#the kids that survive are going to live their lives with their own “peas”. it probably won't be peas that reminds them ofc

[smonk-wonk]

Also he was reported saying this back in 2015! But fear not, he's not actually defending Hitler. No it's kind of far worse. He clarifies this. ” … My intention was not to absolve Hitler, but rather to show that the forefathers of the Palestinian nation – without a country and without the so-called ‘occupation,’ without land and without settlements – even then aspired to systematic incitement to exterminate the Jews.”

He is not saying "we should be like Hitler/Hitler was good". That would not go over well in Israel or literally anywhere. It seems he is saying "The Muslim is worse than the Nazi, because Hitler only wanted to expel the Jews, and a Muslim told him to 'burn them'". There's not even evidence for this interaction between Hitler and the Muslim man who was somehow worse than a Nazi happening, since Israel is allergic to providing evidence. But it would at best undermine the role of Hitler in The Holocaust. Hitler's role. In The Holocaust.

But a lot of Israel's propaganda uses the Holocaust and historically traumatic events to manipulate people (thought they said these comparisons were bad?). A big example is them even choosing to call the October 7th attack "7/10". There was a major historical tragedy in the west that is identified by the date of which it occurred. I can't think of another that we refer to in that manner but I remember an Israeli even saying that it gets the attention of people in the west to call it that as they can say that "7/10" was "their 9/11". They're using what many still remember as a traumatic event and period in which they were very afraid to manipulate them emotionally. They know this works because they do it all the time.

To my understanding and what I've seen reported from those who are from Israel and had to unlearn some of the hateful narratives they grew up with, the government has a habit of using The Holocaust against their predominantly Jewish population to go "remember that? Yeah that's what's gonna happen again, that's what they want to do to us. Do we want to let them do that again? Or are we gonna fight back this time no matter the cost so we're not telling our children the stories our grandparents told us?". Fear mongering manipulation tactics

And ironically things like hearing Palestinians talk about the lack of food and seeing how emotional they get over a bag of flour or rice feels reminiscent of stories I was told about my family members being malnourished and enslaved during The Holocaust. Their diet consisted of split pea soup and on rare occasions, bread. Sometimes they'd cry when they got bread because it was finally a filling carbohydrate, something most of us get all the fucking time. For the rest of their lives they couldn't eat peas, at all. As in they'd had an extreme trauma reaction when mistakenly served them at a restaurant because it tasted like enslavement and watching their families die.

What happened to "never again" exactly? This is literally the same thing and honestly a lot of it is so much worse than anything I've been told or would imagine I could hear from people who survived even the biggest genocide in our history. When people say it's insulting to compare this to The Holocaust I don't believe for a second that they actually give a shit whether it's insulting to the dead and those who lived it. It's something worse to them- insulting to them and their feelings and beliefs but hopefully, insinuating that you're disrespecting a traumatic part of history might shut you up. If it doesn't, the next tactic is normally to call you antisemitic (I have not once mentioned Jews before having that word thrown at me btw). They don't have a better argument than that most of the time. But I think the most disrespectful thing I could do- that anyone can do right now is to point at the people going through another genocide and say that they as Palestinians and predominantly Muslims as Netanyahu identified the man, are worse than Hitler.

Do not do not do NOT let people tell you you're disrespecting Holocaust victims & survivors for speaking out against another massive genocide. They'll remind you how many died and that less people have died in Gaza but it's been 4 months. Are we supposed to wait years for it to wipe out a specific amount of people before we can compare it and try to stop it? Not only is it acceptable to compare the genocide in Gaza to The Holocaust but we need to. That's what it's there for, why we want to remember the people that died and how and why it happened and who did it. It's not there to weaponize and use to say "Palestinians are worse! If you support them you are worse!" It's there so that we don't let it happen again. Because it's happening again

If this doesnt yell that Satanyahu has a boner for hitler idk what does. They are copying everything the nazi germany did. Thats why I will be saying forever that israel is the new nazi germany and zionists are nazies.

Nobody in their right mind woud be defending hitler, ever. There will be day when israel has to pay for what they have done.

[derangedanomaly]

Hello! Can I please request headcanons for Horror!Sans that has adopted a baby girl with his s/o? Thank you, hope you are doing well :)

Thank you for the request! I hope you're also doing well! Hope it's to your liking :)

Masterlist

Horror adoption a girl with his s/o

Horror always wanted kids, but he didn't wanted to bring his child into the world he currently lives in. :(

He couldn't bare to see his younglings try to survive and fight for their life everyday.

After he got to the point when he gave up, he completely threw that little unfulfilled wish out the window. Thinking that no one could ever love someone like him.

Until you came into his life :)

It was truly a full on luck, that he actually found you. Nightmare gave him a mission to go rampage this one particular AU, and guess who he found there, in the corner, wanting to defend yourself with a spatula? You.

He didn't know why, at that time, but he actually.. spared you. He spared you and took you to Nightmare. He also didn't know why he lied to Nightmare at that time, that you were "super powerful" and "great at combat". Call it a sixth sense, but his conscience was just telling him to do these things.

The two of you got closer, up to the point where you got married. The two of you were a wonderful pair, truly two peas in a pod!

Horror always admired how "motherly" you seemed to be. You often looked after the gang, since Nightmare was more "the shouting" and "scolding type".

Soon, his wish of wanting a kid returned the more he was with you.

He blurted it out one day, that he wanted to have a child with you. You weren't opposed to the idea, so you agreed. He was overjoyed to hear that response from you! He was actually really nervous about your answer.

And you two decided to adopt a little girl! This was a once in a lifetime opportunity for Horror, he never believed he would actually achieve this dream of this!

Horror, despite not knowing much about kids, IS A REALLY GOOD FATHER 🗣️🗣️🗣️

He treats his daughter as if she was his own.

He tries to keep sharp things away from the girl, HE EVEN BABY PROOFS THE MANSION!! (Nightmare will be actually so pissed 💀)

The others can't help but coo at the baby girl. Horror will even proudly show her off.

Horror will scold anyone that are carrying something dangerous. He cannot let his child die! By all means!

His brother will be overjoyed to meet the baby. THE BEST UNCLE EVER!! PREACH 🗣️🗣️🗣️

Nightmare would probably be the rich aunt or something 💀

Dust would be the sassy one, and Killer the fun one.

He truly is so grateful to have met you, and he wouldn't change it for anything.

[danyseastar]

Nobody cared that Rhaenyra was a woman. They cared that she was a violent narcissist who married an even more violent narcissist (and undermining the only reason she was even named heir to begin with), who would have gladly killed Alicent's children for existing.

see, imma stop you right there, “nobody cared rhaenyra was a woman.” so you’re saying that if rhaenyra was a man this situation would still have occurred? that alicent and her ilk would have had the support they needed to usurp the king’s first born son?

or! i’ll even do you one better, why is it that when aegon ‘won’ the war he named his opponents son his heir over his only surviving child? was it, mayhaps, because…she’s a girl? and that that would have defeated the entire purpose of the war? because women cannot inherit, right? according to team green, at least.

the lords of the realm who fought for the greens did not do so to protect alicent’s kids. if you believe that for one second you’re incapable of critical thinking and need to go back to elementary school. they did it because if a woman came into power (especially over the king’s first born son) their own power was at risk. it would’ve directly changed the status quo and led to women being seen as viable options for inheritance, and not just as a last resort.

personalities are not important to a feudal monarchy and make no difference on whether someone is going to become the reigning monarch. aegon ii (you know, the guy who was described as a drunk serial sexual harasser at best, and a child diddler at worst?) and aegon iv would be an example of that. this is also a history book, written by green-leaning maester’s over a hundred years after these events took place. you and i don’t actually know rhaenyra’s or daemon’s personality, but suffice to say that the majority of westeros didn’t care (53 houses supported rhaenyra to aegon’s 28), and that’s not how everyone interprets her character anyway (and goes to show you have no idea what narcissism really intails). you’re letting your personal bias affect the way you analyze this story. not a great way to start or win an argument.

i’m going to use quotes from the book so that maybe your pea-sized brain will actually understand it.

as for my half-brothers and my sweet sister, helaena, they have been led astray by the counsel of evil men. let them come to dragonstone, bend the knee, and ask my forgiveness, and i shall gladly spare their lives and take them back into my heart, for they are of my own blood, and no man or woman is as accursed as the kinslayer.

which refutes your claims that rhaenyra would have put alicent and her children to the sword had she ascended the throne peacefully or even before aemond murdered luke. mind you, she had custody of alicent and helaena when she took kingslanding and still didn’t kill them, despite you saying all of them were in danger. also adding that kinslaying is considered to be one of the greatest abominations one can commit in westeros. the faith of the seven, the old gods, and the drowned gods are all said to look down upon and curse those who would commit such an egregious act. there are also plenty of different ways for alicent’s children to renounce their claim to the throne (kingsguard, night’s watch, maester’s vows, etc.) that would protect them and not lead to bloodshed.

here’s a proper lesson for you anon: if you want to refute someone's claims you need to use facts and evidence, not personal feelings. so in short, you're half-assed 'gotcha' moment is just that. you added nothing to the conversation and made it quite easy for me to shut down. thanks for that.

[rolansrighthorn]

Get To Know Your Tav

Tagged by @voloslobotomyservice, thank you! <3 For this I tag @underdark-dreams, @faerunsbest, @dustdeepsea, @commander-krios (sorry if any of you have been tagged already, this has been sitting in my drafts for a long time lmao)

Link to my second post here.

I have two I would like to introduce but tumblr's text limit is forcing me to do two seperate posts. This post is dedicated to my OC, Daryna Stalwart, she is in her 30s and is a tiefling with broken horns (formlery curled), human brown eyes, and skin such a pale shade of pink it's easy to mistake her for a human.

What is their:

Favorite weapon? Daryna hates melee fighting but will use a scimitar.

Style of combat? Spellcasting, long range

Most prized possession? She was gifted a sending stone from Rolan that she will never let go.

Deepest desire? To truly love and be loved by Rolan and to have a very long, happy life with him. She also wishes the world to be kinder so he doesn't feel the need to be so harsh to protect himself.

Guilty pleasure? I have been thinking on this and I don't think she has one.

Best-kept secret? Daryna cannot keep a secret to save her life, especially from Rolan, Cal, and Lia.

Greatest strength? Rolan, Cal, and Lia are the biggest contributing factors to the strength she has to survive anything life throws at her. Avernus was the first big obstacle she overcame for them.

Fatal flaw? Daryna is very self sacrificing in the name of creating a better world for Rolan, Cal, and Lia to live in.

Favorite scent? Daryna loves floral scents as they remind her of Elturel/Rolan.

Favorite spell/cantrip? Guiding Bolt, sacred flame

Pet peeve? She absolutely hates when Rolan partakes in bad decision making and gets himself into trouble. Other than that, she has enough patience for to not find much that annoying.

Bad habit? Unintentionally dismissing what Rolan truly wants (her) in her insane attempts to try to protect him from the harshness of the world/make the world a kinder place for him.

Hidden talent? Daryna has the ability to knit and once she discovers this talent, she will knit Rolan and his siblings some winter gear.

Leisure activity? Reading books or cleaning up the tower libraries with Rolan. Additionally, she enjoys going out in the evening with him and walking through the parks while holding his hand.

Favorite drink? Daryna is not a huge fan of drinking but she will share a bottle or two of Arabellan Dry with Rolan if he wants.

Comfort food? Daryna's favorite food is beef with rice, green beans, carrots, and peas.

Favorite person(s)? The most important person to her in the entire world is Rolan. She would die for him, and she would die if it meant the world was a better place for him.

Favored display of affection? Daryna loves caressing against and curling her tail with Rolan's, particularly while they are sitting together or sleeping.

Fondest childhood memory? The day she met Rolan, Cal, and Lia is in her top favorite memories. Also the first kiss she shared with Rolan (not counting the one he playfully provoked out of her when they were kids).

Anything else you’d like to share? Daryna just has an incessant need to be near Rolan and to be loved by him, but she also wants the world to be a place he can feel safe enough to be in where he doesn't need to front as such an ass as he does and she is willing to sacrifice her own life for it.

[ritzcrackee]

my current summer tbr! rambling under the cut

Free Fall

"When an influential lawyer is murdered miles above the earth's surface, Captain of Detectives Rick Harrison reluctantly accepts the case. Harrison quickly finds himself at the center of a deepening conspiracy. Why did the killer use a mining laser, an unwieldy weapon? What is the connection between the victim and the powerful anti-android lobby? And the toughest question Harrison never expected to ask: what defines humanity?"

tbh? not hyped for this one. i bought it in a state of rushed delirium and i'm 99% sure i'll get 20 pages in then never touch it again. we'll see though

Sharp Objects

"Fresh from a brief stay at a psych hospital, reporter Camille Preaker faces a troubling assignment: she must return to her tiny hometown to cover the murders of two pre- teen girls. For years, Camille has hardly spoken to her neurotic, hypochondriac mother or to the half-sister she barely knows: a beautiful thirteen-year-old with an eerie grip on the town. Now, installed in her old bedroom in her family's Victorian mansion, Camille finds herself identifying with the young victims—a bit too strongly. Dogged by her own demons, she must unravel the psychological puzzle of her own past if she wants to get the story-and survive this homecoming."

i absolutely am extremely hyped for this book!! it looks like it's really similar to big little lies, which i really liked. v v excited

Snow in Summer

"Summer's life in the mountains of West Virginia is far from the fairy tale it once was. Not long ago she sang songs and danced with her mother and father, her cousin Nancy doted on her, and she had a new baby brother on the way. But the baby died soon after birth, taking their mother with him and turning Summer's life grim. Now things are getting even worse as her father falls under the spell of a woman who brings potions and magical mirrors into Summer's world. Stepmama puts on a pretty face, but Summer suspects she's up to no good-and is afraid she may be powerless to stop her."

i mostly got this to fill the neverafter shaped hole in my heart </3. and bcus i know i'm going to get tired of ya/adult books soon lmao

Afrofuturism

"In this hip, accessible primer to the music, literature, and art of Afrofutur sm, author Ytasha Womack introduces readers to the burgeoning community of artists creating Afrofuturist works, the innovators from the past, and the wide range of subjects they explore. From the sci-fi literature of Samuel Delany, Octavia Butler, and N. K. Jemisin to the musical cosmos of Sun Ra, George Clinton, and the Black Eyed Peas' will Lam, to the visual and multimedia artists inspired by African Dogon myths and Egyp tian deities, the book's topics range from the "alien" experience of blacks in America to the "wake up" cry that peppers sci-fi literature, sermons. and activism. With a twofold aim to entertain and enlighten, Afrofuturists strive to break down racial, ethnic, and social limitations to empower and free individuals to be themselves."

i've already read like 50 pages of this and it's so interesting so far!! i keep having to switch between it and midnight sun bcus nonfiction fries my brain @_@ the author is great at keeping ur attention tho!

