#they're so big and... i'm leaving it at that

[shieldfoss]

God.

Under the cut:

Too bad we don't know because the people who did this are not interested in the truth, they're interested in getting a high number they can use for shock value and to score political points.

"Wife replacement" gets long so I'm replacing it with the letters "HA" for "home assistant."

"How much would it cost to hire an HA" is a really interesting question, and also gets you to secondary interesting sub-questions like "how much of a savings would there be if the HA lived in the same home, such that some of the labor is also 'for themself' and gets discounted to half price, and some of the salary is paid in food and lodging?" and "how much of this is actually exclusively 'for themself' and would get discounted to zero?" along with "How much would you actually pay a premium for because the HA gets to know you better than anybody else and can do the work for you better than anybody else?" Oh, and a favorite that I sometimes think about: "How much does the HA's labor free you up to do other labor you currently don't have the time/energy for, such that even paying them to do it, you end up ahead?"

Too bad we don't know because the people who did this are not interested in the truth, they're interested in getting a high number they can use for shock value and to score political points.

\-\-\-

Start at "private chef," they write it up as ⅙th of the (inflation-adjusted) quarter million pounds, coming out to (roughly) ₤100/day.

If you are married and, God forbid, your wife dies tomorrow, and you decide to pay somebody handle all your food needs, ₤100/day is not the correct number to budget for because they are not trying for truth, they are trying for "big number".

Have you ordered delivery lately? If you decided to replace your wife with nothing but delivery food, it would not cost you ₤100/day, it would be less than that. ₤100/day is the kind of number you get if you don't care about answering "how much would it cost to replace a wife" but instead say "what is the highest number we could justify for a wife's cooking? Clearly her cooking labor costs the same as the cost of a trained professional who does nothing else and is priced as a luxury product."

Even if you didn't factor in (and they did not) various other efficiency gains from having the same person do multiple things, that's still more than it would cost to hire an average person to do your cooking.

\-\-\-

There's also, and this is part of how you can tell the graph was made for political purposes rather than to answer interesting questions, there's apparently ₤0 assigned to sex workers?

There's a tired joke in here about how that's an accurate number to replace a common wife's value in bed, but if you were doing this for real and you wanted to know what the all-in cost of replacing a wife would be, you'd include that number. Leaving it out shows you're less interested in the truth and more interested in the optics of your presentation.

\-\-\-

If you actually did the math with truth-seeking in mind, I expect the real number would end up somewhere around 1x to 4x a year's worth of your country's minimum wage, from the following factors:

Base rate payment: 2x minimum wage - you probably don't want to pay actual minimum wage for reasons that summarize to "for this important aspect of your life, you probably want to hire somebody good enough that they have better offers than minimum wage."

You can lower it by offering lodging, but that would raise it back up as increased rent/mortgage.

You can lower it by having the children they nanny also be their children so that cost disappears, but if we're doing the "replace a dead wife" scenario, they are not.

You can raise it by having a lot of home to maintain, so you need to hire them longer or hire more people, or having a lot of ego to maintain

You can lower it by not having a lot of home to maintain, or by not having a lot of ego to stroke so they can just get to work instead of spending time managing you, but there's a lower limit here - below a certain amount of work/day, they might as well not show up (and if they're handling your every meal, they do probably need to show up every day - or at least often enough to do that food prep ahead of time so you can pop something in the microwave.

And then there's various inefficiencies - government might put sales tax on professional services, wife probably does some work even when home sick unless very sick but your HA does not do work when home sick, so that raises the cost back up again.

So, yeah, guessing somewhere 1x to 4x minimum wage, and you're paying that after-taxes of course so you'd need to earn significantly more than that to afford this.

[moody-alcoholic]

I woke up in the middle of the night with this brainworm.

Summary: Johnny x Simon. Both civilians Simon's a butcher owns a shop in Manchester. They're both crushing on each other but they're bad at feelings or somthing...

___

He comes in 3 times a week. Every week without fail.

Mondays, Thursdays and Saturdays. 

He gets chicken and beef on a Monday, always 500g of each - the best quality stuff of course. Thursday he gets sausages, a couple of whatever Simon recommends. 

Saturday’s he's convinced he just comes in to chat. Updates him on how the sausages were and always leaves with something. 

He's good for business - that's what Simon tells himself. Having such a loyal customer is hard to come by, especially when business slows down and prices go up. And besides Simon likes to listen to him, he always has a story. Simon’s convinced he makes some of it up, no way so many things can happen to one guy in a few days. 

He’s always smiling and friendly, even if he doesn’t come in but walks past he will wave, or pop his head through the door with some witty remark. Simon doesn’t think he’s ever seen him without a smile. Not bad looking either but he's pretty sure he’s single and lives alone. 

He remembers a story he told him about when he first moved to Manchester. Something about a bird in his flat, Simon can’t quite remember.

“Sausages needed something.” Johnny says, it snaps Simon out of his thoughts. He looks up at Johnny, raising an eyebrow. “Missing something. I can’t put my finger on it.”

“Eggs. Breakfast sausages are good with eggs.” Simon says. 

“You should get fresh eggs in here. I bet that would drum up some business.” Johnny beams at him. He has always thought about talking to the local farmers about it but he’s never found the time. 

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Simon hums, looking back down to continue trimming the fat off this brisket.

“I’m having a BBQ next week - If the weather is good. Got some family coming down, probably be putting in a big order.” Johnny winks at him. 

“Need anything special?” Simon asks.

“Burgers and sausages mostly.” He says walking down the display case.

“Maybe finally try some of those skewers I've had my eye on.” He says pointing on the glass at the pre-prepared chicken and pork skewers. 

“Big party?” Simon asks, he needs to know if he needs to do a bigger order. 

“10ish people. Depends on how many cousins decide to come last minute.” Johnny chuckles. 

“Big family then?” 

“Massive, and they’re all married with kids. What about you? Got siblings?” Simon looks up at him, they’ve never talked about family before. 

“I had a brother.” He says. Johnny nods and doesn't press it any further. It feels like there's an awkwardness in the air now. Simon puts his knife down reaching over for the clingfilm. 

“You should come.” Johnny says, for a second Simon freezes, maybe he misheard him, he looks over at Johnny leaning on the counter his chin resting on his hand.

“To the BBQ?” He asks, swallowing the lump in his throat. 

“Yeah!” Johnny replies excitedly.

“With your family?” He asks, raising an eyebrow. Johnny nods. He should refuse, that's the polite thing to do. It's time for Johnny to spend time with his family, not the random butcher. 

“Maybe an-” 

“Ack, don’t be silly Simon. You should come, let your hair down, take a break.” Johnny says, throwing his arms up standing up straight. Simon lets out a breath looking down at the clingfilm in his hands, he’s not sure what he needed this for now. 

Before he can reply the doorbell rings and Simon looks past Johnny to see someone walk in. Johnny moves away from the counter as Simon walks over to the till. 

“Think about it.” Johnny says before turning to leave and greeting the woman in the shop. 

“I’ll see you Monday.” He calls just before leaving, Simon nods at him and watches out the window until he disappears out of view. 

He’ll never admit it but he likes Saturdays the most. 

___

I'm taking a break from writing I said. It'll be fun, I said.

[bluewxrld07]

Lifeline (Jack Hughes)

Summary: Jack has Y/N take his car to his game. What happens when she gets caught up in a serious accident?

Warning(s): Flangst, serious car accident, serious injuries, anxiety attacks, detailed injury description

"Jack where are my shoes?" Y/N calls out, touching up her makeup in the bathroom before shutting off the light.

"I think I put them in the hallway closet!" he says back from his bedroom. She searches through the pile of shoes, finally finding the pair she was looking for and letting out a satisfied sigh.

Jack pops out of the bedroom while buttoning his jacket, adjusting the beanie on his head before straightening out his suit. He walked towards her, placing his hands on her hips and giving her a kiss on the cheek as he skims past her to slip his own shoes on.

"You still fine to take my car?" he asks, and she nods with a hum

"Do I just show them the pass when I get to the gate?"

"Yeah they know you're coming, I made sure to keep them aware you'd be in my car." he adds, making her nod as she walks back to his bedroom to go put her jewelry on.

She stands in front of the mirror while putting her earrings in.

"Okay," Jack announces, quickly walking into his room and coming to her. He passes her his keys before wrapping her in a hug from behind. "I'm out of here, the guys are downstairs. I'll see you later, yeah?" he asks as he is giving her multiple kisses on her temple, Y/N soon turning her head to capture a couple kisses on the lips.

She smiles up at him. "Aye aye captain." she chuckles, earning a playful eyeroll and a tongue sticking out at her before he leaves the room.

It's another fifteen minutes or so before Y/N is grabbing her purse and Jack's keys, kissing her cat goodbye for the evening and locking the door behind her.

Once she is in the parking garage she unlocks Jack's car, setting his keys back into her purse while opening the driver's side door.

She pushes the button to start it up, letting the car warm up to her liking while she sets her stuff into the passenger seat. As her music soon booms through the speakers she begins to leave the garage as she hums along to the tunes.

The ride was overall quiet and peaceful in her opinion, snow coming down pretty quickly the more downtown she got into New Jersey.

By the time she'd be arriving at the stadium, the boys would be just getting onto the ice for warmups which as perfect timing for her to see Jack as he went back to the locker rooms post warmups.

She made it to the final stoplight just before the arena was in her view, her chest feeling a little less heavy as she always got nervous driving Jack's car.

"It's just a car, baby. I can always buy another one. I can't buy another you." He'd always tell her, which always resulted in her saying she knows how much this car meant to Jack. It was like his baby.

Her light finally turned green, Y/N beginning to turn onto the next road but lets out a gasp as she hears a car horn, and sees headlights getting closer towards the driver's side of Jack's car.

Before she can try to miss the impact, the car hits her side fast and hard. She could feel the car go flying across the intersection and toppling over.

She felt the impact as it hit her, only just barely before her body takes over and everything goes dark.

