hospital prison y'know? I can't remember what that's called, but anyway. He's in hospital prison and he can't leave because of what he did, but he's not in normal prison because he really wasn't in control of his actions when he killed people, not really.

At first only Tim goes to visit him, and even then he doesn't go super often because it's hard on both him and Alex (though mostly Alex). And he mostly goes because he understands what Alex was going through the best. He understands that if he hadn't had his medication he could easily have been the one in Alex's place. He wasn't "better" than Alex or more resistant to the Operators influence, he simply had people around him who could help (that being his doctors).

Then after a little while it's both Tim and Jay who go to visit Alex, still only very occasionally because, yeah it's a lot, none of them can really cope with seeing each other more than a couple times a year at first, but over time it gets easier and eventually Tim and Jay end up visiting him once every one to two months or something, once Alex's doctors or whatever are like "yeah I think that'll be okay, he's starting to cope better and relapse less when you come to visit him now. We genuinely think it's helping him."

They tell Alex about their life together and eventually Birdie comes up. So Alex knows about Birdie.

And Birdie knows about Alex because obviously she asks about how her parents met, and she asks where they went when they've had a day out, and they don't wanna lie to her, so they tell her about MH in the most kid friendly way they can, and tell her they're visiting this friend who's in hospital and can't leave because he tried to hurt people when he was younger. And like, obviously they are like, "we don't blame him for it, he was really, really sick and didn't realise that what he was doing wasn't 'saving' people like he thought it was" or whatever. They talk to her about the good sides of Alex, as well as very carefully addressing the bad sides, and eventually Birdie starts asking to go with them to see him. And like, at first it's a flat out no, because Jay and Tim have no damn clue how either Birdie or Alex will react to meeting each other, and even just seeing Tim and Jay used to fuck Alex up pretty bad and it took ages to get to the point they're at now. Like, they don't wanna undo that progress.

Anyway, eventually Brian comes back into their lives too, still the same way, with him starting out as a new teacher at Birdies school and then meeting Tim and Jay (well, Lark at that point but y'know) and eventually ending up dating the two of them and Birdie just kinda naturally migrated to calling him bubba, because it's not quite a parent name, but it's that same sort of sound, y'know?

Then like, Tim and Lark have been talking to the people in charge of looking after Alex and trying to figure out if there's a way he can meet Birdie. And like, with Brian back in the picture that's another thing for Alex to deal with so the whole "meet Birdie" thing gets pushed back again because finding out Brian is also alive is just, a lot for Alex, hugely conflicting and all that. Like, he's both glad Tim didn't kill Brian (or Brian didn't die running away from Tim whatever) and also very upset because he failed to "save" him. But eventually, ages and ages later, Birdie and Brian both end up going to see Alex too (after like, much therapy for them both to help them get ready for that, especially Brian) but like, yeah. Idk Birdie's probably like 15 by the time she meets Alex and it's all mostly fine honestly.

Idk I just like the idea of Birdie getting to meet Alex and it just kinda being fine? He's just a guy who got very sick when he was younger, and that changed the way his brain worked so that he couldn't fully comprehend the fact that killing people wasn't necessarily the best way to save them, that they could live with the Operator's presence like Tim had and still be okay. Like, it wasn't his fault. The Operator was literally changing the way his brain worked and without any medical intervention like Tim had, Alex was pretty much doomed from the start. He couldn't fight that. The operator was like a malicious, sentient, intangible tumor pressing on his brain and changing his personality, except it was taken to the extreme, because supernatural monster, y'know?