The Fault In Our Stars

"Despite the tumor-shrinking medical miracle that has bought her a few years, Hazel has never been anything but terminal, her final chapter inscribed upon diagnosis. But when a gorgeous plot twist named Augustus Waters suddenly appears at Cancer Kid Support Group, Hazel's story is about to be completely rewritten."

let's go john green!! this is the first book of his i've planned on reading but i've had it reccomended to me a few times. hyped for a romance novel thats actually aimed at my age group lol

Lives of the Saints

ok the blurb for this one literally covers both side sof the sleeve?? and it truly tells you nothing BDJDJ. anyways the writing style reminded me of lemony snicket and it's only 150 pages? it seems fun but we'll see

Ain't Nobody's Business If You Do

"What are consensual crimes? A consensual crime is any activity currently illegal-that does not physically harm the person or property of another. The idea behind this book is simple: As an adult, you should be allowed to do with your person and property whatever you choose, as long as you don't physically harm the person or property of another."

this book is SO large. i mean 817 pages large. it seems like an interesting critique of the justice system, but tbh i just got it to look smart/hold up the clipboard my twilight books r balancing on.

Maus & Maus ||

"Maus is the story of Vladek Spiegelman, a Jewish survivor of Hitler's Europe, and his son, a cartoonist who tries to come to terms with his father, his father's terrifying story, and History itself. Its form, the cartoon (the Nazis are cats, the Jews mice), succeeds perfectly in shocking us out of any lingering sense of familiarity with the events described, approaching, as it does, the unspeakable through the diminutive."

i've been reading a pirated copy of this book and i'm so glad i found the physical copies!! i've already read maus but i read it a while back so i'll probably reread to prepare for the second one. straight up one of my favorite graphic novels so i'm extremely excited.

[freedomseeker91]

Heartbeat Song....

Chapter: One-Shot In The More Than Good Enough Universe

Title: Heartbeat Song

Summary: When Chloe experiences a particularly trying week, Beca surprises her wife with a gift that may just pull her out of her slump.

Rating: General

Warnings: Mentions infertility struggles, pregnancy loss and a termination. Please proceed with care. 

Chloe was stressed, beyond stressed, to the point she felt like she was surviving solely on adrenaline. It had been a trying few days to say the least. Her mother had called her earlier in the week to inform her that her dad had been taken to hospital after having a minor heat attack. He was fine, and the doctors had insisted that with some changes to his diet and exercise he would make a full recovery, but it had still shaken Chloe.

Being the only girl in her family she had always been particularly close to her father, the apple of his eye, the one whose temperament was the most similar to his own compared to her brothers. He was her hero, her very own Superman, and he was also the man who had cried the day he had given her away on her wedding day as he acknowledged that his little girl, wasn’t so little anymore. They were beyond close, two peas in a pod, Chloe’s very first best friend.

So, to hear the news had rocked Chloe to her core, because for a split second, she was reminded that she herself would be a parent soon. In a matter of months, she would have a little girl of her own and the thought of her father not being around to meet his granddaughter was something Chloe never wanted to think about.

In was in the moments after the phone call, when she had been comforted and reassured by her wife, that Chloe realised how lucky she was, because Beca hadn’t been as lucky. Chloe had been blessed with two parents who had been happily married since college and had raised a beautiful family, while Beca had experienced the disintegration of her own parents’ marriage, the absence of a father who had moved across country and married into a new family and ultimately, the tragic death of her mother.

It was in that particular moment as she watched her wife load up her favourite comfort show on Netflix and head to the kitchen to make a pot of tea for them to relax, that Chloe truly felt the weight of how grateful she was for the life she had been given. Yes, there had been moments where she felt like she had been beaten down and sucker punched, moments when she felt like she was being tested for reasons unknown to her.

Finding out that she couldn’t carry a child had been one of the biggest hurdles in her life so far and at the time it had crushed her because throughout her whole life she had felt in her bones that she was made to be a mother. She loved kids, she loved the thought of settling down and raising her own family, creating memories and going on adventures, watching them grow and develop and step out into the world to create their own lives.

But Beca had pulled her through, like she always did, like she always would. Because if there was one thing in life Chloe could count on, it was her wife. Because even though Chloe couldn’t bear a child, Beca had promised her wife that one day, one way or another, they would have a family of their own. Whether it was naturally or through adoption or surrogacy, Chloe would get to be the mother she was destined to be, that any child would be lucky to have.

When several years of IVF and multiple pregnancy losses had taken a toll on Beca’s body, Chloe had realised that even if having a child wasn’t on the cards for them, she could live just as fulfilling a life as long as she had her wife. The woman who persevered through torturous rounds of IVF treatments, who somehow found the strength to pick herself up and keep going after yet another miscarriage. Who fought for their dream even when Chloe felt like letting it go.

Beca Mitchell had always and would always be the grounding force that Chloe needed, and on this particular week, she really needed it.

Aside from her fathers’ health scare, Chloe had also been swamped at work with surgeries, interviewing potential new vets to the practice she now held a partnering stake in and on top of that, Beca had a scan to check the baby’s progress which had set Chloe on edge as they so often did. After so many failed attempts and losses, she had learned not to get her hopes up.

Even though this pregnancy had already surpassed the stage they had lost previous pregnancies, Chloe couldn’t bring herself to hope just yet, to the extent that it had been agreed early on that they wouldn’t tell either of their respective families or their friends about the pregnancy until it was next to impossible to hide it.

That often meant skipping social events during the early stages when Beca was too ill with morning sickness to pass it off as a stomach bug and avoiding any pool parties and beach days, anything that would make people query why Beca was so covered up in the LA heat while everyone else was prancing around in bathing suits.

For the last several months they had become house hermits, especially in a bid to hide from the prying eyes of the public, and though this had caused some curiosity with their respective families, they merely passed it off as being too swamped with work.

For the most part Beca was able to hide her growing tummy behind looser fitting clothing, baggier sweatshirts, t-shirts or an oversized blouse. However, there was a point where they thought they may have been caught when Stacie of all people noticed that Beca’s “rack” seemed more stacked than usual. They had eventually talked Stacie around with a lame excuse of Victoria’s Secret not being so secret, but they knew they were beginning to close in on that time when they had to fess up.

They had come away from their doctors’ appointment that week with the knowledge that their baby was indeed okay and was continuing to grow at a healthy and steady pace, much to their relief, and hearing the baby’s heartbeat always settled Chloe down to an extent.

At one point she had contemplated getting one of those at home monitors that would allow them to hear the heartbeat whenever they wanted, but Beca had reasoned that with their track record, it would do neither of them any good getting sucked into a rabbit hole of checking for the baby’s heartbeat on a day-to-day basis. It was a slippery slope, one Beca was sure Chloe’s anxiety didn’t need. They just needed to trust that this time, Beca’s body was doing what it needed to keep their baby safe.

Even so, Chloe was still tightly wound, and she could feel it in her body. There hadn’t been time for her to relax or unwind and the pent-up feelings of anxiousness that she normally managed to exercise out of her system, were wearing on her weary bones.

Luckily, she married someone who was well attuned to the many emotions of Chloe Beale. Yes, she was a legally a Mitchell, but in Beca’s eyes she would always be Beale and though she was proud that her wife carried her name, she would never let Chloe forget the name that made her, shaped her, the one that captured Beca’s heart all those years ago.

For the past couple of days Beca had been working on something that Chloe wasn’t aware of, something Beca was really proud of. After their latest doctors’ appointment, she had been inspired creatively and she was sure that this surprise would be the very thing to pull Chloe out of her anxious pit.

Stepping into the veterinary clinic, Beca exchanged pleasantries with the staff at reception before making her way down the corridor to Chloe’s office. In much the same way that Chloe had free reign to drop into Beca’s work place, Beca also had the same privilege at the clinic.

Chloe’s office was separate from her examine room, so Beca never had to worry about potentially imposing on her wife in the middle of an exam. It meant that even when Chloe was busy, Beca could hang out in her office and wait for her. But this usually only ever occurred when Beca made prior plans to visit, whenever she wanted to surprise Chloe she always hung out in the reception area.  

On this particular day, her wife wasn’t expecting her, but she knew Chloe was in her office and this was the kind of surprise she wanted to keep just between them. As she reached the door, she knocked gently and then pressed on the handle to budge it open.

Chloe, who had been sitting at her desk working on some charts on her computer was momentarily taken aback at the sight of her wife and instantly stood up, rounded her desk and made a beeline straight for Beca.

“Bec what are you doing here? Is everything okay? Is it the baby,” Chloe asked, looking her wife up and down for any obvious sign of injury or distress.

Beca merely grabbed a hold of Chloe’s hands and shook her head.

“I’m fine, baby’s fine, we’re both fine. It’s all good in the baby hood,” Beca answered instantly to avoid watching her wife have an aneurysm thinking up a list of potential bad things, and then lifted her hands so that they were resting on Chloe’s upper arms, gently caressing them.

“What’s not fine is you,” Beca said, her tone very pointed and direct, “you’ve been restless the past week and that’s not like you.”

Chloe sighed, knowing her wife was right, but she just couldn’t shake herself out of whatever anxiety bubble she had found herself consumed by.

“I know, I’m sorry, it’s just with everything that’s been going on this week I just can’t seem to get my head focused and it’s just, it’s exhausting me more than usual,” Chloe explained.

Beca smiled sadly at her wife before dropping her hands to lace one of them with Chloe’s and pulling her towards the couch, gently nudging the woman until the redhead was settled down upon it. Beca removed the satchel she had been carrying from around herself and placed it rather unceremoniously down onto the coffee table nearby before disregarding all the extra space and planting herself down in Chloe’s lap.

With Chloe’s left arm curled around her, Beca took her wife’s free hand and guided it under her flowing blouse and settled it right over their baby’s home. A couple of seconds later, Beca felt a fluttering in her tummy, her little girl beginning to kick.

“Someone’s happy to see Mommy,” Beca grinned, and Chloe’s face burst into a beaming smile.

“Really?” she asked looking up to her wife for confirmation. The baby wasn’t big enough yet for any kicks or movements to be felt by anyone merely stroking Beca’s stomach, but the brunette herself had begun to feel little flutters of movement that she was sure her wife would be able to feel too any day now.

“Yeah, she’s fluttering around like a little butterfly in there right now,” Beca chuckled, and Chloe’s hand instantly began stroking her wife’s stomach with more purpose as she dropped her gaze towards her hand.

“Hi baby, Mommy already loves you so much,” Chloe cooed, expressing both the emotional depth of the love she already felt, and the underlying cause of her anxiety. Fear.

The fear of losing this unborn tiny human she already loved with her whole heart, this beautiful miracle growing inside her wife’s body that Chloe had been terrified of growing attached to in case it was ripped from them yet again. But it was too late, she was already head over heels and Chloe feared having her heart shattered yet again.

And Beca knew this, because she had struggled with it herself.

The last couple of years had brought so much pain and grief for both of them, in fact, having to experience Chloe grieving the news of her inability to carry a child had brought up some guilt Beca had carried around for years over an abortion she had chosen to have at the tender age of 17.

Having to remember that time and reconcile her decision with the fact that her wife couldn’t carry a child, it had made Beca feel like maybe her choice had been selfish, because she had given up something that women like Chloe craved.

But Chloe didn’t see it that way, and not once did she ever fling that very fact back in Beca’s face. It wasn’t Beca’s fault that Chloe couldn’t conceive, it was just some messed up curveball life had decided to throw at her. And Chloe knew that the decision Beca had made all those years ago wasn’t one that she had made lightly or callously. She could never resent Beca for any of it, she loved her too much.

However, when Beca had struggled with IVF and carrying a pregnancy she had thought that it was karma getting back at her. If she hadn’t wanted a child then why did she deserve one now? But they had been reassured by their doctor that Beca’s past wasn’t a reflection of the struggle she faced with her fertility later on, it was merely life. Whether or not Beca had gone through with a termination or not there was still every possibility she would’ve struggled later as it was just her bodies make up.

But they were here now and Beca was determined to make sure that they both embraced the experience rather than dwelling on the past. She didn’t want the entire pregnancy to be a question of what if’s and living on baited breath, she wanted them to experience the same joy their friends had experienced welcoming their own kids and in order to that, she needed to pull Chloe out of this funk.

“Hey, I have a surprise for you,” Beca said, as she reached across to the coffee table and opened her satchel, removing her MacBook Pro and firing it up as she settled back into Chloe’s lap, swinging her legs up so that they were now resting on the couch.

Chloe watched her curiously as the familiar sight of Beca’s professional mixing software illuminated the screen. Beca rifled through some files until she found the file she wanted and loaded it into the software, her fingers dancing across the keyboard and mouse pad as she adjusted some settings.

“Remember how it cool it was when we heard the baby’s heartbeat?” Beca said, and Chloe nodded her head, a soft smile crossing her lips at the memory, fingers flexing across her wife’s stomach on reflex.

“Well, I got a little inspired and I found a way to pull the soundbite from the sonogram disc they gave us and well, I made you something I think you’re gonna like,” Beca said, gazing at Chloe for a moment before pressing play on her laptop.

The room was suddenly filled with the familiar sound of their baby’s heartbeat and Chloe listened intently when all of a sudden, the pattern of the heartbeat morphed effortlessly into the opening of a new track, a thumping baseline kicking in just as the voice of Kelly Clarkson filled the room.

As Chloe listened to the song progress, the lyrics began to resonate with her and she found her eyes welling up with happy tears. It was a love song, one Beca had created for her and their daughter. It was a three minute love letter that told the basic story of their relationship through Beca’s feelings that opened and closed with the beating of their baby’s heart.

It was, in a word, perfect.

“Do you like it?” Beca asked sheepishly.

Chloe’s opinion always mattered to Beca, especially when it came to her music and the redhead was all too aware of this.

“Like it? Bec’s I love it,” Chloe cried as she wiped away her tears, and as she continued to wipe them away, she realised that in those tears, her anxiety was expelling itself from her body.

She felt more at peace than she had all week and Beca smiled lovingly back at her.

“Good, because this track is for you and you only,” she stated as she pulled out her USB connection port from her bag and connected it to her laptop and then pulled out a memory stick and transferred the file onto it for Chloe so that her wife would always have it.

“Now you can listen to our baby’s heartbeat whenever you want.”

As Beca held up the memory stick between them, Chloe wrapped her hand around Beca’s and pulled her close, giving her a long tender kiss on the lips, before deepening it, beckoning Beca to give her more and whimpering when she finally did.

“I love you,” Chloe said once their lips finally separated and Beca shrugged her shoulder.

“I should hope so ‘cause I don’t let just any baby momma’s knock me up.”

Chloe rolled her eyes and nudged Beca gently with her shoulder at the comment, feeling herself finally relax for the first time in days.

As Beca glanced at her watch, she noted the time and began gathering herself together to get herself across town to a lunch meeting with an artist that was interested in working with her. She gave her wife another kiss on the lips and then departed with the promise of being home in time for dinner.