Meanwhile, Jack and the crew are making their ways back to the locker rooms after finishing warmups all hyped up for the night ahead.

As they're all gettin revved up for the big talk with coach, they all watch him walk into the room with a very serious face. More straight than it usually is.

"The game is being delayed by an hour," he announces, making everyone all hum out responses filled with confusion. Coach raises his arms to silence the team. "There was an accident just by the stoplight. As far as I know, a diesel truck rammed into the driver's side of a bit of a smaller car. The other car has a lot of damage and was hit so hard it rolled and toppled over across the intersection."

All the guys all hummed out in sorrow and understanding, still all buzzing about how long they'd have to actually wait to go out.

Some of the guys threw on their slides before heading out towards the parking garage to see if they could see it from where they were.

Jack and Luke were amongst the few, Luke being further ahead with some of the guys.

The sirens and commotion got louder the closer they got to the edge of the garage, only being to see bits and pieces of it as it looked like it happened just before the turn into the parking garage.

As Jack gets up to be with some of his buddies, a few of the security guars had jogged over to Luke and started saying a few things.

Nico and Dawson were also next to Luke, their faces dropping as they looked at Luke whose face turned white before turning towards Jack then back at the site while running a hand over his mouth waling with the security guards over to the site.

Jack got up closer to the bunch, his eyes squinting and looking over to the crash site.

Nico and Dawson immediately rush up to him before pulling him back. Jack frowns. "What? Why can't I see, what's going on?" he says as he lightly pushes them off of him.

"Jack it's best if you don't go up there." Nico says in a warning tone.

"Why, what's the big deal? Get off!" Jack says as they keep their grips on him.

"Jack don't," Dawson says. Jack glares at them both, confusion taking over his features.

"What the fuck is up with you two?" Jack asks. "What is happening, why did Luke go with them?" he bombards, just before his movements of pushing them off freezes.

His heart falls to his ass as his stomach begins to feel nauseous.

"Don't tell me it's Y/N." he says with a knowing look, and their faces said it all.

Jack immediately fights off their grips harder than he was trying before, running up the street towards the caution tape.

Luke is making his way back quickly, immediately increasing his speed when he sees Jack coming and coming fast. "Jack, no." Luke says with a warning look on his face and pushing him away from the scene.

"Luke you don't want to fucking mess with me right now-"

"You don't want to see this, you need to stay back."

"If you don't get your fucking hands off me, Luke I swear we're going to have bigger issues." he snaps. Jack pushes back at his brother, looking over shoulder and pushing Luke to the side.

He scurries up to the caution tape, his chest becoming heavy as he sees the aftermath. His eyes widening.

There was scrap metal and pieces of the car all over the intersection, skid marks from what he could suspect were his car tires. The giant truck had a few dents and parts missing on the front of it. His eyes followed the skid marks towards where Jack's car was now laying. He felt like it was all in slow motion.

His car was totaled. It was toppled over on its passenger side, the entire driver's side of the car completely demolished.

Y/N was in that car. She felt that impact.

He ran towards the car screaming her name, policemen pushing him back. "No! That's my car, my girlfriend was in that fucking car let me through! Where is she? Where's Y/N? That was my girl in that car dammit! Where is she??" he panics, fighting his way past the officers and running towards the car.

He put a hand over his mouth as he saw the front door was off its hinges, looking as if it had been sawed off. The seat was torn up and didn't look like a seat anymore.

He swear his heart had stopped beating the moment he spotted blood. He saw her purse lying on the broken window of the passenger side.

"Sir you need to step back. This is a crime scene."

He whips his head around with his hands in his hair, tears falling freely from his eyes.

"What happened to her? Where's Y/N? At least fucking tell me my girl is alive!" he screams out, his voice cracking at the end of it.

As the officer was about to speak, someone else's voice came out first. "You said it was your girlfriend in the car?" A firemen behind him announces as he walks up to Jack.

Jack nods eagerly. "Where is she? I need her, I need to see her." he begs.

The firemen purses his lips. "She was just brought away in an ambulance," he starts, watching Jack's face contort into all sorts of emotions. "She was unconscious when we got to her. Her entire left side of her body had been stuck and crammed into the driver's side door. We had to saw the door open to try and get to her." he explains.

Jack swears he could've passed out right then and there.

"Her left leg had been caught in the door the most, so we had to break her leg to get her unstuck. She was in critical condition when we got her out. She was losing a lot of blood." he finishes, Jack breaking out into sobs.

Jack feels his chest getting tight, breathing becoming rapid. Luke wasn't too far behind him, immediately taking his brother into his arms to help him through the panic attack that was going to set in.

"I need to get to her, I need to see her. I need-"

"I know Jack. Let's go, we've gotta go now."

"I never said I loved her before leaving the apartment tonight," Jack gasps out, grabbing at his chest as he tries to slow his breathing.

"You'll get to tell her Jack. Don't think that way." Luke assures, walking his brother back towards the parking garage and the arena.

Luke gives Nico a knowing look, the captain nodding and running inside.

Jack felt everything inside him going numb. All he wanted was Y/N. He wanted her and only her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jack's knee never stopped bouncing.

His legs were spread, elbows on his knees as his head was looking down at his lap.

The doctor has yet to come back with any updates from yet a second surgery she was undergoing. Jack was going insane. He couldn't believe he forgot to tell her he loved her before leaving. Especially the fact he let her drive on her own when he knew she hated driving in the snow.

He felt like it was his fault.

"Jack," Luke's voice says softly, making the brown-haired boy's head snap up fast. He sees the surgeon walking their way, causing Jack to stand and meet him halfway.

"How is she? Is she okay?"

The surgeon takes off his cap and holds it in his hands while pursing his lips. "She lost a lot of blood on her way here. Please keep that in mind with the next things I'm about to tell you," he warns Jack, who nods. "She did flatline twice-"

Jack's lung felt like they were deprived of all air entirely.

"We managed to revive her both times, she was doing well after that. We had to full reset her entire left leg and femur. Her hip bone was completely dislodged from its socket," he explains. "She does have a concussion, and a broken elbow which we did put a screw in there to help piece it back together. But she's a strong woman. She pulled through and is in the recovery wing. She will be wheeled into her room shortly, which I can give you the number to so you can wait for her."

Jack nods eagerly, shaking hands with the surgeon after they finished talking. Jack turns to Luke, bitting his lip to keep it from quivering.

Luke pulled his brother in for a hug, holding him tight as he feels Jack shake quietly in his arms.

Once Jack has calmed down a bit they began to walk towards her room to go sit there until she is wheeled in. Jack was stuck wearing his suit to the hospital, his few top buttons undone and sleeves rolled to his elbows.

The waiting game for Jack was what was the most agonizing. He sat in the spot that would be next to her bed, Luke looking over at Jack every so often in case he broke out into an attack again.

Before they know it the door is slowly being pulled open, nurses heard chattering lightly as Jack stands and watches as they wheel her bed in. His heart broke, but he knew in that moment he needed to be stronger for her.

She had entire cast taking up her whole leg and was partly taking over her hip, as well as a cast over her left elbow. She had a small neck strainer, and some butterfly bandages across her face.

Her eyes were squinting as if she had just woken up not too long ago, her lip busted as well. She tried looking around, only to be met with pain and limited movement in her neck.

Everything ached numbly to her, due to all the medications they had her on. She felt like she was going to throw up if anything.

The nurses began hooking her up to the machines behind her, making sure her IVs were in tact, making sure she was okay and could feel the pressure they were adding into the palm of her hand.

Her eyes opened a bit more and finally caught Jack's eye, making her eyes water and her lip start quivering. Jack stood up immediately as he walked over to her.

He wanted to take her hand so badly in that moment, but couldn't as the nurses were using it to connect her IVs.

"I'm sorry," she whispers, her throat feeling dry and raw. "I'm so sorry Jack. I'm sorry." she began to cry making him bite his lip and shake his head.

"I'm going to go get her some water and ice." Luke says, wanting to give them their alone time as he knew Jack needed that.

Once the nurses were done with her IVs, Jack took her good hand into his and kissed it a million times. He squeezed it tight as he shook his head.

"I'm so glad you're alive. I'm so glad you're okay." he mutters out with a quivering shake in his voice.

"Jack I'm so sorry. I can't believe I ruined your car."

Jack just shook his head and closed his eyes, kissing her hand and keeping it up by his mouth as he stared at her. His eyes glosses over in tears threatening to fall.

"I'm here. I came as soon as I figured it out. I'm so sorry I shouldn't have let you drive in that weather." Jack says.

"Jack your car, I'm sorry. I really-"

"If you bring that fucking car up again I swear I'm going to get pissed off." he interrupts her. She lets her lip quiver.

"But-"

"No. That car is a piece of metal, something easily replaceable," he snaps. "You are not. I don't care about a damn car. I care about the girl I'm supposed to spend the rest of my life with being alive. Not a fucking car, Y/N." he says in a darker tone.

"I just I can't believe that happened. It all happened so fast." she whimpers, Jack sniffling.

"The driver was arrested. He's going away for a while, I can promise you that I will make sure of it." Jack assures, Y/N trying her best to squeeze Jack's hand with what little strength she had.

"Jack what about your game?"

He scoffs and looks at her with a knowing look. "You're funny, pretty."

She furrows her brows. "But it's your biggest rival."

"And? I play them every year, I will see them next season. The love of my life flatlined twice and can't walk. I'm more concerned about her than a game." he says, Y/N just letting out a hum.

"I love you so much," Jack says, kissing her hand again. "I love you. I love you more than anything imaginable."

"I love you too Jack. I'm going to be okay.

"I didn't tell you I love you before I left the apartment. I can't believe I didn't say it."

"Jack stop. Don't blame yourself. This wasn't your fault. I know you do, so don't do that." she assures him, and he just nods.

"I just don't know what I would've done if you were gone," he says. "You're my lifeline. You're who I breathe for, who I live everyday for. I can't imagine you not being here. It killed me when I found out. Nothing else mattered."