Once she was gone, Chloe stood up form the couch and returned to her desk, taking a seat and waking up her computer to find the file she had been working on earlier staring back at her. With the USB still in hand, Chloe plugged it in and once the folder popped up on screen, she double clicked on the audio file and waited for it to load.

When the music player launched with the file loaded, she beamed at the title of the track ‘Heatbeat Song’ and adjusted the sound as that same familiar fluttering filtered through her speakers and as the sound of her baby’s heartbeat transitioned into her wife’s carefully crafted lyrics, she couldn’t hold back the loving smile that brightened every single feature on Chloe’s face. And as she sat their engulfed in her new favourite song, she realised that maybe, just maybe, she could begin to hope and dream about the new life that would soon fill up her world.

[palindrome-alt]

offbrand Volo crackpost to honor a great pioneer that came before me

I wanted to link the fanfiction that inspired this, but I didn't like that tumblr automatically converted the link into a widget. But now that I've seen they have other great comedic Volo works, I'll just link their whole entire profile.

https://archiveofourown.org/users/AfrikanSonic/pseuds/AfrikanSonic

Anyway, wrote my own imitation Volo crack, because I so respect the artform. So glorious. Maestro of comedy. They do however have some explicit fics, so beware of that (that particular brand isn't quite my cup of tea either but I can respect the grind.)

I am beyond sleep-deprived, and swearing occurs in this post. You have been warned.

They say writers should give themselves permission to write trash. It's still dodgy but my mental warden said it's ok(ay) for now (and posting on the palindrome acc to keep away from my actual blog because I'm just trying to stay awake. Not even I know what any of this means. Posted at 12:12)

.

.

By whatever horrific agenda Arceus was pushing at in the name of live laugh love, you were stuck babysitting a not very cash money individual, otherwise known as Volo, your once-sort-of-almost-friend turned asshat.

As for babysitting, you really meant surviving half-assed assassination attempts directed at your person because Volo wanted to play with a very special pony and you told him no and he did not like that very much.

Other people would probably be concerned for you and tossing obscenities at his direction because you have the power of god and anime on your side but in the Alabama icelands no one but blue frost giant from the pea packaging Irida and the lady with the clothing that clips through spacetime even exists. What even is that. Girl no. Anyway.

Why doesn't Yahweh horse like his poser wannabe it's so sad that Volo his number one problematic kinnie dedicated so much trying to stan his one true father but he went to go get milk just like his other dad very sad L in the chat.

remember kids never meet your idols. Also cereal killers are not cute stop with that shit.

[biillys]

thinking about max and her having dark thoughts about billy and living with the guilt of it all when the worst truly did happen to him. 

like it wasn’t her fault and it’s never gonna be her fault but that doesn’t mean it isn’t gonna weigh on her specifically, especially those nights when she can’t sleep or when she has to catch the bus to school instead of getting driven or when she has to make herself dinner becos her mum’s never home now. 

and there’s probably always gonna be a little voice inside her head telling her she got exactly what she wished for. 

that maybe if she was a better sister, maybe if she cared more, maybe if she had done literally anything differently - maybe things wouldn’t have turned out the way they did. maybe billy would’ve survived, maybe he would’ve never been dragged into the mess in the first place.

but none of that happened, and instead he’s dead, and barely anyone even remembers his name, let alone mentions it. 

but then also thinking about how billy probably had similar dark thoughts about max, not necessarily in that context, but like. 

sometimes, on the shitty days, when he was fucking over it; wishing that his dad would just have a go at her, the actual problem, instead of him.

that maybe, instead of pushing him around for bringing her home late - pushing her around instead for being the actual reason they were late. he’s not asking for a fucking hospital visit, but maybe just something to make her fucking understand. 

he knows life isn’t fair, and complaining about it will get him nowhere - but god, sometimes the way she can do no wrong and the way he can only do wrong makes him wanna scream.

and when it finally happens, when he finally comes home one day to a subdued max and a tense neil, he wants to feel relieved. wants to be happy that it's finally both of them getting the full neil treatment, not just him. but instead he just feels guilty, like absolute fucking shit.

he tries to get her to talk to him, to give him a clue on what went down, but she's having none of it. pairs the bruise on her cheek with a miserable mood but doesn't complain once. does the dishes without being told and puts the garbage out even though that's usually billy's job.

billy doesn't sleep that night all. loses his appetite every time he see's the mark on her face.

the 2nd time it happens, billy's there to witness it. doesn't even realise anythings about to happen til it's too late. didn't realise his dad, who's let max run wild with her friends since the second the got to hawkins, all of a sudden has a real stick up his ass about max going out with them. turns out, she didn't either; she completely brushes neil off and gets ready to walk out the door before neil's voice rings out, stopping her in her tracks. billy knows the tone well, it's rooted billy to the spot, paralysed with dread and anger, more times than he can count.

max is at least smart enough to turn around and listen, which billy considers a win. she doesn't fight back like billy thought she would. was worried she would. hoped she would. instead, she let's neil have his shitty dad monologue, before she goes to push past him to hide out in her room. neil grabs her by the arm before she can get far, asks her if she understands. makes sure she verbally repeats the words to him before he lets her go.

if billy wasn't such a shitty excuse of an older brother, he could've stopped that. could've stepped in between, gotten himself involved, protected her.

but there's a phantom pain across his face, and flashing memories of his mom yelling at neil to let him go, holding up some frozen peas to his nose, telling him to stop involving himself when his dad gets like this, to keep himself safe, save himself.

and he knows this isn't the same, that he's the oldest now, the one meant to protect; but his own protector fucking left, and his idea of being a hero is messed up, and max is a big fucking kid that doesn't need her battles fought for her. max should know by now to listen to neil the first time, instead of brushing him off.

billy walks away.

(he never gets a chance to step in the third time.)

[mlm-writer]

Hero of the Swamp (Shrek x Jaskier)

Edit by me 

Pairing: Shrek x Netflix!Jaskier (Julian Alfred Pankratz/Dandelion) Rating: Explicit Words: 2893 POV: Third Summary: After being left on the mountain, Jaskier finds himself lost in the swamp and in need of warmth and comfort. Note: Y’all can thank @spielzeugkaiser​ and their amazing art for this. Sorry for the sloppy edit, but I really was not going to put even more time into this sinful work.  Tags: I’ve been a bad boy daddy forgive me father fore I have sinned, pre-movies Shrek, post-mountain Jaskier, angst, fluff, Shrek’s huge dong, size kink, cum shower, monster cock, blowjobs, rimming, cum eating and Shrek has emotions ok 

The growls of monsters lurking in the forest rolled over the muddy forest grounds and reached Jaskier’s icy ears. He shivered in both terror and response to the temperature. He told himself he could get off that mountain on his own, but who was he kidding? His frigid ears caught something in the dark. The bard bolted off the path, then later found himself in the middle of nowhere, chilled to the bone, disoriented, and, to be honest, frightened. 

He was looking for a path, but even that seemed to not be present anywhere in the vicinity. Jaskier rubbed his trembling hands together and walked on. Jaskier thought he should at last find some shelter from the wind. Just as he was about to settle for a random tree, he noticed light in the distance, warm like fire, inviting him and promising warmth and shelter. 

The fatigued bard all but ran towards it, the signs around the perimeter unnoticed in the dark. His boots sunk into the mud of the swamp, but he had his eyes set on the house-like structure in the middle of the swamp. He could not believe anyone wanted to live in this stinky place, but right now this someone was about to be his saviour. Once at what he assumed to be the door, he knocked on it. When there was no answer he knocked again. There were some angry, heavy footsteps, before the door opened. 

Before him stood a massive humanoid, skin green like peas, frame built like Geralt who preferred cake over his nasty potions. “Eh, good evening, sir,” Jaskier tried. If it was living in a house, it must be intelligent to some extent… right? “Could you please spare some place for a weary traveller?” The green creature did not look nice, even without its facial expressions. Some tension left its body after the question. Jaskier recognised it as a hint of confusion. “I’m afraid I’ll freeze to death if I don’t warm myself by a fire.” 

“No, get out of my swamp,” the creature spoke. It sounded like it was from Skellige. It was about to retreat into its home, but Jaskier put his foot between the door.

“Please, I’ll die out here,” he spoke dramatically, hoping for pity so he’d have a roof over his head tonight. He was not sure if he should try his luck with this creature, but at least it could speak. Wraiths had said less words, before trying to slice him. 

“Not my problem. Get out of my swamp. The only way you get close to my fire is when I roast you over it.” “Oh please, you don’t mean that.”

Jaskier had barely finished speaking, when the green man grabbed him by his doublet and pulled him close. His breath stank of swamp water and fish. His mouth was wide and Jaskier was pretty sure he would fit inside there. The bard felt like he should be terrified, but underneath a thin layer of leather and cloth, there was warmth radiating off pear skin. He wanted to lean into it, thaw. What inhibited his survival skills further, where those eyes glaring into his. Under bushy eyebrows rested two brown pools of warm broth. He heard the green man roar into his face that he needed to leave, because he was an ogre and he was going to eat him, but it was hard to believe him. 

Within those eyes that were so close to his, the ogre told the story of a creature that wanted to be alone, because alone was safe, alone was comfortable, alone was all he was used to. Jaskier never knew that, but after today, he understood why one would think that. 

“If life could give me one blessing, it would be to take you off my hands.”

It stung, more than anything had caused him to ache in ages. Jaskier could feel the urge to never make friends again, never love again, never lust after one he could not have. However, he refused. It was pain that made life worth living. Without pain, bliss did not feel as good as it did. The rain made sunlight so much more appreciated. The cold made fire so much more precious. The monsters made the witcher so much more valuable.

The human knew this, but the ogre holding him up by his doublet did not. Jaskier had wished for pity, but he pitied the other now. He clumsily threw his arms around the ogre and hugged him tightly. The ogre stopped yelling at him. Jaskier could feel the muscles against his body tensing up. The hand holding him loosened and he threw his legs around the ogre too, holding on and hugging him tightly. “You don’t have to be alone. I don’t fear you,” Jaskier spoke gently. 

“I am an ogre.” “And if you were really malicious I would not still be breathing. Please, just for one night. There are all sorts of dangers out in these swamps, especially at night. I just want to stay alive.” 

Jaskier could hear the ogre letting out a long sigh. “Fine,” he spoke, “but you have to be gone tomorrow.” Jaskier let him go, but not after planting a delighted kiss on the rough skin of the ogre’s cheek. 

“Thank you so much,” the bard exclaimed. He slipped inside, before the ogre could change his mind. The inside of the hollowed out tree looked cozy. It stank like hell, but he was in the middle of the swamp; what did he expect? “Do you like music? I have little to give you, but I am a bard.” Jaskier held up his lute as he grabbed the chair that had no food in front of it. One look at the giant slug on a plate and he was pretty sure he did not want to have any food. Jaskier pulled the chair a little closer to the fire and sat down with his lute in his lap. It seemed rather strange that there were two hand-crafted chairs, while the ogre seemed to be so keen on being alone. “Oh and you can call me Jaskier, by the by. What may I call you, my hero from the swamp?”

The ogre looked at him a little annoyed as he closed the door and sat back down to finish his dinner. “Uh… Shrek. You can play, but don’t sing.” Jaskier let the name roll off his tongue, before playing a calming tune. He didn’t speak, just let his fingers do their thing as he processed all that happened during the day, well it was actually more just those few minutes that haunted his mind. Each one of Geralt’s words cutting into his soul. “Eh… Jaskier?” Jaskier was pulled from his thoughts when Shrek spoke his name. He shook his head, before looking at Shrek. “You don't seem to be… you… you seem sad, well, what I mean is… I never heard such a depressing tune.”

Jaskier faked a smile. “My apologies, good sir. I’ll play you a happier tune, if you wish.” He diverted his eyes to the fingerboard, blinking away the tears he suddenly noticed pooling in his eyes. 

“No, you don’t have to. I prefer silence, anyway.” Jaskier looked up and noticed Shrek had finished eating. He stood up and started cleaning up. “You can sleep on my good chair.” Jaskier followed the ogre’s gaze to the fauteuil in the corner. He nodded. It looked comfortable enough. He had slept on forest floors with Geralt. This was more luxury than a regular day with the witcher. 

Shrek had some board and card games, which he seemed to enjoy to play. Jaskier wondered if Shrek usually played these games on his own or if he hosted guests more often. Neither seemed likely, since the games seemed to have gone untouched for at least a decade, if not longer. They shared a few laughs. Shrek turned out to be more fun company than Jaskier would ever have expected from an ogre. His jokes were terrible and sometimes a little insensitive, but he so clearly meant well. It was clear Shrek was not used to talking or any social interactions. He spoke like a young man still trying to figure out what was socially acceptable to say and what was not. Still, he was trying and Jaskier welcomes the vivid chatting. 

When they got tired, Jaskier curled up on the comfortable fauteuil by the fire. Shrek had draped a shirt of his over the human. It stank and was dirty, but it was warm and Jaskier was still low key afraid of getting kicked out to sleep in the mud, so he didn’t voice a single word of complaint. In the silence of the night with no one to talk to, words that were already spoken returned to his mind. Jaskier tried to block them out, but they bit at his brain, keeping him awake and drawing tears from his eyes. He curled further in on himself, trying to stay quiet as he sobbed into his hands. It just hurt so much to be discarded like he was nothing but a nuisance. Was that all he was? He was sure his songs brought joy in taverns, but right now the unlikely and unrealistic idea that everyone just pretended to have a good time was so overwhelming. 

The bard flinched when he felt a huge hand on his shoulder and arm. He looked up to find Shrek hanging over him in nothing but his smalls. He looked like he wanted to say something, but the ogre clearly wasn’t good with words. “I’m fine, Shrek,” Jaskier lied as he wiped the tears off his face, “I’ll just find the nearest town tomorrow and fuck the pain away.” The words had already left him, when he realised how that might sound. “And I’ll do that tomorrow, not because I think you’re hideous, quite the contrary, you might be the most handsome ogre to ever exist, but I just assumed you would not be interested in having sex with a human… male. Human male, doesn’t seem your taste, but it could be, I wouldn’t judge you. How could I? You’ve been a most generous host! I…” 

Jaskier almost suffocated as Shrek’s palm covered the entirety of his face. He got the hint and just shut up. Shrek slowly let go of his face, allowing him to breathe again. Jaskier looked away, cheeks red. He was blabbering nonsense to an ogre who preferred peace and quiet. He guessed it was time to sleep in the mud outside, however, Shrek wasn’t yelling at him… yet. 

“So you just have sex and that helps you feel better?” Jaskier nodded slowly. “I wouldn’t mind helping you feel better. It is not like I have had lassies lining up in the swamp… or lads.” He laughed a little awkwardly, making Jaskier laugh too. He took hold of one of Shrek’s huge fingers with two of his, by comparison, tiny hands. 

“Oh Shrek, you are such a wonderful host. You really do not have to do this though. I will still want to visit you again, even when you don’t want to fuck my brains out, just so I don’t have to think about some brutish asshole.” Shrek gave him a long look, before enclosing his hand around Jaskier’s waist and lifting him off the fauteuil. 