Y/N wished she could hug him in that moment. She wished she could hold him tight and tell him everything she knew he needed to hear.

"Jack," she starts. "I'm here. I'm alive. I'm breathing and you can feel my pulse beating. I'm not going to leave you ever." she says, watching his eyes blink away more tears.

"If I did croak, I would've come back to haunt you anyways. So you're stuck with me.

Jack gives her a look. "Very funny."

"I thought so." she says with a weak and amused smile. Jack smiles small at her, grateful to see her gorgeous smile again.

She was his everything. His Lifeline.

[bunnyclawzz]

Can you do more hyperfem reader x Mohawk mark??

Yesyesyes!! I lovee mohawk Mark so much, I might make this a little series😋

Opposites!

Mohawk Mark x Hyperfem!reader

Going shopping with you would be a full-time job to anyone who wasn't him. He never got bothered when you would ask to go. Yeah, he had those snarky little comments, but her never actually meant any of them

"Maarrkk? Can you come to the mall wi-" he didn't even let you finish asking for his company before he cut you off in a rude yet affectionate way. "Stop asking me like I'm ever gonna let you go alone. The hell do you even need from there anyways?" he questioned without even looking up from his phone. His response had a warm grin blossoms onto your face, the kind of smile that he could tell was there without needing to turn to check. A soft hum leaves your glossed lips before you reply. "Wanna get new clothes for spring. Maybe early summer shoppin' too. Maybe we can get some for you too!' you'd offer all enthusiastically as if you were the one paying for any items. He turns his head to face you, raising an eyebrow at you with a slanted head "..Sure. Whatever you pick, princess" he spoke, purposely using the nickname that always made you feel all warm inside and out.

Just like clockwork, each and every time you were shopping with him he would follow you around like a stray dog. He'd carry whichever drink you had chosen for the warm afternoon-weather it's a iced soda, a boba tea, or an overly sugared iced coffee, it's in his hand while you wander around whichever shop caught your attention first. "Hmm.." you buzz softly, eyes scanning around for just a moment. Your soft hand takes his rough and hard-skinned one to lead him into a store that makes him look like an action figure stuck into a dollhouse.

"Mark," you began as you lifted a lacy pink baby doll top up into his view "do you like this?" you questioned as your free hand ran along the pastel fabric. He had no time to respond before you continued on with the questions. "Or do you like the yellow one better? Oh-they have blue! You like blue, right?" He couldn't hold back the big smile that plastered across his face as you trailed on and on about the colors of the tops that had your attention. "I do like blue, yeah, but you shouldn't just get something 'cause it's a color I like" You're silent for a few seconds, clearly up in your head thinking about something. After just another second you click your tongue and shake your head, you voice coming out like the curb of a morning bird. "Nope!" You said, popping the 'p' in the word as you set the pink top down and reached for the French blue colored one instead, "Already got an outfit for it planned in my head." He chuckles at your words. His hand reaches out to take the top, holding it up to your body in attempt to get a visual. "Yeah? Can't wait to see it on" He said in a low murmur as he eyed you up.

Just around an hour into the trip you had your own drink in hand, sipping contently as your boyfriend followed you around whilst carrying all your shopping bags, all full of items purchased by him. Store after store, changing room after changing room and giving endless input and compliments and watching you swatch an endless amount of lippies only to buy you one new lipstick and a new mascara tube-how could he not spoil you? You're the one thing in his life that is absolutely perfect in and out, he has to treat you as what you are. "Princess," he began with a soft sigh, "Come on, we're sitting at the food court for a minute. Just the sound of those shoes tells me they're uncomfortable" he said as he gestured to the open-toed kitten heels on your feet. He barely let your brain process the words, just quick to take you by the wrist and tug you to the first open seats he could find.

"Alright," he spoke again, "I"m getting you a burger and fries. Do you want a new drink?" You didn't respond for a few seconds. Your eyes got glued to him, admiring him and all he does for you for just a few seconds before you answered. "...get me a lemonade?" "Got it" he said as he leaned down to kiss the top of your head. "I'll be right back, just sit and rest your feet for a few minutes."

Upon meeting Mark, the weirdo-punk with the spiky mohawk and short temper, you never thought you'd like him, let alone date him. You would've never dreamt that being paired with said weirdo would lead to you being treated like royalty and being absolutely spoiled rotten whenever he could. Can’t help but adore his very unlikely girlfriend

[woantohae]

Close to you || (Bob Reynolds x reader)

Summary: AU! Where Yelena asks Y/N and Bucky for a big favor while they're on a mission: to save Robert Reynolds, a friend of hers. Thinking it would be an easy mission to carry out, they readily accept, only to be surprised to find that it won't be as they thought.

And Bob is nothing like he pretends to be.

Author's note: Hello! So this is basically a dream that I had last night and I couldn't not write it. I hope you enjoy it 💌

Content warnings: au! fanfic, fluff, curse words, void being a flirt kinda? (i know he's not like that in the comics, but a girl can dream), bucky and reader acting like sister and brother, bob having a soft spot for reader, shy! bob, hints of angst.

"What's his name again?"

"Robert Reynolds," Yelena says through Y/N's earpiece "They've had him there for a long time, and I promised to go get him once I knew his location."

Bucky prepares his weapons, his brows slightly furrowed, as he listens to the blonde through the communicator in his ear as well.

"Old friend or an ex from the past?" Bucky asks, to which Y/N ​​smiles in amusement.

Yelena laughs sarcastically.

"Ha, ha, ha. Yeah," she says. "He's just a friend. I could never see him that way in my life, and he thinks the same. I'm not his type, anyway."

"We'll do our best, Yelena," the girl assures her, starting to walk with Bucky to the back entrance of the place.

Yelena thanks them, then leaves the duo on their own. They both act stealthily and cautiously to avoid being seen by the guards. Bucky is in charge of throwing a rope that sticks to the ceiling of the compound, giving it a couple of tugs to make sure it's secure.

The black-haired man watches her.

"You coming?" He raises an eyebrow.

"Of course," she begins to rise into the air with the ease of her powers. "See you up there."

Bucky complains and curses, while Y/N laughs. She is the first to reach the roof and waits a few seconds until the man reaches her side.

"Sometimes I forget you can fly," he says, letting go of the rope and letting it fall from the ceiling.

They start walking to the ventilation duct, which Bucky easily opens with his metal arm. He lets Y/N go through first, and she cautiously squeezes through the ventilation duct, complaining about the space in the process. With great care and effort, they begin to walk through the limited space until they reach the grate that leads to the lab where Robert was. The duo stays on their knees, crouching, peering through the grate, a bright orange light emanating from it.

"I think it's here," Bucky says, adjusting the weapon in the small backpack on his back.

"Do you know the plan?" Y/N nods as she peers through the grate, looking at a man lying on a stretcher in the fetal position. "You ready?"

"Are you?" He looks at her, to wich she confirms her answer with the movement of her fingers that open the metal grate.

Bucky is the first to go down, trying to make as little noise as possible, then raises his arms and embraces Y/N in them. They make sure no one is watching them, so they give Yelena the sign to lock the glass room they're in. Suddenly, the deafening sound of the metal doors slamming shut is heard, jarring the brunette awake, who falls off the stretcher and onto the floor.

"Ouch!" he groans.

Y/N walks over to him and crouches down to check on him. Bob's eyes are still closed from the impact, a look of grievance on his face.

"Are you Robert?" she asks, frowning.

Bob opens his eyes and finds himself staring at the girl in front of him.

He swallows and nods repeatedly.

"Yeah, yeah."

She smiles and brings her fingers to the communicator in her ear. "We got him, Yelena," she says triumphantly.

The brunette sits up, resting his elbows on the floor and looking at her with hope in his eyes. He remembers the blonde-haired girl who stood by him when he needed her most. Until Valentina's team managed to capture him again to continue turning him into their weapon. Time passed and his hope faded, but now a calm slowly invaded his being.

"Good job, guys. Thank you" says Yelena and the smile on her face can be heard through the earpiece.

Y/N looks back at Bob and gets up from the ground offering her hand to help him, which he accepts. Robert notices Bucky who is looking at him carefully and cautiously, alert to any sudden movement.

"Well, Robert. We need to go. Now," Y/N says.

Bob nods, not questioning her decision.

He feels the blue-eyed man's cold glare and swallows, suddenly feeling small; it's as if he hates him without even knowing him, and doesn't understand why. But he doesn't have time to continue questioning that, as a deafening alarm suddenly sounds. The metal doors begin to rise, revealing several guards pointing guns at them behind the glass.

"Shit," the girl curses and positions herself next to Bucky.

"I thought we had more time, Yelena," Bucky says, sounding exasperated.

"Fuck, I didn't think they'd discover us so quickly."

"Really? Well, they did," Bucky says, readying his weapon.

He signals Y/N with his hand, indicating the vent for them to leave. "Go, I'll distract them."

"Come on," she says taking Bob's arm —not thinking twice, the girl knows Bucky can take care of this on his own.

They move as quickly as they can.

"Can you get in?"

"I-I think so."

Y/N lets the brunette climb first, then pulls herself up and enters, feeling Bob help her by wrapping his arms around her waist. The pair crawl through the duct quickly until they reach the exit to the roof. Soon they both step out, but stop abruptly when it can be heard the sound of guns pointed at them. There are some guards who went up to the roof to catch them.

"Stop! Don't move!" one of them shouts.

Both Y/N ​​and Bob raise their arms in surrender, until the girl decides to move her hands and take the guns from them, while Bob throws them away through the air, letting them fall while hearing their cries for help. She looks at him in surprise and raises an eyebrow, to which Bob glances at her, as if what he did was wrong.

"Wow, that was good."

Bob smiles and shrugs.

"Thank you. You too."

The moment of victory doesn't last long, as Bob feels something stinging his neck. He reaches for his neck and pulls out a dart, staring at it with a frown. The girl notices that one of the guards is left in the corner, and before he can attack them, she uses her powers to shot him with one of the guns that was on the ground.