“It’s not just for you. It’s for me too.” And Jaskier wanted to read into those words, figure out the ogre with complicated feelings, but he had no willpower to. Shrek’s bed was firm, almost hard like a plank. It smelled like him, like onions and mud and firewood. Shrek tried to undress him, but his huge fingers couldn’t get a grip on Jaskier’s complex clothing. Jaskier smiled kindly at him, helping him without even needing to look at any button. “Can I kiss you?” Jaskier didn’t even reply. Instead he pulled Shrek’s head down. It was an awkward kiss. Shrek’s mouth was way too big and neither of them were very coordinated in the moment. 

When his clothes were mostly off and Jaskier was left in his smalls, Shrek kissed down his body, his huge tongue lapping at his skin and Jaskier could hear him enjoy the taste. He hummed to signal his pleasure, letting the ogre go about his business. Shrek pulled off his smalls and to Jaskier’s complete surprise, the ogre took his cock in his mouth. Jaskier whimpered, hands grabbing the sheets. Everything about Shrek was big, including his mouth. Even when the ogre sucked him to full hardness, Jaskier still didn’t feel the back of the ogre’s throat. Shrek sucked in his balls at well and Jaskier almost cried from the pleasure of having his cock and balls inside a warm mouth.  

When Shrek let Jaskier go, his length was hard, red and leaking. Jaskier barely had time to recover, before he felt that glorious tongue on him again, this time licking over his hole. Whispered pleas left his lips as he imagined that tongue inside of him. Then a thought crossed his mind. If everything about Shrek was big, what about his dick? Jaskier had seen the ogre’s hands and one finger was already bigger than the average cock. While he normally was down to go big, the imaginable size of Shrek’s dong low key terrified him.

His mind had no opportunity to freak him out completely, because Shrek’s tongue entered him and the feeling was so, so good. Jaskier moaned as big green hands spread his cheeks and thick wetness penetrated him. “Ah… ah Shrek I hate to be a uh… fuck!” The bard trashed his arms around when his new found friend started to stroke his cock at the same time. “I’m gonna cum! Way too soon, I know! Sto..aahh...” His whole body tensed as he spilled all over himself. Shrek was unrelenting. As the bard’s cock was spent, he still had his tongue inside him, pressing at the right places and wiggling around so talentedly. “Stop, stop, stop, it’s too much, really, too much.” 

Jaskier was out of breath, head fuzzy with post-orgasmic bliss. His whole brain short-circuited as Shrek’s tongue licked over his torso, cleaning him off all the cum he had spilled over himself. “Are you all right?” The green-skinned sex machine inquired with innocent eyes that did not match the absolute tent in his smalls. 

“Say, Shrek, will I die if I swallow ogre cum?” Jaskier almost laughed at Shrek’s expression. It was a ‘yes, no, maybe’. “Ok fine, but I will suck you off still.” The human pushed at the ogre, cornering the larger frame against the opposite wall, before getting on his knees. 

“With all due respect, Jask, I don’t think you can fit me anywhere.” Jaskier didn’t listen, pulling down Sherk’s white smalls in spite of knowing the ogre was probably right. As soon as 12 inch of green cock basically slapped him in the face, Jaskier knew he was in way over his head. Still, he was confident that if he tried, he could still fit the head inside his mouth. With Shrek still assuring him he did not have to do this, Jaskier started licking all over Shrek’s length. The taste was not as bad as he feared. In fact, the more he licked, the more he started to like it. Jaskier made out with the head of Shrek’s cock, fucking the slit with his tongue. Shrek was holding his shoulder, occasionally squeezing a little as he moaned. And oh were those delicious moans, primal, guttural, deep and vibrating through Jaskier’s entire body. 

The human tried many times, but he couldn’t slip the monster cock inside his mouth. He was resilient though and kept trying, while stroking the rest of the green length. He was so caught up in his quest that he didn’t hear Shrek telling him how close he was. He made a disappointed sound as he was forcibly removed from the cock in his mouth. Jaskier crawled back up the bed and stretched out his body. “Cum on me,” he wantonly moaned and Shrek did not disappoint. Jaskier had to close his eyes and mouth as he got showered in thick, beige cum. He never had felt this dirty, but it was a good kind. He wished he could have taken Shrek in his ass. He could’ve been so full. 

Once Shrek had stopped groaning, Jaskier dared to open his eyes. He could see guilt already spreading over Shrek’s face. He must have been a sight, so much smaller than Shrek and absolutely drenched in his cum. “Don’t look at me like that. I’ve always fantasised about being showered in cum. Just never thought that all that cum would come from a single person.” 

Shrek let out a relieved sigh and helped him wipe some cum off his face so it wouldn’t get into his mouth or eyes. “I’ll prepare you a bath,” he spoke gently, surprising Jaskier with the thoughtfulness. His eyes followed the ogre as he put his breeches on and moved out to probably get some fresh water. A laugh escaped Jaskier as he stared at the sticky substance covering his skin. Who would’ve thought that the swamp could’ve been so pleasant? 

[chonkychornes]

Stay Part Three

You’ve been a secret for so long, it’s hard to remember who you are. 

Dark Steve

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Part One  Part Two

@tinytotschafer

@iheartsebandchris

@vicmc624

@useless-creature-213

@thoughstofaredhead​

Entire days pass and you can pretend like nothing ever happened. It’s easier now that Steve seems to get that you don’t want or need him sniffing around, so now he’s basically ignoring you. Which is fine with you, it just makes it easier. 

Bucky makes it easier too; he’s been an almost constant companion while you’re feeling a little shut off from everyone and everything. You asked to be taken off the mission roster for a while and Bucky followed suit stating that you needed someone to keep an eye on you. Maybe you do; maybe you’re not fine. 

Denial is an easy way to forget your own wrongdoings, even for a short period of time. But when the night creeps in and you’re alone in your bed, you can’t forget and you can’t deny what transpired there. You can’t deny the part you played or the guilt you feel. You can’t deny the betrayal you feel or the emotional baggage that you carry. 

Deep down you know you have to come clean, but if you keep denying it, keep pretending that nothing ever happened, what is there to come clean about? Bucky says that eventually, the truth will come out. He’s been reading a lot of Shakespeare lately, so you let that one go; even though you know he’s right. 

Tonight, like most nights, you wake up after a few hours and can’t go back to sleep. Picking up your phone you scroll to the message thread between you and the Winter Soldier. 

You up?  You immediately cringe after hitting send. 

Is this a booty call? I’m kidding, of course I’m up.

You hit call not even glancing at the time and when he picks up, you’re grateful to hear a friendly voice, “What can I do for you tonight, doll?”

“Am I really that annoying? This isn’t an every night thing, is it?” You know it isn’t; just like you know he’d tell you if you were bugging him.

“ ‘Course not. What’s up? Can’t sleep?”

“More like I can’t go back to sleep. Wanna go raid the kitchen with me?”

Ten minutes later the two of you are snacking on leftover Chinese food and fried chicken. Perched on the island, you look to Bucky as he leans against the counter opposite and you smile at him.

“What’s that for?” he asks with a mouthful of cold dumpling.

“What’s what for? I can’t smile at my friend?” You throw a chicken bone at him and it tangles in his hair.

“Yuck,” he pulls it out and tosses it in the trash. “No, you gave me the real smile. I haven’t seen that in like a year.”

Ducking your head, your smile disappears. It’s been a whole year of lying and hiding. A whole year of being guilty and sneaky.

“Hey, don’t do that,” he says gently. “You’re going to make it right, right?”

“I want to, but I’m scared, Buck. I just want to pretend like it never happened.”

He sighs and closes the distance between you and rests his hands on your knees, “Can you live with yourself if you do that? Because the woman I knew would never be able to survive with that kind of guilt.”

The tears that you had successfully held at bay flow freely and you lay your forehead on his shoulder. He reaches up and rubs your back as you hiccup and drain yourself of every last tear when a throat clearing interrupts you.

“I didn’t realize anyone was up,” Steve says as he looks curiously between you and Bucky. You can’t meet his eyes, but you know he’s giving you that judging look of his and he’s formulating every question he can think of.

“Feeling better, doll? I told you not to inhale that fried rice,” Bucky looks to Steve. “I think she choked on a pea or something.”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you clear your throat for effect and hop off the counter and begin clearing up.

Bucky stops your hands, “Go back to sleep. I’ll take care of this.” You nod and head out of the kitchen, feeling two pairs of eyes on your back. When you get to the hall you stop and take a deep breath.

“Choked on fried rice, huh? That’s not what it looked like,” you can hear Steve with his anger bubbling beneath the surface voice. “What are you two doing together?”

“What’s it matter to you? You’re not either of our keepers. She needs a friend right now.”

“That’s not all she needs,” Steve scoffs. “She’s nothing to you or anyone else.”

“She’s a member of this team; she’s important here. How dare you-” Bucky doesn’t finish when you hear skin on skin. “Did you just hit me over some girl you just called nothing? I know the truth, Steve, and not because she told me. Because you’re a lousy excuse for a man. Why are you even here, go home to Natasha.”

You hear footsteps and move away from the doorway and into the shadows as the figure emerges. When you see the gleaming arm, you take your chance.

“Are you okay?” you sidle up to Bucky and look at his face for bruising.

“I’m fine. Are you okay?”

“I’ll be fine. I always knew, deep down, what I meant to him,” you grab his hand as the two of you move down the hall together. “Thank you for standing up for me. Thanks for staying with me. I don’t deserve it.”

When the two of you reach your quarters and you unlock your door, he squeezes your hand before you slip inside.

“You do deserve it.”

[krysphycookiez]

stray kids | you as the female maknae

synopsis: you’re the female maknae of the infamous k-pop group stray kids! let’s see how you get along with these eight chaotic boys

genre: fluff, platonic, imagines

pairing: stray kids x maknae!reader

a/n: wowza another female maknae au post- yes i have an obsession with these types of writings and i have no regrets. expect a lot of these extra member au’s for boy groups and girl groups

❦

you’re his smol baby child and nothing will change his mind

chan just wants you to be happy and he’s really good at showing that, whether he makes sure you’re always healthy or just doing daily check ups on you

if you don’t end up taking care of yourself he’ll get really upset and probably give you a long lecture

one time you actually cried because of his scolding because you felt really bad and he started crying too

if he feels like there’s something up with you and you don’t open up, he usually plans with the other members to do little things to cheer you up

and those plans work all the time

he knows how much you struggle with the idol life because of his own past struggles so he empathizes with you very well

if you’re an english speaking foreigner, he’d be very chaotic with you and felix

but then it eventually just turns into chan being done with you and felix’s bullshit

nags you sometimes but he just wants you to be careful- so for the most part he just lets you be

when your time of the month comes he’s usually the best at handling the situation (jisung i’m looking at you)

he also let’s you mess around with his tracks, but he makes sure you don’t do anything stupid. as you once almost deleted a whole new track

hugs you from behind a lot to remind you that you’re loved and a precious cinnamon roll

he’s a soft leader for you and it’s just downright wholesome

ngl you had a crush on minho during trainee days, i mean- just look at him for crying out loud

that silly crush soon disappeared and now you see him as a best friend

though hyunjin knew about this past crush and obviously tattled to minho. now you’re his main target for flirting

speaking of flirting, he always tries to make you as flustered as he can cause he just loves your reactions

he also initiates a lot of skinship with you cause you’re like a small teddy bear to him, also he just likes cuddling with you in general

if you’re part of the danceracha, you and him would start a lot of weird shit with hyunjin and felix

hell even if you aren’t part of that sub-unit you still find a way to cause chaos with minho

also you ask about his cats all the time cause you love them a lot, and that just boosts his cocky attitude even more

he gets very possessive of you when it comes to your guy’s friendship

cause he’s the type to say “no one outside of stray kids is allowed to talk or even look at you”

ofc he’s joking though lmao

you two are like an old married couple. a lot of bickering goes on between the two of you and that just becomes the butt of stray kids inside jokes

and both of you are very petty with each other too. like- you know when your little sibling hits you so you hit them back? yeah that’s the two of you

overall both of you have a really strong friendship, and other people get jealous of it pretty easily, even stray kids themselves

you took felix’s spot as changbin’s favorite member overtime

he’s your number one hype boi, he always gets pumped up whenever you do something like singing or rapping cause he’s amazed by your talent

probably let’s you toy with side soundtracks so he can see your production skills

overtime you have gotten better because of him, and you’re very grateful for that

he does a lot of aegyo with you cause he just loves you so much, and he also hugs you a lot too

you tease him about this height but he reminds you that you’re shorter and this leads to bickering

also since he’s not the shortest he probably rests his elbow on your head to tick you off or to get a reaction out of you

most of the time he gets a fist to the stomach but it’s still worth it

he also makes sure you aren’t overworking yourself, even if he’s one of the more busy members

if you’re feeling down the drain he buys you some of your favorite food and snacks to cheer you up, and it works for the most part

because of the attention he gives you, felix sometimes starts petty fights with you and the other members get easily amused by this. especially changbin himself

you also just find a lot of comfort within him cause he’s really gentle with you

and because he smells good all the time too lol

changbin is an equivalent to an emotional support dog. loving and very energetic

the two of you are l o u d asf

hence why you and hyunjin aren’t allowed to share a room together anymore. you had a laptop in your shared room and you guys would watch horror movies that would scare the living shit out of y’all

hyunjin likes to take you on shopping dates so both of you can either eat something together or go on a shopping spree

and mini fashion shows start too lmao, he probably gives you like a million clothes to put on

if you’re one of the main dancers, he’s the reason why you are able to dance as well as you can today. cause you felt close to giving up but then he came in and encouraged you to keep going

during his trainee days, his fights with jisung would scare you. one day it got so bad you started crying cause you didn’t want them to hurt each other

they then realized what they did and hyunjin was the first to apologize, even buying you your favorite drink to make up for it

he tries to steal your attention from minho and that almost results in his deathbed

no one’s stopping this boy from doing anything to get your love and attention tho

whenever you guys aren’t together you text a lot, and you guys send each other cute memes in the process

you guys are just like north and south you can’t stand to be away from each other

he also loves to cuddle with you. whenever you get a nightmare you usually turn to him to sleep with so you can feel the comfort of his loving arms

the other members know about this and they get jealous of that sometimes

hyunjin sees you as the little sister he never knew he needed, and he just wants you to have the best possible life he can offer you

let’s be real here, jisung probably didn’t know how to talk to you during trainee days cause he thought you were really pretty

he’s never basked in the beauty of someone so elegant before

the only time you guys really started talking to each other was in the skz survival show, and in that span of time you two grew extremely close (and if you ended up getting eliminated he’d get really sad)

he’s scared to let you into his production studio cause he’s scared that your clumsy ass would do something, but you never really do anything

if you speak english you two probably have weird conversations in english. quoting vines and inside jokes

on break days he takes you out to get boba and just chat, and usually in the morning when it’s less busy and more peaceful