"Fuck," Bob says.

Y/N's eyes widen and she reaches for him when she realizes he's about to faint. The girl's arms wrap around him as best she can and she tries to communicate with Bucky.

"Bucky, we have a problem here."

"Yeah, me too!" he replies, while she hears the bullets on the other side. "Do you think you can make it to the car?"

The girl looks down at Bob, who is unconscious, and considers her options. She can fly to the car without a problem, but she's never carried someone in her arms while doing so. However, Y/N would have to do it if she wanted to complete the mission.

She sighs and nods with her head, even if Bucky can't see her.

"Yeah, i can do that."

"I'll be there in a minute. I need to take care of something before. Be careful" he says the last thing in a concerned tone.

"I will. You too, Bucky" she asks.

Without waiting any longer, she grabs Bob's body in her arms and soars into the air until she reaches the car. She opens the door with a flick of her fingers —without needing the keys, and carefully puts Bob inside, then gets in the car and closes the door, checking that no one else is near the perimeter. Y/N catches her breath as she adjusts Bob's body so he's sitting in the car and she puts on his seatbelt.

Y/N brushes a strand of hair away that's falling from the man's forehead and looks at him, scanning the details of his calm face. But the calm doesn't last long because Bucky decides to jump into the car without a warning.

"Fuck, Bucky! What the hell!" she exclaims, feeling her heart race in shock.

"No time to yell at me! We have to go, now!" Bucky yells as he starts driving.

The black-haired man drives like there's no tomorrow, and they get as far away from the scene as possible, feeling the bullets hit the car, but the sound of an explosion steals their attention.

"Shit. That was you?" she asks, looking over her shoulder.

"I had to stop them somehow," Bucky says, his eyes fixed on the road.

"Not bad," she says, pouting and shrugging.

Bob slowly wakes up, opening his eyes and looking around.

"What happened?" he asks in a soft tone.

Y/N looks at him and smiles.

"Everything's okay. We managed to escape, don't worry," she comforts him in a soft tone, noticing how Bob's frown softens and she can see the relief on his face.

"Is everything okay back there?" he asks, looking at them in the rearview mirror.

Y/N nods, but the man abruptly turns the car to take a shortcut, causing Bob's body to move —and the brunette's face to land directly on Y/N's breasts.

"Fuck, sorry!" Bob says panicking.

Y/N feels a heat spread across her cheeks at what happened with Bob, even though she knows it was a complete accident. Unlike Bucky, who glares at him as he continues driving at top speed.

"Hey, it's okay," the girl says, and Bob immediately pulls away from her.

"You seemed to enjoy it, Robert," Bucky says in a serious tone.

"Bucky. Now's not the... Watch out!"

The car is hit by another vehicle, causing it to flip through the air. Y/N rushes to try to use her powers and stabilize it, bringing it back down to earth, only now they're upside down.

"Are you okay?" Bucky asks, groaning.

"I think so," she replies, looking at Bob, who's grimacing from the impact.

From one second to the next, the girl is yanked out of the car by someone, while Bob and Bucky shout at her to stop and let her go. One of the guards who managed to reach them grabs her by the hair and pulls her head back, putting a plastic syringe down her throat. If she makes a false move, he'll inject her with it.

"You're not that useful with your magnetic powers now, are you?" the guard says in her ear.

Bucky blows the driver's door open and immediately gets out, pointing a gun at him. Bob still hasn't gotten out of the car.

"Ah, easy there. I can inject this into her anytime if you shoot me, soldier."

Y/N looks at him, her eyes telling him not to do anything. Bucky clenches his jaw and lowers the gun, then drops it to the ground and raises his hands in surrender.

"We'll do this: you give me Reynolds, and also I take the girl with me, and no one gets hurt," he offers with a mocking smile.

"Eat shit," Bucky replies, gritting his teeth.

"Yeah, I don't think so," a voice identical to Bob's is heard.

The rest watch as Bob walks toward them slowly but surely, with a much darker and more confident aura than a few minutes ago when they rescued him.

"You're going to let her go, and then I'll take care of you so you never show up again," he assures, standing in front of the guard.

"How are you going to do that? Are you going to beat me up?" He laughs, and Bob just smirks.

The brunette stretches out an arm and uses his hand to make the guard choke suddenly, freeing Y/N, who is instantly rescued by Bucky. They both watch as Bob chokes the life out of the man without having to touch him, then disappears, leaving a dark, black trail on the ground.

The pair stares at him in perplexity, and he turns to look at them, specifically at Y/N, whom he approaches, standing in front of her.

"You're safe now," he says calmly.

A few months had passed since Bob had arrived at the home, greeted by Yelena, who was happy and relieved to see him alive.

The pair shared a unique connection and a friendship they had forged over the years since they met in the laboratory where they were subjected to a series of torture experiments. They had promised to seek each other out once they had found the location they were in. Although it had taken a while, they were now reunited.

The rest of the team had also welcomed him well and were getting to know him over the last few days to integrate him into the group.

Yelena had explained to them that Bob tended to have his good moments and his bad moments—like what happened with the guard when Y/N and Bucky rescued him. It was as if they'd possessed poor Bob, turning him into a more confident, powerful man with dark intentions. It wasn't that they judged him for that; everyone there had done things they regretted, but this was different. Something beyond their capabilities.

The rain was now pounding the roof of the compound. The ambient temperature was low, and every time Y/N blew air through her nose, she could see white steam rising from it. The girl had a cup of tea in her hands that relieved the cold a little, while she sipped it, appreciating the rainy landscape in front of her.

The house was completely silent, allowing only the soft sound of falling raindrops to be heard. It was the perfect weather and occasion, according to the girl; she could enjoy it all day with nothing to do and no one to interrupt her. John was spending time with his baby, Ava was on a first date with Yelena—the pair were getting to know each other much better after forming a team. Meanwhile, Alexei was working in his spare time as a limo driver to pay some bills, and Antonia had decided to step away from the group for a while to pursue her own business.

So the only people in the house were Bob, Y/N, and Bucky, the latter of whom was in an online meeting at the office with Sam.

Y/N watched through the window as Bob hurriedly ran into the house. She watched as Bob entered, shook his hair, trying to dry it, and then proceeded to take off his jacket and shirt, leaving his torso bare and unaware of Y/N's presence, who looked away.

"How was the gardening, Bob?"

"Oh, shit!" He froze and tried to cover his chest with his shirt "I'm so sorry. I thought I was alone"

She smiles amusedly, still holding her mug. She takes a sip and nods at the rain outside.

"Whenever it rains, I stay inside. It helps me disconnect from everything," she explains, while Bob nods, still holding the shirt to his chest.

Y/N raises an eyebrow and walks over to him, then places the mug on the table, standing face to face with the brunette.

"Need help? I can do the laundry, today." Bob swallows and shakes his head, letting out a nervous laugh.

"You don't have to. It's my stuff."

She shrugs and shakes her head, tilting it as she looks at him. "I don't have a problem with that"

She seriously wants you, right now. Do something. Or I will.

Bob frowns slightly his eyebrows and shakes his head, trying to make him go away. But he knows it's not that easy.

Y/N places her hand on Bob's to encourage him to give her his clothes. Their eyes are on each other, and neither of them seems to want to look away. Bob is a bundle of nerves when he feels Y/N's touch.

"I've noticed you tend to ignore me," she says in a low tone.

Bob's eyes widen and he shakes his head, as if he's been caught in the act.

"No, no, no. I'm, well, I don't... I'm sorry if you felt that way." Bob tries to form a coherent sentence, but has trouble doing so, seeing how Y/N keeps looking at him with those bright eyes he often likes to find in a crowd "I didn't mean to, really. It's just you are incredible and pretty, and I just..... I don't know..."

Seeing the man's worried state, Y/N places a hand on his cheek to make him look at her.

"Easy, it's okay. I'm not mad about it," she says with a smile "I just wanna know why. I would love to get to know you better, actually".

"Really?" the brunette asks.

She nods and smiles sideways.

Bob stares down at Y/N's lips for a few seconds, thinking about how soft they look. He wonders what it feels like to kiss them, and this isn't the first time he's done it.

It wasn't anyone's surprise that Bob started to have feelings for the girl in front of him; he's sure it was the day they rescued him. It may have been immediate, but he couldn't deny the way his heart raced, and it didn't even match how it felt when he was drugged or experimented on. This was better and more powerful, a feeling he craved every chance he got.

Y/N felt the same way about Bob. She found him handsome, sweet, and warm to be around. Lately, she'd been trying to give him hints that she was attracted to him, but the man never noticed. Maybe he was too oblivious, because he was pretty much the only person in the team who didn't seemed to noticed. The first to notice this undeniable attraction was Yelena. She constantly teased them by the looks the pair gave each other, and how they reacted when they heard each other's names in a conversation.

They wouldn't get away with it that easily.

"I, uh... think you're pretty," he blurts out. "And you make me nervous because you're wonderful. In every aspect of the word. "There isn't a day that goes by that I don't think of you or look at you, hoping you'll return my gaze".

She looks at him dearly, feeling her heart race. In a nice way.

"And maybe it's silly, but whenever I'm around you, I feel at peace," he says sincerely. "And I haven't felt that way in a long time."

Can you be more pathetic about it? Just kiss her already!

God damn it, shut up.

Bob falls silent at the sight of her expression and thinks he's screwed up, so before he can explain, or even try to, he feels Y/N grab the back of his neck and pull him closer for a kiss. He's surprised but lets go, letting go of the shirt from his hands to hug her waist, while Y/N rests her hands on his broad shoulders and they continue moving their lips in sync.

Bob doesn't want this moment to end because he thinks he's dreaming, so he wraps his arms around the girl's body to pull her closer to him, feeling that voice in his head bothering him once again.

Just like that, her lips feel good, don't they?

Bob growls when he feels Y/N's hands caresing his chest, feeling the coldness of her fingers. Their moment is interrupted by someone clearing their throat as they enter the room.