he lets you take his hoodies cause he thinks you look adorable in them, and also when you give them back to him they smell like daisies

if you get hurt in any way, shape or form he gets very upset cause he really doesn’t like seeing you in pain

one time he caught you crying to yourself because of hate comments directed towards you and his heart shattered

he actually ended up tearing up himself and offered to buy you something to make you feel better

if you’re one of the main vocalists you and him probably have high note competitions, since the two of you probably had iconic high note parts

you also pinch his cheeks a lot cause you like how he just looks like a cute squirrel

which results in him pinching you back

jisung would cherish you like treasure since you’re so valuable to him, and you’re one of the reasons he’s able to keep going in his harsh idol life

a few simple words to sum up your friendship; a cacophony of chaos and screaming

you and felix just have the weirdest but at the same time also one of the strongest friendships in stray kids

if you’re a foreigner the friendship is even stronger, cause you two can relate more easily, and ESPECIALLY if you’re an english speaking one

also if you’re australian like him, the chaos is just even worse. a bunch of australian slangs here and there as well as saying inside jokes

he definitely texts you at 3am to talk about something he thought of or just to send you stupid memes

also probably infected you with his dabbing and fortnite phase

you also probably tease him about his sexy moments on stage, like when he lifted up his shirt. which also made you want to see his abs again

to get back at you he lifted your shirt on stage in front of STAYs to show your own abs and everyone went crazy, and he ended up getting his ass kicked

you two are also like emotional support for each other

since you guys are some of the youngest and had some of the hardest times you know when somethings up, so you two just go and hug/cuddle with each other to let the other one know it’s okay

and you’ve also come up with a way to communicate with each other without the other members knowing to talk about personal things, like a secret language

and if you didn’t have supportive parents in the idol life, felix would automatically connect with you cause he went through something similar

this guy just also wants you to feel safe and loved cause he knows what it’s like to feel so alone

overall you and felix are like two peas in a pod, very alike in many ways but will turn to each other for emotional support or just to feel better

dandy boy seungmin is such a little shit around you

he always teases you and always finds a way to tick you off to see your reactions, such as playing with your hair or stealing your clothes

so you being the petty little bitch you are, you do some things that will trigger his pet peeves, like make a room dirty or not doing chores

and that’s how you developed your evil maknae side, all because of this devil puppy

but even then the bickering isn’t always that bad, that’s just how you two show your love for each other since you guys literally don’t know how to be nice to each other

unless it’s about food or games, then there’s civil acts going on

seungmin actually likes to hug you because you’re like a smol baby chick, but it never really goes further than that

INSULT BATTLES ALL THE DAMN TIME

and it’s usually seungmin who wins them, but when you do win them it’s always a very witty victory

seungmin also knows when something’s up with you. if you suddenly stop acting like a savage around him he knows something is up

so he then investigates, comforts you and caves in to take you out to the mall to make you feel better

he doesn’t think he’s helping that much when those times come to you but he actually helps a lot, cause he gives of this comforting aura that makes you feel safe

also he smells like roses too lmao

seungmin is your pretty and bitchy best friend, but at the end of the day he will always be there for you

the two of you are the; done with everyone’s shit duo, at least when the two of you aren’t causing chaos

you and jeongin are very close in age, so naturally all of the members baby you and while the attention is endearing, it can get out of hand sometimes

so the two of you team up to pull the ultimate pranks on all of the members to get back at them and record all of their reactions

of course this results in scoldings and getting chased by an angry hyunjin holding a broom but it’s still worth it

both of you also compete for who can get more attention if you aren’t getting tired of it

and this can also lead to petty bickering that the other members watch in amusement (and they probably fucking grabbed popcorn too)

jeongin has a good sense of judgement, so he knows when the mood is feeling down

and he usually drags you to the side to plan a way to cheer up the members or bring up a lighthearted mood, since he knows the two of you would make a good plan

he doesn’t really like skinship but he finds it cute when you hug him or hold his arm

and the other members get pressed about this cause you’re allowed to hold his arm but they can’t even touch him with their fingernails

both of you have definitely tried to cook together

and fail miserably, which resulted in MORE scoldings and a temporary banishment from the kitchen, but the way you guys cooked was very funny

you made him a smoothie to make up for the fact that you got him banned from the kitchen cause it was mainly your fault

jeongin would be a more chill and laid-back friend, but he’s still very caring for you and will protect you at all costs

❦

a/n: waeeeee another one done! i had a lot of fun writing this and i hope you guys enjoy it as much as i had fun writing it.

also lee felix get your sexy ass off of my twitter feed i don’t feel like simping

this is @/krysphycookiez logging off... ♡︎

[oddsnendsfanfics]

The (Mis)Adventures of Kal and Moose – Kal-entine's Day

Genre: Fan Fiction

Pairing: Henry Cavill/Reader

Warnings: Fluffy Valentine’s Day

Rating: G

Length: Drabble

Disclaimer: a strict work of fiction, I own nothing except the original characters and the plot line. In no way am I affiliated to any of it.  

A/N: Because everyone needs Kal and Moose in their lives. Happy Valentine’s Day everyone! 

Henry Cavill Master List

Valentine's Day.

A day of love.

A day of romance.

A day for couples to declare their undying love, while single people sat at home with a box of chocolate sulking.

For the last few years, Henry was the latter. He was no stranger to sitting home on “the most romantic day of the year”, feasting on some chocolate from a heart shaped box. Although he didn't recall much sulking.

You on the other hand, were never one to celebrate or sit in on Valentine's Day. Even single, you found an excuse to go out for the evening. Oh the looks you would get, while taking yourself out for a fancy dinner.

This year was different.

It was going to be low key, but no doubt still fun. The best part, Kal and Moose weren't home alone waiting.

“I'm going to need you to do me a big favour, okay pig.” Henry glanced down at Kal who was sitting by his side, watching every move Henry made in the kitchen. “You and Moose need to be the best boys that you can. No mayhem this evening.”

Licking his lips and yawning, Kal huffed as his tail thumped heavily on the floor. He was slightly insulted, when had he and Moose ever caused mayhem? They were the most perfect best boys, ever! What did Henry think he was doing, talking as if they were a couple of uncultured stray dogs.

Walking along the familiar street, you glance down at Moose, sniffing along Kal's street he huffed and picked up his speed. Almost there! A few more minutes and he would be with his best friend, romping and stalking that damn green ball that made that atrocious noise every time it moved. Tonight, maybe, just maybe, they would finally give that thing what it had coming.

“Are you and Kal going to be good?” You ask the unconcerned dog. “Hmm? Play with Kal's toys nicely and not tear Henry's house apart?”

Moose snuffled, whatever that meant. Of course they would be good, they were always good. Ugh, humans.

Stepping onto the front stoop of Henry's home, you asked Moose to sit while you checked to see if the front was unlocked. It wasn't surprising that you would simply walk in, if the door was unlocked. Henry rarely knocked at your place, most times he would be in the house and standing beside you before you took notice.

“Knock, Knock.” You call pushing open the door. Moose whimpers and yips, tugging on his leash. Unhooking his leash, you laugh when he jumps forward nearly knocking into Henry as he tries to get to Kal. “Remember boys, make good choices.”

“Good evening,” Henry smiles taking your coat and hanging it. “I uh, I'm glad you could make it over.”

“Of course, thanks for inviting us over.”

Wow, this was awkward. As much time as the two of you spent together, it shouldn't be this weird or awkward. Biting your bottom lip, you follow Henry into the house, stopping on the way to the kitchen to give Kal a nice scratch behind the ear. He and Moose were already at home on the couch, a few toys between them, as they happily sprawled out.

“Be good, Moose.” You wag a finger playfully at the red aussie, giving him a kiss on the nose. “Wow it smells good in here.” Inhaling deeply, you take a moment to appreciate the smell wafting from the kitchen.

Henry smiled proudly, quickly kissing your cheek. “Spiced fish and coriander rice, with peas.”

“Oh my god, this smells like heaven. Did you make this?”

“Of course.” Henry laughs slightly. “I can't promise it will be the best, but I think it has flavour.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” You tug at the sleeves of your sweater.

“Have a seat? Sorry to rush you, but I wanted to get this on the table, while it's still hot.”

“Are you kidding? I will never feel rushed when there is food.” Laughing you grab the bottle of wine from the cupboard, along with two glasses and tote them to the table. The usually cluttered table is clear of all debris, a soft grey linen cloth draped on top, along with an arrangement of rather lovely scented candles. “I like the look. Going formal are we? Shit, I should have dressed up.”

“Non sense, you look lovely.” Henry chuckled, he had put more effort into the meal and table than he had planned. All last minute of course.

“And you look...” You glance at his casual jeans and tshirt. “I like that red.”

“Flattery?” Cocking his brow, Henry held back a laugh. Teasing you. “You feeling okay?”

“I feel fine, now let's eat.” You gesture to the plates in his hand. The fragrant smell is torture, it should be illegal to make you wait to taste food that looks and smells that good.

Seated, you can't help but sit inhaling the aroma wafting from the plate in front of you. Evidently Kal and Moose have picked up that it is dinner time, their respective paw steps coming from the living room. Attempting to look innocent, Kal slides in under the table his large body bumping against Henry's legs. If he is trying to be stealthy it is not working out. Moose takes a bold approach, sitting a few inches from the table he lifts his head and sniffs.

A low growling noise, he licks his lips and bounces to his hind feet before sinking back down into a sit.

“Moose, go.” You wave him away.

“Kal, stop licking my ankle.” Henry shakes his leg, Kal's cold wet nose hiking up the cuff of his jeans. “Kal, go on.”

“Moose, you know better.” Eyeing the dog you can't help but smile. “Worse than kids.”

“I would hope my children didn't hide under tables licking my feet.” Bursting into a laugh, Henry shakes his leg away from Kal. “Kal, go on. Go on boys, I will feed you after.”

Dejected and clearly starving, the two dogs slink back to the couch. At least they had tried for a scrap or even a scratch. Ending their plans, they sulk the entire ten feet that they walk. Poor dears. How ever will they survive? Knowing that dinner is waiting for them, you feel no guilt or sympathy. Spoiled is the only word to describe the pair of them. Worse than children, getting everything they want and acting like they are ignored when they don't.

“If you ever want to quit acting, I think you have a career in culinary.” You compliment reaching for the riesling that Henry had nearly expertly paired with dinner.

“There is more, I have a raspberries and cream or...”

“Wait, there is more? Oof, I may need a moment to let this digest.” You laugh lightly. Henry had gone all out this time. “You have really spoiled me.”

“I may be bias, but I think you deserve it.”

“Oh really? And why is that?”

“I have my reasons, all which are very good but escaping me in this moment. Trust me, when I say, I thoroughly enjoy getting to make you dinner. It's nice having someone to spend time with, especially today. It's been a while since I've had someone to spoil on Valentine's.” Henry picked up his glass, taking a drink of his wine. Licking his lips, he coughed lightly. “The last few years I have been making today all about Kal. Kalentine's Day, if you will. A nice bath, a good grooming, extra time at the park.”

“Sounds like a great way to spend the day.”  

“It may be a bit late for the park, but I could offer a nice bath. Perhaps a foot rub?”

“All would be acceptable, as long as you don't take Kal's approach. I'm not much into having my feet licked.” You can't help yourself, it sort of slipped out. Nearly choking Henry in the process. Wine sputtered from his mouth, avoiding spitting it on you, he manages a napkin. His face red and his chest heaving with a silent laugh.

“Noted.” He gasps, caught between surprise and laughter. “Well, dessert then?”

Henry had tried to clear the table without your help, as if. Little good did it do, the second he stood you were on his heels carrying your plate into the kitchen. He rolled his eyes, but didn't say anything about it. He had learned not to argue with you, it would be futile. Keeping his protests silent, Henry watched as you loaded the dishwasher, humming quietly.

Dessert plated, Henry motioned for you to lead the way to the table. As nice as the table looked, you were more than happy to relax on the couch - even if it meant kicking Kal and Moose, the poor souls, to the floor. Diverting course, Henry followed, the two of you chatting about the latest family gossips. He was telling you about his nephew Oscar, when you gasped and stopped short.

Nearly bumping into you, Henry caught himself and both of the desserts that he had in his hand. On the floor of his living room there laid the evidence. All around were pieces of red and brown material. White cotton stuffing littered the room and the look on Moose's face told you nearly everything.

“Moose,” You groan looking at the stuffing flung around the room. The Aussie looking innocent, yet the clump of red material in his mouth is giving him away. “You tore up Kal's stuffy.”

“Stuffy?” Henry's eyes widened. “Oh shit. Shit.”

“What? What's wrong?” You watched as he placed dessert on the coffee table, rushing the to tall shelf that sat behind his couch.

At least he still had the flowers, well shit. His face fell when he found them smashed to the floor and trampled.

“Well,” He rubbed the back of his neck, gesturing to the mess in his living room. “Happy Valentine's Day. I had planned on giving you a present, but...”

“Oh, Henry.” You squeeze your eyes shut. “I'm so sorry. I... Moose!”

“No, no. It's fine. It's not entirely his fault.” He glanced at Kal, holding the head of the teddy bear in his mouth, “There is only one of them who could have reached it. Eh, bear?”

“Boys,” You sigh and shake your head.  “Wait,” You glance curiously at Henry, giving him a sly smirk, “did you say you got me a gift? It's not my birthday. Nor it is Christmas.”

“No, but it's Valentine's Day.” Henry shrugged debating to salvage the gift or move on. “I wanted to do something nice, since....well.”

“Oh! Right.” You can't contain the smile that overtook your face in seconds. “I um, I honestly thought this was just us having dinner as...well friends?”

“And it can still be that, absolutely.” Henry nodded. “I don't want to impose or push anything.”

Stooping to pick up a few pieces of what used to be a teddy bear, you scratch Kal behind the ears and take a seat on the couch. "You're not imposing anything. I just didn't know what we were. Or if we were anything. I thought that I'd come over as a friend and...you know what, let's not bother with this now. We can talk later, sit let's have dessert. I am dying to try this raspberry cream.”

Henry sits beside you, reaching for the dessert bowls, to find one empty. “Moose,” he looked at the dog with red cream on his snout. “I swear to god,”  laughing, he hands you a spoon. “Care to share?”

“Well, well, well.” You take the spoon shaking your head, playfully. “Henry Cavill is sharing dessert?”

“They destroyed your present and this is the only dessert, the least that I can do.”

“I wouldn't be against that bath,” You scoop some of the cream from the bowl, “but no feet.”

“No feet.” Henry laughed, his chest rumbling and his eyes crinkling. “Got it.”

[snuggetfish]

Majidad family headcanons..? 🥺👉👈

Say no more 💖 This is LONG so I've put it under the cut!

First off, how many children would Majima want? Frankly, the man’s so happy to be given the chance at fatherhood in the first place that even just one would send him over the moon... but he wouldn’t say no to more. He’s paid enough visits to Kiryu to feel that twinge in his heart, hearing the echo of so many cheery voices around the orphanage. 

So, if it at all possible, he’d love to see his dream about having his own little cuddle puddle of kids become a reality. He’ll maybe slightly underestimate how difficult it’d be to take care of them all, but he’s Majima Goro, moulded by fate to be one tenacious bastard. He’ll pull through, somehow, with the help of a loving partner willing to go the distance with him. However, if he did only have one kid, you can bet they’d be spoiled absolutely rotten. You might think that the roles of good cop/bad cop would be obvious in a crazy yakuza dad+presumably civilian spouse couple, but think again, because Majima is a complete pushover when faced with cute puppy eyes. 

Extra serving of ice cream after dinner? He'll pile gigantic scoops into his bowl and then give up not even halfway through, sliding it towards his child. He can't really wink, but they get the picture. “Who in ever is gonna finish this for me?” Five minutes more at the park? Sure thing, they can have the whole hour and maybe Kiryu-chan might show up in the meantime too so they can... schedule their next fight. No throwing down in front of the kid! I think also once Majima becomes a dad, his priorities shift. Slightly, but noticeably. He still upholds his vicious reputation, but he isn't living at the edge any more, fighting through each day like it's his last, defusing bombs with little regard for safety. If surviving up until now was luck more than anything, with a child in his life, he's going to make damn sure it becomes a certainty. He's got something so very precious to stay alive for.

When they're still very young, Majima would be a great help in comforting them during the night. He typically gets back at late hours anyway and relishes the chance to spend a bit of time with his child, instead of immediately collapsing into a restless sleep like he always used to. If they're awake or crying he'll comfort them as best as he can, even with his whispered voice now hoarser than he remembers it and no knowledge of lullabies... but hey, pop songs will do too. 24h Cinderella anyone? Though if they're sound asleep, he'll stick to just holding their tiny hand for a while, feel it clasp gently around his fingers... 

First things first, the gloves come off, always. "Skinship" is a Japanese word put together from English that I think is great for describing the kind of parent-child intimacy he'd want. On mornings where can afford to sleep in, it wouldn't be uncommon for his spouse to find him on the couch, dozing on and off with the baby nestled on his chest. He's afraid of falling fully asleep and missing the tenderness of the moment, plus his nightmares are not something he'd ever want his child to know... So he'll stay like that, stroking their back and peeking through a lidded eye at his partner who's busy making breakfast. Also on this topic, an idea that occurred to me recently: you know how Majima's tattoo has one of the snakes' heads on the left side of his chest? Well... call him superstitious, but he'd only hold the baby on the right side. Can't have it threatening his sweet pea. 🥺️

What about once they get older? Well probably Majima would start waking up with unexpected “extensions” made this his tattoo, in black marker. Possibly some scribbles on his eye patch as well, which he’ll still proudly wear to work. And if you know what’s good for you, you really don’t want to be the one making fun of a Mad Dog that’s sporting a little heart doodle on his face. Kisses? Yes, absolutely. As we learn from Dead Souls, Majima would not shy away from smooching his child. A “good night” kiss, a “good morning” kiss, a “have a nice day” kiss when they’re off to school. One day the kid complains that his beard’s too scratchy and Majima doesn’t even think twice before he goes back to being clean-shaven. 

I think at some point they would also have to be introduced to the domain they're going to be ruling (though only as children!): the Majima Family. Nishida would be promoted to “designated driver", for a kid all too eager to ride on someone's shoulders while daddy's away in a meeting and the Kamurocho Hills construction site would be getting a new foreman. Their duties would include drawing on the blueprints and shouting words of "encouragement" at the men through dad's loudspeaker, whenever he needs a break. Bet Majima even gets them a little hard hat and everything, custom-made! Ok so it also doesn't take long for them to figure out a fun game to play with the new family members, a hazing ritual basically: show up on the day of their first office duty and annoy the hell out of them. Men were nervous to begin with, but now they're confused and pissed, like who the hell is this brat and who let them in? Kid plays the silent card: doesn't say a word about their name or their dad's, just keeps running around and getting in their business. 

After chasing a lightning-fast kid all around the whole office, Majima comes in and they think they're saved. Surely the boss has 0 tolerance for little intruders.... Though, of course, the intruder immediately runs to daddy and it slowly... very slowly dawns on them. Kid’s grinning from behind a leather-clad leg and the poor newbies have gone white in the face mentally counting how many fingers they're gonna have to give up. But it’s all fun and games... mostly. Of course a Majima descendant would inherit his mischievous nature.

But hey at some point, uncle Saejima comes back. Though Majima’s maybe a little reluctant at first, eventually he can’t but see the value of his kid training with his kyodai in the dojo. For self-defense, but also to develop their athleticism. Saejima’s of course happy to spend time with his niece or nephew, though... you know how in Y4 one of dojo's mechanics is that the students can just skip your lessons if they're not feeling motivated enough? Majima’s munchkin would absolutely do that. Slide underneath the big tiger’s legs and make a run for it! 

I think Majima would find it terribly endearing if the child at some point started dropping Kansai words here and there. And that’s in spite of Saejima chiding him that his own accent is fake and that the kid probably picked it up from the “real source”, a.k.a Saejima himself. Heh, dad and uncle might bicker sometimes, but they both make it clear just how much they love the little one.

Now, raising a child as a high-profile yakuza is obviously not going to be all rainbows and sunshine... I think Majima would love nothing more than to indulge in the cozy fantasy of being an ideal father, spending all his waking moments playing with his kid, putting his energy and creativity to good use, just generally making sure his son or daughter get the best childhood he's never had... but it's a fantasy for a reason, because he's grounded enough in reality to know that it's not going to work out as idyllically as that. 

He's fulfilled his and Saejima's dream of climbing the yakuza ranks, although it's come at the cost of being a notorious figure, with scars both external and internal. How is he going to protect his family? How much time is he really going to be able to dedicate to his kids? How is he going to keep them from walking the same dark path he has? Not a day passes where he doesn’t ask himself all those questions... doubly so on nights where he comes home to find that they’ve wiggled in his bed as well, cozy and safe in his partner’s arms. And it hits him that they’ve already grown up so much and he fears he’s missed out on so much, on making a positive impact in their life...

Ultimately, I don’t believe Majima would want his kids to grow up involved in the yakuza. Yet at the same time he can’t entirely hide his career. Maybe that’s a good thing because it teaches him that it's never as black and white as "if I leave, they'll be safe; if I stay, they'll die". One can raise a child to be strong and, above all, make their own decisions and carve their own path, even as a dad who's for all intents and purposes a criminal. The yakuza are, after all, a fact of everyday living, hidden in plain sight, given how pervasive they are in business and politics. A kid that's seen the flip side of the coin (within reason, because you bet Majima would still be fiercely protective of them) would surely be well equipped for life. It’s what he hopes, at least. If I thought the last ask was long...oh boy. I’d like to deeply thank all my friends off whom I’ve been bouncing these privately ideas for months now!! 💙💙💙 I didn’t think there’d be much interest in Majidad headcanons, but I’m happy to have been proven wrong!

[staliasjeronica]

Jabronnie + please wait your turn

“You know, I thought dating the owner of Pop’s would allow me special treatment.” Jughead huffed, slouching in his side of the booth. Veronica sat across from him, rolling her eyes lovingly. “I’m so hungry my stomach might just shrivel up like a raisin."

“God, Jug,” Veronica suppressed a laugh at his theatrics. “Tab’s on duty, what do you propose she do? Ignore the customers to take care of her whiny boyfriend’s appetite?"

“Yes. Because she loves me.” But they both knew he didn’t actually mean that. He’d never want her, or anyone he loves, to sacrifice their career for him. 

Veronica smiled gently, and reached over the table to squeeze his hand reassuringly. “Well, I love you, too, but I feel like having money to put a roof over our heads and food on the table is a little bit more important than you not being able to wait for her break so we can all eat together."

“As a successful businesswoman who makes more than both Tabs and I combined, you don’t get to talk about money as if we’re struggling to survive,” Jughead snarked, “and, besides, you used to give me free food and chilled with me whenever you could back in high school all the time."

“Exactly. In high school, where we were just kids and it wasn’t life or death if we slacked a little on the job because we didn’t have major responsibilities, we didn’t have bills,” Veronica sighed, sometimes wishing she could go back for a little bit and rid herself of the stress and hardship of being an adult. "Tabitha is trying to franchise Pop’s and you know that’s a big deal. For all of us. She can’t afford to fuck anything up.”

The mention of her and Jughead’s relationship back in high school made her smile fondly at the memories. Late nights at Pop’s juggling working and studying, sharing exhausted, sleep deprived kisses in the back on her breaks or after her shifts. There were so many memories here, so many big life achievements happened in this establishment and it wasn’t until just then that she was reminded just how much this place was like a second home to them.

However, after graduating, they drifted apart and split off into different colleges and created their own lives. They attempted to rekindle their relationship once they got a hold on their careers and such but something was always missing and they could never figure it out. Until they did, they couldn’t be together no matter how much they wanted to.

It wasn’t until they came back to Riverdale, seven years later, just so happening to come to Pop’s to brace themselves into coming back to the town they hated to love so much, that they had started to figure out what was missing in their relationship. They got back together soon after coming back, and when the same problems kept coming back up, Fangs suggested they try to add another person into the mix. He had the same problems with Sweet Pea until they admitted to each other that they were attracted to Reggie, and decided to try out being in a polyamorous relationship. He wasn’t sure if that would be Jughead and Veronica’s fix, but, hey, it was something to try, right?

And that’s how they got into this throuple with Tabitha. They had all become great friends after they moved back to Riverdale and she was absolutely gorgeous—and was into them both, luckily. A year and a half later they were happier than ever and going strong and had melted into this life that they loved.

Now, Jughead had recently come out of his writing funk where neither of his girlfriends would see him for, like, a week, and Tabitha was always working so he rarely got to see her. Veronica teased him for it but she understood—especially when she left for New York for business trips and had to leave them behind.

“Alrighty! I’m finally on my break. Hi, my loves,” Tabitha beamed, kissing Jughead on the cheek quickly before she slid into Veronica’s side of the booth with her food. “I arranged for your food to be here in about a minute.”

Tabitha kissed Veronica gently, yet the kiss was full of need and passion. She was great at those contradicting kisses—Jughead and Veronica loved it. “How’s your day been so far?”

Jughead exhaled with a pout, “what about me? Why do I get a cheek kiss and Ronnie gets a kiss full on the lips?”

“Please wait your turn.” Tabitha smiled back, knowing that making him wait would annoy him and make him act even more like a child. But, she planned something bigger, something better, something special for later tonight and wanted to keep him on his toes. “Since you’re finally out of your writing bouts where you basically disappear from the face of the planet, I planned us a nice, romantic, lovely night… so I’ll let the anticipation build until then.”

“I find that highly cruel and now I will assume that you love Veronica more than me.” Jughead huffed, though he didn’t truly mean it. A part of being in a polyamorous relationship was open communication and trust, and they had talked about “loving one more than the other” which didn’t exist with them because they all loved each other equally in their own ways. Sure, it was a little unbalanced at first considering Jughead and Veronica’s past, but the more they got to know Tabitha, the more it evened out. “At least give me a goodbye kiss before you go back to work, then.”

Tabitha laughed and nodded. “Of course, do you really think I could go so long without kissing the life out of you, Jones?”

“No. You love the way I taste too much.”

“And how you wrap your arms around our waists (EXAMPLE BC I CAN) when we’re in a deep kiss standing up,” Veronica added, sighing contently.

“That too.”

“I’m sitting with Veronica, so I kissed her first. But I’m hungry and on a short lunch break so I will give you the rest of my time in the end before I have to go back to work, okay?” Tabitha reassured Jughead, mimicking Veronica from earlier and reaching across the table to squeeze his hand. “Sound good?”

“Yes.” Jughead grinned, like a child who had just gotten his way. “So, what’s the plan for tonight?”

“It’s a surprise,” Tabitha wiggled her eyebrows as she began devouring her hash browns. “So you’ll just have to wait patiently.”

“I hate being patient.”

“So does Veronica, but you don’t see her whining about it.”

“Rude, comparing me to Veronica. Once again, you love Veronica—”

Veronica cut Jughead off, “ooh, did I tell you guys that Archie and I actually bonded a few days ago? It was weird, because we have, like, nothing in common, but he talked to me about Jughead.”

Jughead, in a span of five seconds, had dropped the petty, not-so-serious annoyance of Veronica cutting him off, and blinked in surprise. “You talked about me? Why? What did you guys talk about? What did he say? What did you say?”

Veronica laughed gently at his rapid fire questions. “Well, I don’t think I’m allowed to say because I’m not sure if Archie would want me to share a certain part of what he talked about, but we just bonded over our love for you, really. About how much you being in our lives made us better people, made our lives worth living just by existing. And he asked about our throuple and was genuinely curious about it, unlike some other assholes in this town.”

“I mean, Archie is the sweetest guy in this town. He doesn’t judge, so him being curious about it isn’t surprising.” Jughead said, “maybe I’ll go pay him a visit soon and catch up, answer any of the questions he probably wouldn’t have asked you.”

“Why wouldn’t he ask me?”

“Because he’s a gentleman, and doesn’t really know you. He wouldn’t want to ask the wrong thing and upset you or anything,” Jughead explained, “he’s gotten in trouble many times in our youth for not having a filter so I figure he’s had to work on it being in the army and all.”

“But I told him he could ask me anything,” Veronica pouted, briefly pretending nothing was wrong as a waitress had brought her and Jughead’s food to the table. She mouthed a “thanks” as she left, and then began to dig in. With her slouch, of course.

“Yeah, well, again, Veronica… you don’t really know each other. You two didn’t really talk at all in high school, you were basically just friends by association because of Betty and I.”

“Fine. Whatever. Doesn’t matter to me, anyways,” Veronica huffed.

Tabitha puffed out her bottom lip, “aw, babe, don’t be upset. I’m sure if he got to know you, he’d understand how open and trustworthy you are.”

Veronica gaped at her. “How do you always know what’s really bothering me? It’s kinda scary, actually.”

Tabitha chuckled, “because I love you, and I know you—both of you—more than either of you would like to admit.”

“Mmhm…” Veronica pursed her lips. “Let’s change the subject and eat while you’re on break, huh?”

“Right. Oh! I have five more chapters to write before I finish my book!”

[whump-town]

The Lies We Tell

Aaron Hotchner has been lied to his entire life. That’s the thing about good intentions...

Warnings:  abuse

The day that Haley’s family moved into the neighborhood is seared into Hotch’s memory.

He was pulled out of bed by his father. The older man slurring his words, heavily affected by whatever cheap liquor he’d been drowning himself in the entire afternoon prior. He had no chance to understand what was being said. He’d gone, regardless, in the direction of his father’s pulling to alleviate the pressure on his shoulder joint. Knowing too much of the pinned, awkward angle would spell misfortune for him.  