The two of them separate from eachother. Y/N lowers her gaze and bites her lip, while Bob alertly stares at Bucky, who looks at him seriously.

"I'll just say you two should go to a room if this goes any further. We don't want this to be any more awkward than it is," Bucky says, going to the kitchen to get a cup and start making some coffee.

Y/N pats Bob's chest, and he looks at her, then follows her like a puppy.

"You don't have to be such an asshole," Y/N pinches Bucky's arm as she walks past him.

"It's my duty as your friend."

"Looks more like a brother, kinda stuff," Y/N says, taking Bob's hand and leading him to his room.

"Use protection!" Bucky warns.

Oh, we will.

Bob internally scolds himself as he hears Void invade his mind for a moment. Y/N laughs in amusement at Bob's reaction, stopping him in the middle of the hallway, just in front of her room.

"We don't have to do anything," she clarifies, and she sees how he relaxes a little.

"But I'd like to spend a little more time together. If that's okay with you."

Bob smiles and nods.

"I'd like that too."

Damn, Bob. We miss the fun part.

SHUT THE FUCK UP.

[grapenehifics]

One of my favorite activities while watching Revenge of the Sith (to distract myself from the pain, I guess) is finding little moments that had the potential to change everything. Anakin comes so close to turning back and making better choices, so many times. There are many more, but my top three today are:

-Dooku crushes Obi-Wan under a heavy platform and Obi-Wan passes out (??) for a while but then gets up, fights a battle, and seemingly suffers no ill effects whatsoever. What if this were actually treated like a serious spinal injury and not just a convenient way to have Obi-Wan out of the picture so Sidious can convince Anakin to kill Dooku? Obi-Wan is hurt, either temporarily or permanently paralyzed from at least the waist down, and therefore in in the infirmary and obviously in no shape to go to Utapau. Anakin, being obviously concerned about his master, spends all of his meager free time at Obi-Wan's side rather than with Sidious, and harbors no resentment about not going to Utapau (he didn't want to leave Obi-Wan, or Padmé, anyway), and maybe actually manages to take a goddamn nap.

-Speaking of Utapau - on the landing platform, Anakin says he wants to go with Obi-Wan, and that he could be helpful. Obi-Wan agrees that no doubt he would be. What if he actually did it? Obi-Wan's a Master, a General, and a Councillor. I'm sure he has the authority to say, "You know what, you're right, Anakin. Grab your things and let's go." I'm not sure this would be enough to avoid Order 66, but it would keep Anakin out of Sidious' way, and maybe he and Obi-Wan would return to the Temple together, only this time to save the younglings rather than murder them.

-A big part of Sidious' pitch to Anakin is that he and he alone possesses the knowledge to save Padmé (and by extension Anakin and Padmé's unborn child). That's Anakin's whole deal with killing Master Windu - he first tries to argue that Palpatine should stand trial, and it's only after Windu argues against that plan that Anakin takes Palpatine's side. But then immediately after, Palpatine says, and I'm paraphrasing but he basically admits, 'okay so I don't actually know how to save your wife. But uhhh you're really strong in the Force soooo I'm sure together you and I will be able to figure it out."

And Anakin just goes along with this! I realize he doesn't have (or, doesn't think he has, which are two different things) any better options on the table, but it feels very Anakin to me for him to be like, "um, wait a second, my new master. I thought you said you'd tell me how to keep people from dying? Padmé could die tomorrow. We do not have time to sit around in the Sith library and 'figure it out together'. You lied to me!" Anakin hates being lied to. This is an immediately stab-worthy offense.

This of course doesn't address Anakin's raging attachment issues nor his misplaced distrust of the Jedi, but it does prevent the creation of the Empire so all in all I'd take this as a win.

Anyway. I'm deep in the weeds of an entirely different RotS rewrite and don't have time to take on another, much less three, but they're enjoyable scenarios to think about, at least. They don't even need to be endgame Obikin...even if I personally think of them that way :D

[marsprincess889]

Astrology observations

Part 10

1. An interesting difference between Rohini and Mrigashira that I have not seen pointed out is in what they enjoy (in any way): regarding food, for example, Rohini might go for heavier food, meat, sticky sugary sweets, lots of fats, things that are rich with ingredients and are generally of that nature. Mrigashiras might prefer leaves and salads over meat. I think they like dairy but love moderation, and eat way more lightly than Rohinis.

Rohinis don't have much morality when it comes to enjoyment (generally), that might manifest as them not being ashamed to indulge in stuff that might be considered ulhealthy. Mrigashiras, being extremely alert and sensitive to things that Rohini just takes in, wants to analyze what they take in. That's why they might go for "the healthy" options. They also love feeling "light" in a sense of feeling free to move how they want to. That lightnes can sometimes make them feel anxious though, and then they start to crave stability.

2. Jyeshtas are very pure-hearted (let me explain).

As we know, it's a discharging and active placement, so it's free from the "extra" and the unnecessary. It's one if the nakshatras that can be considered "pure" due to its self-reliance and refusal to depend on others. There is a sharpness and a mobility to their essence that stems from deep within their souls, and everything that they touch has that "epic " feel to it.

I'm personally a big fan.

3. To return to a point from my previous observations, Jupiter and Ketu nakshatra people need to be wary of getting swept up be their own "grandiose", especially in serious subjects like guidance, morals and spirituality (in any sense of the word), especially because people tend to naturally listen to and trust them.

Jupiter nakshatra natives love everything "big" and meaningful. Even if they have the best of intentions, they should be mindful to not throw big statements around. They might love to attach meaning to everything, and I mean, anything. Jupiter is endless growth, which can be dangerous when not checked, contrained and/or directed. They are also the "supporters" of others, and their acceptance might lead them to support faulty things.

Ketu people might be prone to ignorance and similar to Jupiter people, they have people looking up to them. While Jupiter is endless growth, Ketu is an endless void. That unwillingness to see past their judgement gives them a self-posessed energy that can be interpreted as superior by the masses, they are often put on pedastels. As always, other influences in the chart play a huge role, as this tendency is significantly reduced when a Ketu person also has Venusian influence (Venus is the materialization of Ketu's spiritual essence, making it grounded and of value), while it can be increased with added Jupiterian influence (this is based on my observations of real-life people).

4. Tiger yonis should try to control their impulses and preserve their energy more. I don't know what the coorelation is, theoretically, between them and that behavior but I've seen it many times in real life. I'm not even saying this in an accusatory tone, because that harms tiger yonis themselves, first and foremost. They might be scattered and all over the place, not knowing what to do with their energy. They're not geared towards natural integration, energetic stability and unity like cow yonis, so they should use their drive to build to control their own impulses. If implemented, I think that they can achieve a lot (they have a drive to provoke, change, build or fix things).

5. Speaking of Cow yonis, they are more sensitive than it looks. They are naturally stoic and self-reliant so you won't notice it unless they casually reveal things that confirm that, because of their own natural tendency to be honest.

6. I've seen Ketu nakshatras really hyped up, whether in online spaces from astrology accounts or in real life. And people really like to talk about them and pay attention to them. I though, this can't be a coincidence, and here's my two cents as to why this might be: I think it all comes down the very nature of Ketu, which is absorbing, heated, passive, unresponsive and unaware. As I've said, I think that inspires admiration from the masses because they're percieved as superior, and when I say "superior", I mean that they get admiration because of anything and everything, not just because of one thing. And while many people might disagree with those who admire them and pour energy into Ketu individuals, it's not a question of whether they're actually deserving of it (they may or may not be, I've seen it go both ways), it's about what makes Ketu people get that kind of attention in the first place. Absolutely crediting Claire Nakti here, because she was right when she said that individuals who are not really integrated within themselves tend to rely on and worship Ketu people. Ketu, as a force, can be really dangerous, and I think people tend to ignore that very real danger. This is not to scare anyone, obviously, but I think if you attribute all kinds of positive or important things to one type of energy you might want to think if that's really true, and why you are percieving it like that.

7. Shravana people are interesting and I think that is not recignized enough!! I think their intellectual and intrapersonal or interpersonal abilities are ignored.

[halfway-happyyy]

Hi! Have been thinking about Frank and scars. And the reader who has some and loves them. (I have 11, 9 under 1 cm on my head under hair and on the forehead, 1 about 5 cm on my right hand, and 1 big from neck to bottom, from planned spinal surgery, nothing traumatic breaking) So when the reader is tracing his scars and he's being all sulky "looks bad" mood, she's like, "Would you say that my scars make me look bad, huh??? 😠 thought so, now let me kiss them all 😌 "

ooooh, yes. i've dabbled a bit with this subject here, but it just never gets old, does it?

and part of the reason it's so good, is that frank truly never gets tired of tracing her scars. like he's seen them hundreds of times; has been privy to their stories hundreds of times, but they never fail to take his breath away.

like all he has to do is whisper, "tell me again how you got this one?" he could truly listen to her speak for hours. her body - and really, everything about her - is an exquisite work of art. something to be revered, and worshipped at all times.

it's a different story when the tables are turned. when they're nose-no-nose between the sheets, or in the humid comfort of their morning shower, she has a front-row seat to the world's most wondrous man, except he rarely (if ever) sees it that way.

this morning, they're spending a little extra time together before frank leaves for a while. she's working hard on being present, and in the moment, but the dread of having him gone for a while still lingers like a spectre in the back of her mind.

"I love these," she confesses, while brushing her fingertips over the myriad of scars that decorate his torso. "tangible evidence of a life well-lived."

frank huffs before murmuring, "yeah? you like your man lookin' like a rough road?"

she nods. "I sure do."

"I'm a mess, kid. these scars are ugly."

she clicks her tongue. "now frank. you wouldn't say my scars look ugly, would you?"

frank hesitates a moment before shaking his head.

"no ma'am, I sure wouldn't."

she can't help the satisfied smirk that tugs at her lips.

"mhm, that's what I thought. now shut up and let me kiss each and every one, to let you know just how much I adore them."

frank snorts. "yes ma'am."

[nanamisgirly]

fould we possibly get more womanizer sugu :3

this looks more like a fic than a head canon...oooops. I hope you will enjoy it !!! MWAHHHH :333 part.1

cw chubby reader, masturbation, jealous geto, reader fingers herself in front of geto while being in couple.

womanizer!geto thinks he's about to catapult that engineering major boy out of the solar system. right. now.

geto is sitting across the room, arms slung over the back of the couch, fists clenched so tight the veins in his forearms pop. his eyes are glued burning to where that poor nerd's hands are gripping your waist, pushing you back against the edge of the kitchen counter during some half-assed apartment party. 

the guy's mouth is low against your ear, whispering something pathetic (he's sure of it) that makes you blush and push at his chest. but apparently not enough for him to back up completely. 

womanizer!geto repeats the same sentences like a mantra “he doesn't know her. he doesn't stand a chance. it's not some pinterest-date plan he probably has in his mind that are going to make her flinch. he doesn't know how she is when her stress hits a fever pitch or when she cries over bad grades. he doesn't even know she chews her pens' cap until they're useless. he. doesn't. stand. a. chance.”

“you let him touch you like that in public?” womanizer!geto leans against the doorframe, smirking lazily, letting his voice drip with mock-casual venom—watching you read some dense academic paper, hoodie two sizes too big. he couldn't restrain himself from asking once you both got home.

you don't even look up as you say, “excuse me?” suguru shrugs, arms crossed, eyes half-lidded, heavy with something darker than amusement. “the way the prop-on-him-self-boy was holding your waist earlier. pretty bold move by the way. thought you were shy.”

you blink, slowly lowering the paper. “i am shy.” he chuckles under his breath—low and unkind. “could've fooled me. guess you get real friendly when someone finally shows you attention, huh?” your lips part in shock, jaw going slack at the nerve—the venom hiding in his fake nonchalance.

“what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” he doesn't bother answer, he just keeps looking at you—daring you to do something of it, mouth still curled in a smirk that doesn't reach his eyes. you hold his stare, mouth tight, throat dry. “if you have a problem with who i'm seeing, suguru, be a man and say it.” his jaw ticks at your words, “i don't—”

“good," your voice cuts him off, "then no problem, right?” he nods once, and pushes off the doorframe, leaving you sitting there, heat crawling up your chest and hands trembling in your lap. 

what you miss to see is the way his fists clench the second he turns away. of course womanizer!geto had no problem, why would he? because his mind was spiraling at the girl he had earlier that night, lips wrapped around his cock while his mind conjured the shape of your mouth instead? because his body refused to come unless he imagined your big soft body squirming against his? 

the next week womanizer!geto is sure he's going to catapult the engineering boy out of this fucking solar system. he's halfway through some miserable cafeteria lunch when he hears your friends whispering too loud few tables away. “her boyfriend said she came twice” one of them giggles. another leans in, dramatic “she told me he gave her a massage and it turned into, like…a whole thing. .” and the final bow, “she even said he was the best she ever had.” suguru's hands curl into fists under the table, knuckles popping loud enough to make heads turn.

even gojo stops yapping mid-sentence, blinking at him, but geto doesn't hear a single word. his ears are ringing too loud, blood pounding behind them like a drum. all he can think about is you, your possibly messy moans, your pretty face, your fat thighs locking someone else's waist.

it rots him from the inside out.

womanizer!geto goes home right after that and jerks off twice. back-to back. once angrily, under cold water, cursing your name like a prayer. and again, this time slower… worse…because now the image in his head is you under that stupid stem boy. your soft hips rocked by clumsy fingers, your plush thighs spread wide for a cock that doesn't deserve you. geto shouldn't be hard for that. shouldn't want to watch it like some deranged freak.

but here he is—balls aching, cock leaking in his palm—jerking himself through gritted teeth, groaning low in his chest as he imagines your soft belly rippling under the weight of another man's body. he cums with a guttural snarl, forehead slamming the cold tile, imagining your tits bouncing, your glasses sliding down your nose as you whimper for someone who isn't him.

womanizer!geto tries to fuck someone else the next night—some hot girl, tight waist, full lips, half-dressed and panting all over him. but his cock seems stubborn. dead weight in his jeans. not even a twitch. she moans against his neck, grinding her hips against him on the couch, whispering that she wants to ride him all night—

but all he can do is thinking about you. 

you, in your stretched-out pajama shorts. you, soft and plush everywhere, a little roll of tummy peeking when your tanktop rides up. you, mouth parted around your pencil when you're focused.

and the next time you're all alone with womanizer!geto in your living room, a late night study session for the upcoming test, he doesn't even try to act normal at the sight of your thick dimpled thighs tucked under you. you're rambling about something, showing him your notes—unaware of the way his eyes devour you. you look so sweet. fuck, he bets you taste so sweet.

he's staring at the half-faded bruise blooming across your collarbone when your voice pulls him back, “suguru…?”

“do you moan for him?” it slips out. you freeze at the sudden question. “wha—”

“your little stem boy,” he says, eyes dark. “when he fucks you. do you moan for him?” the silence is brutal. you open your mouth, close it again, cheeks burning, “that's none of your business.” 

he smirks, leans in like a viper. “you sound like you could.” mock sympathy is dripping from every word. and nastier, “if he had a better dick than, what, three inches hard? maybe you would." his eyes glint, "be honest, nerd. he never makes you come, does he?”

the slap cracks across the room, hard enough your hand stings. hard enough to whip his head to the side. his cheek blooms red, but all he does is breathe hard—cock aching, swelling mean against his zipper. your heart is pounding, shame and rage boiling under your skin as you shove your notebook off your lap and storm toward your room.

womanizer!geto probably isn't thinking with his brain anymore as he follows you to your room. he stands in your doorframe just like he did two weeks ago, except this time, his eyes are pure fire—a mix of anger and hunger.

his eyes piercing yours, challenging you. his jaw is clenched so tight it looks painful and you should scream at him to leave your room, should shove him out. . and you're about to—but when your eyes fall down to the heavy, swollen bulge in his jeans, you loose all your rationality.

“get on the bed.” the words split the air, hot and final. you blink at him, confused and furious…soaked. your eyes following his every movements as he goes to sit on your desk chair, drops into with all the lazy arrogance in the world. his hand drapes over his thigh, just inches from the thick imprint stretching his pants.

“i won't repeat myself.” the mockery is thick on his tongue. “you can hate me later. you can even hate me forever if that's what you want. but right now?” his voice drops. “right now, you're gonna listen.” something deep inside you twists—dizzying. and before you realize what you're doing, you clim onto your own bed—like some pathetic, brainless thing. you glare at him, trying to save whatever pride you have left.

geto leans back further into the chair, his fingers thumbing the thick ridge of his cock. he tips his chin. “show me.” your stomach flips. “show you…what?” you whisper, already knowing—already burning. 

“don't play dump, nerdy. you're too smart for that.” his voice is syrup-thick, fingers taping against the desperate strain against his rough denim. “show me how wet you got after slapping me like a brat.” your throat closes. “no,” you breathe out, a pitiful little sound of defiance but your thighs are betraying you, pressing tighter together. geto grins, “you're already soaking through those dumb little shorts, might as well let me see the mess you made."

womanizer!geto watches like a predator trapping his prey. his chest rises, slow and deep, extremely controlled compared to the raging war breaking inside you. his hand squeezes his cock through his jeans. he licks his lips, hungry. “touch yourself for me, pretty thing. show me how desperate you are for me instead of that useless fucking loser you keep calling your boyfriend. go on. be good.”

your traitorous hand slips under your waistband. the second your fingers brush the sticky heat between your thighs, your breath shatters from your lungs. your fingers tremble as you press harder, rubbing desperate little circles into your clit. you're trying to be quiet, to pretend you have a shred of dignity left—but the wet sounds are obscene and unmistakable. 

geto's groan rips through the room—raw an broken, a sound like he's been punched. “tell me, pretty girl," he rasps, “is it dripping already? just from me talking to you?” your whimper is an answer enough, high and shameful, your cheeks burn under his gaze. ”get your shorts off," he commands, voice shredded. "and the panties too. now."

your hands shake so badly it takes two tries to peel your shorts down your thick thighs. your panties stick wetly, peeling away from your messy pussy with a filthy noise. the cold air hits you, your cunt gleaming under the soft light. geto leans forward in the chair, forearms braced on his knees, his stare burning between your legs like he's trying to sear it into his skull.

you try to remain a bit more decent, and close your legs shut together. “nuh-uh." he tsks. "what you doin', pretty? keep them open for me. don't be shy. lemme see all that messy pussy you were hiding.” tears are prickling behind your eyes from how exposed you feel as your legs fall open. geto's pupils blow wide. “fuck,” he mutters, dragging a rough hand over his face. “you're leaking. that's such a mess. and all i did was talk.”

you can't speak—can't think—your whole body is shaking as you rub yourself faster, chasing some kind of release, slick noises filling the room. every tiny touch feels too much and not enough at the same time.

geto is fighting everything in him not to move from the chair, watching like a man starved, squeezing his cock hard enough to hurt. “go on, pretty.” he croons darkly "put a finger in." your fingers fumble, slipping through the wetness before finally pushing inside. your walls flutter around your own digit, too tight, too needy. he lets out a brutal, bitten-off moan, grinding his hips against his palm—matching your pace.

“stop biting your lip,” he growls, “wanna hear you, pretty.” your moans breaks free—small and shameful at first, then louder when you start fucking yourself. “that's it,” his eyes are locked between your legs, “nice and slow, sweet girl. let me see how desperate you can get for me.” it's humiliating, disgusting, how fast you're falling apart, how quickly your hips are starting to chase your own fingers, trying to fuck yourself deeper.

sweat drips down his temple, cock throbbing and leaking so much in his boxer. he shifts again, rutting his hips shamelessly against his palm—chasing friction he desperately wanted you to give him. “bet you never do this for him,” he sneers, “bet that poor stem doesn't know he packed a slutty cunt. a needy one.” you gasp, a pitiful sound.