Sure enough, his shoulder comes free with a pop and a chocked grunt of pain-- he knows better than to cry out. He suffers through the drunken rant his father’s worked himself into, careful to keep his wounded arm tight to his chest. In the privacy he’s afforded, only after his father’s taken a few blows and has resigned himself to sleeping off his slump, he can reset his shoulder. Should he do it by himself? No. There, simply, isn’t any other option.

With word of the family moving in down the street, the Brooke’s, his father sobers up to put up his best front: loving father who day-lights as a lawyer and spends his nights beating the shit out of his family. That doesn’t mean that Aaron doesn’t manage to “step out of line” just as they’re leaving-- how dare he existed in his home. 

With his ears still ringing from the blow to his head, vision swimming, Aaron Hotchner stands between his mother and father on Brooke’s lawn. His father beams down at him, pride and joy in every area of his face except in his eyes. The only place it matters is the only place it isn’t. The family across from them doesn’t take note of how empty his father’s eyes are or how hard his grip is on Aaron’s bony shoulder. All they see is a family that mirrors their own:

A father, a mother, and two children. 

The Brookes are a good family. It takes years for Aaron to grow out of his contempt for them. By then, his father is dying and the beatings are getting worse. 

“Aaron--” 

He falls hard for Haley Brookes and for some reason she gives the world’s worse pirate #3 a chance. She starts to wonder how a guy like Aaron falls through the cracks. He does plenty of clubs and he’s as sweet as can be. His personality is a little underdeveloped, as are his social skills, and he doesn’t always understand current social things, but he’s funny, and he’s handsome.

And he’s got an awful home life. 

“Oh God,” she reaches for him and quickly realizes that was a mistake. “Sorry,” she whispers, taking a step back. She hadn’t expected the broken sob to leave his mouth when she reached for him. Sure, she’d noticed that sometimes if she reaches for his hand too fast he flinches away. She just hadn’t connected his bruises for… for this.

He’s shaking in their doorway, soaking wet from the rain pouring down outside. It’s too cold to let him stand out there for too long. 

She wracks her brain for what to do and with shaky inhale she forces herself to calm down. Aaron’s always fed off of the energy others give, it’s one of the first things you notice the longer you’re around him. His empathy is high. “Aaron,” she calls softly, extending her hand out of the doorway to him. He still has to step to reach her but that leaves their proximity in his control. 

It takes him a moment but he steps closer and allows his fingers to brush against hers. 

He knows Haley is safe. Haley will help him. He’s struggling. The line between pain and comfort is distorted. He’s scared and it immobilizes him. Rationally he knows-- he knows Haley will help him but he’s afraid his father will see. What if he hurts her too?

“Son?”

Mr. Brookes. He’ll protect them from his father.

“Son, what the hell--” 

Haley steps between them, seeing the way Aaron’s eyes light up at the sight of her father. He’s not in his rational mind. This isn’t his fault. “Daddy,” she warns softly. Mercifully, they pass between them an understanding. Her father hates the Hotchners and he distrusts Aaron and his motivations. But he understands this. He understands where the bruise swelling on Aaron’s right cheekbone came from.

“Let me help,” Haley whispers to Aaron. “Come on, you’ll be okay.” She offers her hand back out and watches as Aaron’s eyes pass between her and her father. There’s another moment, more hesitation but he finally breaks the gap. He trusts her. He’s always trusted her.

Once he steps forward, this time, he doesn’t stop until he’s got both arms wrapped around Haley. He sobs into her collar and she holds him. Pulls him close until he’s practically folded into himself to be at her height. To allow himself to sink into her arms and just be held. 

Haley’s mother brings in a bag of peas, cliche but the only thing they have to reduce the swelling in his face. Mr. Brookes stays in the kitchen, watching from the doorway as his wife and daughter aid Aaron. As uneasy as the situation feels him, there’s a stir of pride in the pit of his stomach at the side of Haley being so tender.

“Shh,” Haley runs her hand through Aaron’s wet hair. He flinches from the touch of the cold press to his cheek, pushing himself closer to Haley. She expects the movement and wordlessly takes the bag from her mother. “It’s alright,” she soothes and this time he sees the bag coming. He doesn’t fight it. 

“I’m right here.” She promises, “always. I’ll always be right here.”

He places his hand over her own. It takes him a moment to realize where he is-- laying in the Brookes’s living room with his head in Haley’s lap. Blinking tears out of his eyes he asks, “do you promise?”

Haley nods and presses a kiss to his forehead, “I promise, Aaron. I’m right here.”

That was the first lie she ever told him. 

___________

He makes it through training. Paperwork comes and goes. He can wrap his head around the cases that hurt the most but... he still stumbles. He’s not figured out how to hide these things from people trained to detect exactly what he’s doing. Jason and Dave are unforgiving. They push and push at his broken pieces.  There’s a moment, suspended, where he can recognize that he has exactly two options: fall apart or tell. 

And the time to make that decision is quickly leaving. 

The silence is building and while he understands that there is nothing wrong with the silence normally, here it is baited. Each moment he allows Dave’s question to go unanswered is another ticking time bomb that allows Dave to come to his own conclusion, however right they may be. 

Hotch doesn’t typically appreciate people getting into his head. He doesn’t appreciate anyone getting into his head. There’s a strange give and take with Dave, though. He’s come to understand a certain level of giving-- personal information as little as a review of his day or, from what Dave wants, an in-depth analysis of his childhood. These things equate to trust and… and, well, love. 

“Well?”

But he can’t say the words. They’re stuck in the back of his throat-- worse than choking. Exactly like choking. He doesn’t want the words there. He wants them aired out. He wants to tell Dave that his father hit him so badly once that he was hospitalized for three days in the ICU. That the hitting wasn’t enough. As he got too weak to hit, the verbal abuse was just effective. 

But there’s no Heimlich maneuver for emotions.

Just growth. 

“I don’t know what you mean,” Hotch doesn’t dare look up from the paperwork in his lap. 

The question had been if he was willing to tell Dave what it was that had bothered him so much about the family of their almost victim. Almost, being subjective. The boy had still been through the trauma of being kidnapped, it was just some cruel mercy he wasn’t killed. 

And for what? Hotch knew exactly what they were sending that boy back home to.

It’s the same thing he used to go home to.

Dave hums, it’s a specific sound he makes in the back of his throat and Hotch knows exactly what it means. He looks up and Dave just raises an eyebrow and shrugs it away. “I was just wondering,” he mumbles. “I also thought you should know that Jason called child protective services and I have a friend working on getting those kids out of that house.”

So he had seen the bruises.

“Oh,” escapes his mouth before he can bite it down. He nods his head and looks away, afraid of what he might see if looks at Dave for too long. “The father was unhinged,” he profiles. “Those kids won’t survive much longer with him.”

Dave nods, he’d come to the same conclusion. “Can’t imagine what it would be like to be raised by a man like that,” Dave says with a sympathetic shake of his head. “No one deserves that.”

Hotch refrains from nodding or even acknowledging that statement because he knows it’s meant for him. At him. Saying anything is admitting that Dave’s right. 

Clearing his throat, Dave settles his attention back on the road. They’ve got a long drive ahead of them. Plenty of opportunities to have this discussion another time. Aaron’s just starting to hope that’s exactly what’s going to happen when Dave glances over at him.

"When was the last time you slept, " Dave plays his worried glance off by looking in the rear view mirror. Checking behind them. But he doesn't need to be looking at Hotch to know if he's lying or not. The kid looks like shit. He hasn't slept properly in days.

Hotch looks out the window, leaning his temple against the cool glass. "Don't know, " he mumbles. 

Rossi hums. 

"Why?"

Rossi glances at him, for a long hard minute it's a battle of wills. With a raised eyebrow, Dave shrugs. "Just checking in on you, am I not allowed to do that?"

Hotch doesn't reply. He doesn't even look up.

“Kid?”

Dammit. He wants to keep to himself. He wants to just crawl into a hole and act like nothing’s wrong. His childhood was great. His father was a hero. His mother… but he can’t even breathe. Each inhale gets caught in his throat and he can feel panic setting it. He needs to get out of this car. “P-Pull over,” he gasps, fingers going to his noose-- tie. “Pull over!” 

He throws his door open, rushing out and toppling over onto his knees, gagging into the tall grass. A small voice in his head warns of the dangers of a snake, he did grow up in the south, but the way his stomach keeps cramping pushes that thought away. There are more dangerous things than a snake-- he used to live with one.

“Easy,” Dave mumbles from behind him and Hotch realizes he’s now leaning into Dave. Allowing the older man to hold him. “Easy, kid, just breathe.” Through each shuddering breath he pulls in, Hotch can feel Dave rubbing his hand up and down his back. His head is pounding, his ears pulsing. “Tell me next time you’re feeling sick, okay?”

Hotch leans back over, gagging miserably but unable to bring up anything with nothing left in his stomach. 

“Look at me,” Dave asks, handing him a handkerchief to wipe his face off with. “I’m not going anywhere, kid. You can trust me. I’ll always be right here.”

Two months later he retires. Hotch doesn’t even get two weeks’ notice.

___________

He keeps counting. Jason Gideon keeps counting and each time he comes up one short. The radio in his ear buzzes, body counts over and over listed for the personnel looking through the carnage. There are plenty of missing officers, a single swat agent, and-and Jason’s one missing agent. Possible missing agent.

Six agents in… If six agents went in then there should still be-- Aaron. 

Swaying where he stands,  Aaron’s looking at the ruined building before him. His dark brown hair is pushed in disarray atop his head. No amount of gel keeping his crazy hair down. Jason’s always found it an endearing, if not silly, thing for someone so serious to have. But right now he can’t appreciate the cowlicks.

“Aaron,” Jason calls, knowing how the younger man startles when he’s not expecting being touched. “Can you hear me?” The closer he gets the more blood he sees. It might not be Aaron’s. That’s a very real possibility but Jason doubts that the crimson stain on his chest is entirely someone else’s. 

Neither of their luck is that good. 

And Jason knows he’s broken his promise to Dave.

“Watch out for the kid, huh? He…--”

“Get himself into trouble? Yeah, I know. I’ll watch his back.”

Who was watching his back today? Not Jason. He let six agents die. He was stupid. It was a stupid mistake and now everyone else is paying for it.

“Gideon?” Aaron turns to him, confusion pulling his thick brows down. “I can’t--” he looks around them, to the smoke and the building. “I can’t find Morgan. He… I just--” He winces in pain, his left hand touching his abdomen and he pulls it away bloody. He looks up to Gideon, tears in his eyes, “I can’t find Morgan.”

Jason nods his understanding, keeping his slow approach. “That’s okay,” he reassures him. “Don’t you remember? I sent Morgan back to Quantico.” He’s close enough now to touch Aaron and he offers a squeeze to his shoulder. “He’s okay. He’s safe.”

Aaron sucks in a breath, it sounds like a sob but he nods his understanding. His knees start to give beneath him, no reason to keep fighting if Morgan’s okay. 

Jason catches him around the waist just as his knees cave beneath his weight. “It’s okay,” he breathes, shushing Aaron’s incoherent mumble. “You’re okay.” He places his hand over the wound, it’s easy to identify. It’s the only warm place on Hotch’s entire body. The strangled cry that leaves his pale lips rips through Jason. 

His breathing immediately becomes more labored, his eyes slivers. “Hurts…” his face is awfully pale. His skin is clammy. 

“Shh,” Jason looks motions for the medics running towards them to run faster. “I know, I know.” He tries to step back and give the medics room but the moment he moves Aaron grabs his hand. “Alright,” he settles back down, making sure to be out of the way but holding Aaron’s hand back. “I’m not going anywhere, I’m right here.”

The minute he passes out, Jason pulls away. He just can’t do it. He needs to get away.

Hotch spends weeks in the hospital.

Morgan’s there… but that’s because no one else can be. Their unit is dead. They have to start from the beginning. It’s just Derek, Hotch, and Gideon. And Gideon’s off… God knows where. 

The day Hotch is released from the hospital, Jason visits. He stands in the doorway of the room, smiling as Hotch and Derek argue while Haley stands to the side, obviously displeased. He’s always enjoyed Morgan and Hotch’s brotherly friendship. No one was faster at putting the other in their place like the other but let either hear someone else bad mouth them and they’d go down swinging. 

Derek wins the argument and Hotch lets him help him into the wheelchair. When Derek looks up, pushing the feet of the wheelchair so that Hotch can rest his feet on them, he follows Hotch’s eyes to the doorway. “What are you doing here?” he spits.

It’s unkind but Jason’s expecting it just as much as Hotch’s soft reprimand in the form of a Morgan’s name grunted. 

Morgan looks back at Hotch, about to start another argument but they share a glance and before either says anything Haley steps up. “Come on,” she motions for Morgan to follow her. “Just give them a minute.”

Morgan gives Jason the look. It means many things but today it’s a warning. If Jason hurts Hotch, Morgan’s going to do worse to him. Boss or not. 

“How are you?” Jason asks, settling himself on the edge of Hotch’s vacated bed.

Hotch looks down at his hands, nervously picking at his nails. He shakes his head, “I’ll be back at the office in two weeks but they’re not letting me back into the field until at least the end of the month.” He looks up at Jason, “ and I have to pass all the field requirements.”

Jason nods, “that’s good.” He leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees. “But that’s not what I asked.”

Hotch raises an eyebrow, not exactly playing stupid but not playing along either. “Mmm,” he looks back down at his hands, brows furrowed now. “Haley’s pregnant, she--” he looks up at the doorway as if expecting her there. “She wants me to transfer. Go someplace safer.”

Jason takes this in for a moment, looking to the ground. He shrugs, “it’s understandable. You’re going to be a father, Aaron. Of course, she wants you alive.” He looks down at the floor, in shame or contempt, or just vulnerability. “You’ll be safer anyhow, now,” he adds. “If you decide to stay you’re going to be taking the Unit Cheif position.”

Hotch’s head snaps up, “they-” He looks away from Jason, processing the information. After a moment, he looks back up. “They took your job?”

Jason shakes his head, “no.” He nods his head towards Hotch, “they gave my position to a worthy candidate, whose name I put in the ring myself.” He smiles proudly, “and I am going to watch him build a new team as his senior agent.”

Hotch looks up at Jason and shakes his head but he looks away, unsure of what he’s supposed to say. He knows he can do the job. That’s always what he wanted-- hell, it’s what Dave and Jason both wanted. He just wasn’t expecting it so soon. He’s not sure he’s ready for it so soon.

“You’ll be great,” Jason reassures him. He gets off the bed and crouches down beside the wheelchair. Leaving the two men eye-level. “There’s no one that could do this job better.”

Hotch feels pretty adamant about this. 

“Look at me,” Jason requests. “Nothing is going to happen. You’re a natural leader.”

Hotch nods.

“You’re going to be fine. Everything’s going to be fine.”

Two years later, as Hotch stands before Strauss knowing that the last year has been an unraveling-- a never-ending list of things that have gone wrong and reasons to fire him-- he wishes Jason were here. He shouldn’t have to deal with all of this alone. And yet he does. 