“does he, at least, get you this wet?” his words whip across the room like a lash. “when he touches you. .” your fingers speed up frantically, thighs quivering “when he fucks you. .” his smirk is vicious as he read through you, “quiet little good girl," he drawls, stepping closer. “saving all that greedy cunt for him, hoping he'll know what to do with it.” he's on you before you can process he even got up—looming over you at the edge of the bed, huge and terrifying and perfect. one big hand cups your jaw, tilting your flushed face up to meet his. his thumb smears sweat and tears across your cheek. ”pretty thing," he hisses, voice shaking with how hard he's holding back. “all soft and sweet. spread out so nice for me.” 

if you dare glanced down, you could've seen the soaked patch growing bigger. “i should be disgusted,” he whispers, “should leave your desperate little fat ass begging. sobbing for it.” he presses in closer, nose brushing yours, breath hot and heavy. “you're close, aren't you? fucking yourself stupid in front of me. can't even help it.” his forehead tips against yours. “come for me, sweetie." he murmurs, almost lovingly this time. "make a mess all over that pretty cunt. prove he's nothing.”  the filthy command punches the air out of your lungs.

you cry out, loud and shameless, thighs shaking violently as your orgasm crashes over you—drenching your hand and the sheets, rinding it out belly trembling and hips bucking helplessly.

geto watches it all—breathing ragged, knuckles white against the bedspread—but he never touches you. instead, he leans down and presses a filthy, tender kiss to your sweaty forehead. his cock still twitching violently in his pants, he's never been this hard his whole life. not even when he got onto threesome with twins.

and then—still hard, still starving for you—he stands.

he leaves you there, panting, twitching, soaking the sheets. your hand sticky, your cunt fluttering around nothing. your mind a ruined mess of him and only him.

he doesn't look back.

the door clicks softly shut behind him.

you lie there, empty—knowing no one else would ever make you feel so filthy, so wanted, so his.

ᖰ⌯'▾'⌯ᖳ

[keirareidss]

father figure - a.h

♡ summary: reader has never had a good relationship with her father, so when hotch shows up for her, she's not quite sure what to do

pairing: father figure!aaron hotchner x fem!artist!reader (platonically!)

warnings: reader has a bad relationship with her family, crying, tooth rotting fluff, inspired by the episode in the office where Michael goes to Pam's art show

wc: 1.5k

You sat on the plane wringing your hands anxiously. The team had just finished a big case in Orlando. It wasn't as bad as usual, leaving the team tired but not traumatized. You were nervous for your art show coming up at the local exhibition hall. You wanted the team to come and see your art because you didn't have anyone else to show up for you. Your family never supported your art, your mom claiming that it just distracted you from your schoolwork and your dad saying that you'll never go anywhere in life. Just ask them. Just ask if they want to go. Just ask.

"Hey-" You cut yourself off, clearing your rough throat. "Uh, does anyone want to come see my art show this weekend?" You asked the team.

"I can appreciate good art." Rossi smiled, reliving some of the tightness in your chest.

"Ooh, I am definitely in." Penelope chimed in.

"I'll try to come." JJ said, glancing at you for a second before going back to typing on her phone.

"Great, I'll uh- I'll text you guys the time." You said, feeling a lot lighter than before. Your team would support you. They were like your family. Of course they'd say yes, they're all great people.

You couldn't wait for your art exhibit. You've been doing art since you were young, a way of coping with your... family problems. It was, as your therapist said, a way to process your emotions. You expelled what you felt onto the canvas and once you were done, being able to step back and look at the piece as a whole, it felt good. Relieving.

Once you got back home, you texted the BAU group chat the time and place of your exhibition. You could barely sleep that night, anxious for the weekend.

It was crowded. Crowds make you anxious. You couldn't help it. Maybe it stemmed from the time your parents left you at the mall and you waited in the crowds of people for them to come back. It took over an hour for them to realize you were even gone.

You looked around the art exhibit, hoping for any glimpse of your friends. After an hour had gone by, you were leaning against the wall, insecurely tugging at your dress. Were you too dressed up? Everyone else was wearing jeans. Was the hem of the dress too short? You were feeling entirely self conscious and it sucked. So far, only two people have come up to completely see your work. One, a sweet old woman who complimented you art and the second, a couple whose conversation you overheard when coming back from the bathroom.

"It just feels bland. Like, there's no emotion."

"Yeah, I get that. Like if you're not even going to try, then why make art in the first place."

"Honestly." He rolled his eyes and they walked away from your art. You crossed your arms over your body.

After nearly three hours and no other visitors, you decided to give up. You pushed off the wall, turning to take down your failed art exhibit when you heard a voice behind you.

"Am I late?" You turned to find Hotch, dressed more casually than at work but still made up nicely. "I'm sorry, Jack didn't want to go to bed." He gave you an apologetic smile. "Did everyone else already leave?" He asked when you didn't say anything.

"Um..." His gaze moved to the art pieces behind you.

"Wow. Are these yours?" He asks, stepping closer to look at your art.

"Yeah." You said dumbly.

"They're amazing. I bet Rossi liked this one, huh?" He chuckled, pointing to one of your pieces. You stayed silent. "These are really good. You're very talented." He said, turning to you with a soft smile.

"Thank you." You stammered out. His expression fell slightly.

"Is something wrong?" He asked, noticing your shifty demeanor.

"No. No, I'm fine." You said. Hotch looked around, noticing how empty the exhibit seemed, many of the guests having cleared out by now.

"Has it been this empty the whole time?"

"No, it was a lot busier earlier in the night."

"Did you get a lot of guests?" He asks, his head tilted slightly.

"Uh... a few." You lied. Hotch stared at you for a few seconds and you immediately knew he was profiling you. Before you could tell him to cut it out, he spoke.

"None of them showed up, did they?" He asked and you knew he was talking about the team.

"Um..." You trailed off and Hotch sighed.

"I'm sorry." He began to apologize and you shook your head.

"Oh, no, it's fine."

"They shouldn't have stood you up-"

"No, really, it's- it's fine." You said, crossing your arms as if to shield yourself from his pity. He says your name in that gentle way of his that always makes your eyes well up with tears. "I'm used to it."

"That makes it worse." Hotch said, his voice incredibly soft.

"I'm fine." You chuckle wetly, surprised at how quickly you started to get emotional. He steps closer, putting a gentle hand on your arm. "It's okay." You said, blinking quickly to push the tears back. You look down at your shoes, avoiding his gaze.

"Oh, honey." Aaron pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around you. Your arms circle his torso, burying your face in his chest.

"I'm sorry." You cried.

"Sweetheart, why are you sorry?"

"... I don't know."

"It's okay." Hotch holds you tight, letting you cry into his chest. Once your eyes were dry, you pulled away, wiping your cheeks and looking guiltily at the small stain on his shirt from your tears.

"Sorry." You mumbled.

"It's alright. I'm sorry no one showed up. They're missing out." You just waved him off but he continued. "Really. Your art is extraordinary."

"Thank you." You murmured. "But, um, I think I'm just going to go." You said, moving to take your art down.

"Let me help you." Hotch said. He was extremely careful when peeling your pieces off the wall. You packed them all up and carried your bags out, Hotch insisting to take some of them. He held the door for you like a gentleman and stood on the sidewalk with you. "Did you drive here?"

"Uh, no, but I'll get an Uber or something." You said, attempting to get your phone from your purse.

"No, let me give you a ride. Please."

"Oh, Hotch, no-"

"Please. It's the least I can do." He was already putting your bags into his backseat. You sighed and got into the passenger side. After a few minutes of awkward silence, Aaron spoke up again. "If I may... why didn't your family come?" He asks, wincing immediately as he realized how nosy he was being. "I'm sorry, that- you don't have to answer that, I shouldn't have-"

"No, no. It's fine. Um... my parents haven't always been very supportive of my art. They always said it would take me nowhere in life."

"I'm sorry."

"No, please, it doesn't matter. They were right." You stared out the window, avoiding his gaze. Hotch didn't know what to say. He'd had his fair share of family troubles, sure, but they were his. He could deal with them internally. He hasn't had much experience with comforting other people in this area. He'd always wanted to make sure that his own son, Jack, never felt that way towards him. He needed to be better than his own father.

"I'm sorry." He says your name reverently. "I'm sorry that you had to deal with that and I'm sorry you don't think you're good enough. You are. Your work is amazing. Excuse my language but, it was shitty of the team to not show up for you when you needed them."

"It's fine. They're probably just busy." Aaron shakes his head.

"You don't always have to brush everything off. I know you think that if you act like you don't care it won't matter but I also know that you still feel it. Deep down, you're still disappointed." Your eyes were welling up again. Hotch reached over the console to take your hand in his, squeezing it. You stayed silent until the car pulled up outside your place. You got out, grabbing your stuff from the backseat. Hotch got out as well, pulling you into a hug. "I'm proud of you." He murmurs into your hair. "I'm so proud."

[kaliforniahigh]

I want you laying me down, 'till we dead and buried - n.s.

How Noah asked exwife!reader to marry him when they were young.

This is another installment to the exhusband!Noah and exwife!reader fic I posted recently. I'm not really good with timelines, but they're around 20 here.

Warnings: no warnings on this one, just pure fluff and a proposal.

WC: 1.1k.

It was a cold Sunday night, you and Noah were laying in bed, the cozy and heavy blankets over the two of you. You had just eaten dinner a couple of hours ago, and were now watching a movie on the television.

The bedroom wasn't big, neither was the apartment, but it was enough for the two of you. When you and Noah moved in together, you already knew it wasn't gonna be anything too fancy. Having just turned twenty, with you working as an apprentice at a studio downtown, and Noah making money from the gigs with his band, there was only so much you both could afford.

But it didn't stop you from feeling like you were living the life you've always wanted.

No amount of money could pay for the feeling of coming home from a stressful day and feeling Noah's arms enveloping you in his embrace. Or, when you felt like the whole world was against you, and he reassured you that everything was going to be fine.