___________

The world was on fire. Flames licking at the side of his arm and the way his legs refused to properly hold his weight. His knees hitting the gravel and the sting of skin tearing. But he’d sat in something wet. Crimson. 

Morgan was there. He was kneeling beside Hotch, his hand on his shoulder. 

“Agent Hotchner?” He flinches away from the penlight in his eyes. Someone says something and a palm settles across his forehead, this time he can’t move away as the light comes back. “Can you hear me, Agent Hotchner?” 

Morgan stands up from his chair. He pushes himself between the doctor and Hotch. “You’re hurting him,” he accuses hotly. The doctor can’t refute that statement, Hotch is still groaning from the pain spiking through his head. He’s raised his hands to ward off another attack from the light, writhing as he moves his sore body to get away from where he knows it came from.

The doctor sighs. Of course, he understands the proximity of agents. This isn’t his first time dealing with government agents. Things are just becoming tricky. Agent Hotchner’s condition is critical and Agent Morgan understands that a little too well. He just doesn’t understand that his friend’s not going to catch his death with a doctor flashing a penlight into his eyes but he might if his concussion worsens or turns into a brain bleed. 

“Agent,” the doctor says, growing impatient as Agent Hotchner grows more restless. “I understand your concern but your friend needs my help.” He knows he’s won the moment Morgan turns to look at Hotch. “Let me get him something for the pain and we can discuss this some more, okay?”

Morgan looks over to Hotch. 

He’s crying, most likely not even aware of the tears streaming down his face. His hands are pressed over his ears and he’s turned over so that his back is to them. He’s managed to draw his knees to his chest. He’s entirely defensive, his pain is that bad.

“Okay,” the doctor repeats and this time Morgan nods. “Okay.” He steps right up to Hotch’s bedside, gently shaking the agent’s arm. “Agent Hotchner, can you hear me?” He doesn’t shine the penlight in his eyes, he just tries to get some sort of answer out of the other man. 

Hotch manages a grumbled response, it’s too soft for Morgan to catch but the nurse facing Hotch looks up and repeats it. “He’s saying he’s okay.”

“He--” Morgan steps forward about to make sure they understand that’s very much not true but the doctor raises his hand and Morgan stops in his tracks.

“I know, “ the doctor confirms. He leans back over Hotch, “Agent, I’m going to have our very helpful nurse Sarah give you some pain meds, okay?” He pulls at the back of the gown Hotch’s bloodied clothes had been replaced by. He frowns at the road burn he finds but doesn’t comment. “You’ll be feeling a lot better in just a moment.”

The doctor steps to the side and motions for Morgan to follow.

Hotch cracks an eye open, fighting the currents of pain trying to drag him down to watch as the nurse pushing something painfully hot into his arm. It’s clear and his slurred speech doesn’t stop her. She pulls the syringe free and he just watches, that intense warmth working its way up his arm and into his chest. It hurts and it itches but his eyelids start to drop. Impossibly heavy.

Derek appears out of… well, nowhere. Hotch’s eyes move to the left, following the direction from which he appeared but he’s too tired to move his head and really figure out what’s happening. 

“Hey man,” Morgan greets. 

There’s something about the face that Morgan makes as he sits down in the visitor’s chair that sparks a sudden memory. “Kate,” Hotch rasps.

The doctor had just told Morgan that any stress is going to be too much. That Hotch’s heart and body just can’t take it. 

Morgan looks up as the nurse tries to step between them, allowing her through. She places a mask over Hotch’s face, replacing the canal he’d worn just a moment ago. Worse, Morgan recalls, the doctor said he was getting worse. So when he sits down he puts on his best show. 

“Joyner,” Morgan says. “You mean Kate Joyner.”

Hotch manages a small nod.

Morgan has to think carefully about his lie. He’ll have to recall these details later, to make sure the others understand his white lie. More importantly, Hotch has to believe him without a shred of doubt. “She’s downstairs,” Morgan says, which true. He’s just hoping Hotch assumes the E.R. and not the morgue. “You don’t need to worry about her, though,” Morgan says.

Hotch nods, “she’s… she’s okay?”

Morgan pulls in a steady breath, “she’s okay.” He smiles and offers Hotch a reassuring nod. “Get some sleep, man, you could use it.” He reaches over and squeezes Hotch’s hand, making sure he knows he’s not going anywhere.

Hotch can’t fight the drugs any longer. “The others,” he whispers. Morgan can’t hear him. “The others, are they okay?” 

His breathing has become steadily worse and Morgan knows that if he doesn’t shut Hotch up soon they’re going to kick him out. Which may seem like a good thing but they don’t know Hotch. He’ll kill himself trying to get out of bed to make sure no one else is hurt. 

“Everyone’s okay.” 

And Hotch doesn’t need to know any more than that. They’ll catch the terrorist and he can worry about not dying on them. Because Morgan’s not sure he can handle anything but Hotch walking away from this. 

He… He will walk away from this, right?

“Rest,” Morgan whispers. “We’ll handle everything.”

A month later, with ears as healed as they’re going to get and Morgan by his side, Hotch visits Kate Joyner’s grave.

“I’m sorry I…” Morgan can’t look at the gravestone or Hotch so he averts his eyes to the grass.

It takes a moment but Hotch’s voice cuts through the cold air with the thickness of his surfacing guilt. “It doesn’t matter.” 

It did.

___________

Eventually, Dave leaves and Hotch is left with nothing but his previously raised question: what will his son remember about his in ten years? And no answer. 

He falls asleep. It’s not a conscious choice but one his body makes for him. He’s been awake for the upwards of five hours, pushing past the mental fog a little too far. That had always been a problem for him. He could push his body, and he certainly would, but eventually, his brain would catch up. And, just as it had today, would override his determination to keep pushing.

He wakes to the sight of Emily Prentiss. She’s curled up in the visitor’s chair that she’d occupied earlier. Despite the days unraveling, she seems as relaxed as possible. But, then, she’s always held the danger of still water. 

“You should have gone home with the others.” His voice seems caught around his sternum, lower and more agitated in tone than normal. Grumpy. He can’t help it. He’s not sure he could even smile right now if he had to. Not that there’s any reason to. 

He’s completely alone.

She doesn’t pay his tone or attitude much mind but when has she? Given the last two years, he knows she’s grown some traction with the team and… well, they’ve grown closer as well. He knows this with an unfailing certainty when she simply shrugs away his comment. 

Sometimes, they can really test him.

As she does frequently. 

“I did go home,” she clarifies, flipping the page in her book without looking up at him. “And before you ask, I even got a good eight hours of sleep.” 

He rolls his eyes, definitely something he wouldn’t do if not for the hefty amount of strong pain killers being dumped into his bloodstream. He knows he’s been beat, as he often is when it comes to Emily Prentiss, because he can’t disprove she’s slept or went home. 

She reaches up and pulls--what he assumes is coffee-based off of the container-- a cup to her. She sips it and glances up at him. “Besides,” she says, putting the cup back. “I’m taking the first watch. I have to be here even if you don’t want me here.”

He understands well enough. Taking watch is not a new concept but the notion that he’d be on its receiving end is. He also knows she doesn’t mean the Bureau has assigned them to set watch, they’ve decided it amongst themselves. It almost makes the pain in his chest… numb.

He averts his eyes, looking to the ceiling. What’s he supposed to say to that anyway?

“How are you feeling,” she asks, tucking a bookmark in between the pages of her book. She sets it down in her lap, her full attention coming to him, even if he doesn’t want it. “Don’t lie,” she warns. “Your heartbeat is being measured out for me to see and you’re not that good at lying when you’re high.”

Like he’s let his heart rate give away if he was lying or not… besides, they both know lying while high thing is true. He hates that. “Fine,” he mumbles, eyes still on the ceiling.

She hums, “fine.” Sure. He gets stabbed nine times in his apartment after a case sent from hell by a serial killer they have profiled and know will continue to stalk Hotch for as long as possible. His only family has just been sent away for the next to foreseeable future and he’s fine. Just fine.

But what’s she to say. Everything’s going to be okay? She doesn’t know that. Even if they catch Foyet, that’s not going to mean Hotch can still look at himself in the mirror. It’s not going to fix the physiological torture.

She probably shouldn’t but she reaches between the two of them and gently takes his head. “Aaron,” she whispers because this isn’t the time for business casual nicknames. “We’re going to catch that son of a bitch,” her conviction feels misplaced but he can’t even bear to look at her and tell her that. “And you’re not going to lose anyone else.”

He nods, not able to trust his voice. 

He’s exhausted. Too tired to argue with her. 

“Okay.” 

She sits back in her chair and they sit in one another silent comfort. A few minutes pass and she looks up and finds him sleep peacefully. Those brows finally having relaxed and his mouth open. She’ll be right here to keep the demons away and if Foyet decides to show his miserable face? He won’t be ready for the beating she’ll lay on him.

She just has no idea how wrong her promise is. 

Now, she can squeeze his hand and promise him that he won’t lose anyone else. And he doesn’t for a few months. 

Then she finds him crouched over Foyet’s dead body and Ian Doyle claws his way from the grave. 

And he has to bury her. 

He looses her too. 

[gyllenhaalstories]

BEST FRIEND!JAKE GYLLENHAAL HEADCANONS

notes: jake and you are bffs, that’s it, that’s the tweet! warnings: some mentions of sexual content, but it’s pretty clean and safe otherwise! the gifs were in a gif hunt so i don’t know who made them unfortunately! i suggest you listen to tongue tied by grouplove or dog days are over by florence + the machine!  i hope you guys enjoy! <3

Your friendship happened so out of the blue. You were at the grocery store with a friend and you picked some product up, reading the informations about it. You exclaimed “this comes from Canada”, you know, as one does while realizing Canada is a real country and not just a fantasy where everyone lives in igloos and chop wood and like wish Justin Trudeau good night. Your friend shrugged, very bored, but you heard a voice behind you. “Actually, I have some cool theory about Canada. Do you know the Ryans? Gosling and Reynolds? Well...”

“Canada had sex with America and they made the two of them and they’re twins and they tried to eat each other in the womb, but they didn’t, they survived...” You both spoke in sync. You turned around, only to realize that Jake Gyllenhaal was the one radiating even more chaotic energy than you.

It was signed, sealed and delivered.

You two were painful to be around. You would go on some random conspiracy theories of your own creation (you know Strawberry Shortcakes, like the toys and the shows for kids? Well they’re just Bratz dolls except for Bratz dolls, somebody confused the sugar with the salt and they ended up without feet and with some very large heads). You would argue about everything and nothing.

It was a 0 to 100 real quick.

You could be watching a movie at the cinema with a few friends, staying silent the whole time until you got back in the car and you just exploded with thoughts about the movie. You two were screaming so loud the driver of the car had to pull by the side of the road to try and keep you quiet like two angry children.

That’s what you two were: two very annoying children.

In Jake’s and yours opinion, you never argued. You just shared thoughts with a strong passion.

You could call each other names, but you never meant the insults you were saying.

“You can go suck a fuck”, “Tell me Y/N, how exactly does one suck a fuck? I’m all years”

Laughter. You guys laughed all the time together. No, wait, you laughed and Jake just wheezed. You took him to see a doctor once, you managed to convince him he might have a condition because no one ever wheezes THAT MUCH but it turns out you just both suffered from a great sense of humour.

For the first couple of months, your friendship was so filled with arguments and chaos that your mutuals thought you two actually hated each other.

But it could not be more wrong.

Jake and you were inseparable. You’d do everything and nothing together. You’d stop at the convenience store, share the newspaper, have a karaoke night (you were two Britney Spears stans), buy gifts for your respective relatives (you suspected that your own mother preferred your friend Jake to you). You spent the Holidays together. New Years, Valentine’s Day, even Halloween. You would host Halloween parties at your house. There would be only the two of you wearing matching costumes you made with clothes and craft supplies around the house. You both looked horrible, but you ate way too many candies to realize it.

You were attached by the hip. Wherever Jake went, you were there too.

At some point, you lost your job. It happens to the best of us. So Jake suggested you’d become his assistant.

In theory, it was a beautiful idea. You knew Jake’s schedule by heart and did everything together. Being paid for it? Sign me up.

But in practice...

It created some sort of tension between the two of you. It was one more reason to depend on Jake, and for Jake to depend on you. You were two peas in a pod but you had to manage the new pressure.

During red carpets you were hiding behind the interviewer or by his sides, taping your wrist to remind him to go faster and cut the long analytical speeches nobody really cared about. Except for you, you loved how insightful he was and how he rarely showed this side of his personality.

He knew when you were tired to just sit and watch the same people win awards for similar roles they did in other movies before.

Jake would lean in and say “Actually, I think Meryl Streep is a wizard, like the nice type, and she hides magical potions in her purse that can make you fly and don’t even get me started on Julia Roberts...”. You were too far gone, laughing so loud during an emotional speech when a not very talented celebrity won over very talented celebrities that deserved it more or during a movie premiere.

You would hold hands. For funsies.

He’d give you his jacket. He’d feed you a spoon of his food at the restaurant. You’d give him a sip of your hot chocolate on a cold winter evening. You’d share your comfy slippers with him even if his feet were too big and barely fit in.

Life without Jake? You simply did not remember what it was like.

Your mutual friends stopped calling you two enemies. You were straight up a married couple.

You’d go grocery shopping together and Jake would push the caddy around while you guide him through the aisles. “Could make you this dish, I know you like it” he’d suggest. “The oreos are on sale? Must get six packs of them, double stuff only” you’d add.

You’d go on car rides. They lead nowhere: a dead end street, a bridge under construction, a small ghost town. You both just sat there and listened to music.

His hand would mysteriously fall on your thigh and just stay there the whole way back.

And you’d give each other shy looks.

And giggle. And chuckle. And drop your keys by the front door, oopsies you were all of a sudden clumsy.

And when the door was closed behind you, you stared into each other’s eyes and just shrugged before ripping each other’s clothes at the speed of light and fucking on the couch, on the kitchen table or even on the floor. The bed was too far away.

You both had seen each other naked so many times it was not intimidating. You knew he was handsome, he knew you were beautiful. That was all you guys needed to know. But there were new infos to take in consideration: in bed, you two were just powerful. So you slept together again.

Again and again and again...

It did not bother any of you. Your friends did not even find out about it. Everything was fine.

Everything was fine until you went on a date with someone else. Two times, three times... It was starting to get serious.

Jake felt so weird. He hid it from you.

He caressed your hair when you cried as your new fling just broke up with you over text messages. He fed you your favourite ice cream while you two cuddled on the couch, trying to heal the pain with a wholesome Disney movie. He helped you get in the shower when you were too sad or too tired. He supported you.

He cared for you.

He loved you.

And he told you.

That one time he helped you get in the bathtub after you insisted you could go to the gym with him and he literally crushed you not even five minutes in. You were sore and tired and you thought you hallucinated when you heard the words: I love you.

He thought he was having a fever dream when you replied: I love you too.