"When we finally buy our big and fancy house, we're definely going to have a heating system for the winter", Noah says beside you. You let out a little laugh and snuggled closer to him.

"Why do we need a heating system? We can just share body heat", you say as he wraps his arms around you a little tighter, pulling you impossibly closer.

"And I love sharing body heat. I just don't like sleeping with this many blankets", he points out, grumbly. You think he's the cutest when he whines about simple things, like having to use too many blankets.

"Well, when we buy our big, fancy house, I want heated floors on the bathroom. I hate stepping on the cold floor when I just had a hot shower", you tell him, making you own request known, and it's his turn to smile.

You and Noah dreamed about the future a lot. How things are going to be in eight, or ten years. You don't know how to explain it, but you just had a feeling inside of you that was certain he would make it.

More often than not, Noah would tell you that his faith in this music thing he was trying was wavering. And he told you how uncertain he was about the path he has chosen in life. You just told him that it takes time. He has the talent and dedication - so much dedication - he just had to wait until the good things started happening.

What you always told him though, is that he should start singing too. You knew he wasn't as confident in his voice yet, but whenever you caught him muttering a song under his breath, or singing something when he tought you couldn't hear, you couldn't stop thinking of how much potential he had to create something incredible.

"Anything for the lady. You ask and it shall be delivered", he salutes in odedience and you laugh at his exaggeration, even though you knew he would keep this in his head for when the time came.

"Do you really think we're gonna have a big, fancy house?", you ask him, honestly. He thinks for a moment before answering.

"I really do", he affirms, leaving out the part where he knows you two will be married by then as well. Truthfully, he hasn't asked you yet solely because he didn't have the money to buy you the ring he thinks you deserve. But he has all of the intention in the world to marry you.

"Do you think we'll be married by then?", you ask and it catches him off-guard. Have you been reading his mind? Have you also been thinking about this as much as he has? You must've been, to ask him this question, so unprompted.

Marriage has been a topic of conversation a few times during your relationship, and both of you agreed that it would happen at the right time. You just didn't know when that would be.

"Do you want us to be married by then?", he throws back the question at you, trying to go off of your answer.

"Sure, but we don't know when that will be. What if it's in ten years? Do we want to wait that much?", you say, and he sure as hell knows he does not want to wait that much to marry you.

"I'd marry you next week if I could", he says, nonchalantly, as if that was the most normal thing to say.

You get up into a half sitting position, your elbow supporting you on the bed, as you look at him.

"Noah, please. Marriage takes a lot of planning and money", you observe.

"I know that, and I know that you'd love to plan everything to the last detail. I'm just saying that, if it was up to me, we'd have a marriage license by next week", he shrugs his shoulders, and you're still looking a him. He can't really tell what you're thinking, and he doesn't know if it scares him or not.

"Bold of you to say that when you haven't even proposed yet", you point out, a smirk on your lips, knowing that you got him there.

"Well, do you?", he asks.

"Do I what?"

"Do you want to marry me?"

"You know I want to marry you", you tell him. Does he really need to ask?

"I'm asking officially. Will you marry me?"

It takes you a second to register what he's actually asking you, but when it does, you can't believe it. You're inside your little apartment, laying in bed, hair disheveled and there's a weird stain on your pajama. But, somehow, you also think that it couldn't have been more perfect.

You gauge the way he's looking at you, and even though he wants to ask like he's not nervous, you can tell. His eyes are so expressive that has given him away more times than you could count. And, right now, he's looking at you like you're holding his entire world in your hands.

"Of course I'll marry you", you said, and throw yourself in his arms. In seconds, your lips are on his, and he's gripping the back of your head firmly, not wanting you to pull away. He's relieved, you can tell, and wonder if there's a world where he thought you would say no.

Because the prospect of getting to do this forever makes you the happiest you've ever been.

"We need rings now", Noah says against your lips, smiling.

"I have an idea if you don't mind", you suggest, and he tells you to go ahead.

You get up from the bed and grab your tattoo kit, and in an hour or so, both of you have two crisp lines tattooed on your ring fingers. Yours a little more wobbly than Noah's, since he doesn't have the experience you have with tattoo machines. But you don't really care. This is perfect.

"There we go", Noah says, putting his hand on top of yours, observing your handy works. "Forever".

"Forever".

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If you haven't been tagged, it's because your blog doesn't mention your age, or it is empty!

[littlevenicebiatch]

What if reader got their period and having a meltdown and when I say meltdown I mean everything.

Triggered from the hormones, work, maybe some problems with friends and/or family, the cramps and backpain, their favourite shirt is in the washing machine, the apple is sour, one of the boys blocked the bath just a minute too long and someone ate the last chocolate bar.

Now it's just crying, shaking, horse voice but still talking (talking means only the vowels come out) , the boys tring to comfort them but every touch is too much, even the shirt and sweatpants they're wearing feels uncomfortable.

They feel everything; their skin, their heartbeat and everyting's too loud.

Totally not self-indulged and didn't happen to me just last week

I love this idea, thanks so much

You were sitting on the floor of the hall in front of the bathroom, hugging your knees, crying. You heard steps approaching and someone knelt down beside you. "Hey lass, you allright?" It was Soap and he seemed very concerned for you.

"Noo" You replied while sobbing. His big hand slowly carassed your arm, before he stood up again. "Well, uhm, I'll get Simon, okay?" You only managed to nod. A few seconds later you coud already hear him running down the hall and sitting down beside you. "Darlin, whats wrong? Talk to me." His thick accent was so familiar and somewhat comforting. You looked up, your mascara smudged from all the tears. "I'm on my period." "Oh" He said rather akwardly, but you interrupted him before he could even say anything else. "And we are out of icecream and someone is in the bathroom, I am filthy and my eyeliner is gone now.."

You sobbed again and rested your head against his chest. "Oh, sweetie, I am so sorry." He whispered in your ear. "Look, how about I order you some frozen jooghurt, you love that right? And I will kick out whoever is occupying the bathroom." You couldnt really speak, sobbing again, so you nodded slowly.

Thirty minutes later you were in the bathroom, Simon standing behind you. "Uhm, Dalring, I should probably leave, huh?"

"No" You whispered. "Stay with me." Simon nodded. "all right." He removed your shirt and pants, then he slowly removed your bra, it wasnt sexual at all, it was caring. He took of your period underweard and helped you in the tub. "Can I, ya know, wash ya?" He asked, kind of lost. "But the blood, its disgusting." Simon chuckled lowly. "Dalring, I kill for a living, I am not afraid of a little blood."

So he wshed you, he put soap on every part of your, his hands were firm but carefull on your body. Afterwards he dried you off, Simon put you in one of his shirts and put on fresh period-panties. Lastly he put you in sweatpants.

Now, ten minutes later you sat in your bed, in Simons lap, eating your favourite frozen-joghurt while he brushed your wet hair. "Feelin better, love?" "Yes, thank you Simon." "Anytime"

[anonmousegosqueak]

Kilts and stuff with Popy!141!

So we chatted this shit until exhaustion in the chat and I'm happy about it, but i needed to share.

Johnny gifts them kilts made with his clan's pattern and they all love him. Soap got them made by his grandma when he sent her the measurements to notbleave anyone with a kilt shorter than normal (Ghost in particular) Soap teaches them how to keep them and how to dress with those even in casual situations and after a bit of time, since they are all horny and he doesn't want to ruin their kilts he makes some smaller (sluttyer) versions that are designed for each of them with charms. Just for when they get horny though. The smaller versions are so fucking short they barely cover the coverable and they still wear them the classic style (they obviously wear that at home and at home ONLY).

Ghosts is with black tartan and with small skull charms at the sides along with a small decorative chain that can be used to manhandle him.

Gaz has a light blue one with extra padding underneath to make it look fluffier and it has a little knife charm on one side and a gun charm on the other.

Price hets a short orange one that matches with his beard and has a cigar on one side and a boonie hat on the other.

Nik gets a dark green one with a small heli on one side and a cigar on the other, along with a small mask charm in the shape of a slaughter to prevail mask (because he canonically listens to that band)

Red gets a bright red one with a lighter on one side (fake) and a duck in the other.

Soap gets a teal one with a bomb on one side and a little heart on the other.

They can finally fuck with kilts without having to worry about ruining the big kilts!

AGHHH- I REMEMBER TALKING ABOUT THIS!!!

Oh my goodness, this is adorable.

Soap works with his grandma to make six beautiful custom kilts and he's trying to be all sneaky about it, right? Not just hiding it from his partners, but hiding the fact that they are *for* his partners.

Eventually he accidentally lets slip and she's just like "aww that's sweet! Good lad for making them proper MacTavish's."

She does NOT care that he's both gay, but gay and in a relationship with five other big burly dudes.

So yeah, one wonderful Christmas he gives them the kilts and it's beautiful and there's lots of crying, right?

But a problem quickly arises!

Soap is... Well there's something about seeing his friends- his boys, seeing them all pretty and in the MacTavish clan colors. He's a hound dog after all 😔

Ghost literally has to swat him away *several* times, reminding him that "Absolutely not. You'll ruin the things. If you cum in your kilt, I ain't helping you clean it up." And poor Soap is so conflicted. On the one hand, he's so proud and takes such good care of his kilt. On the other hand, he has five beautiful boys who aren't wearing anything under what is essentially a skirt.

So yeah- he's coming back to his grandma real quick to help him make a second set. Smaller? Nah, don't even worry about it GamGam, it's fine.

Anyways, custom miniskirt-kilts anyone?

And oh boy does he love it. They all do.

Johnny loves just randomly dropping to his knees in front of Simon, shoving his head under the kilt and having fun (all while poor Si is just trying to cook dinner)

Nik absolutely slides a hand under Price's kilt to cope a feel or even to leave some marks on Price's ass (horny old men go brrr)

And you don't even wanna *know* what Gaz and Red are doing (they're the most tame honestly, I just think it's hilarious)

The charms come later and it's *adorable*- until they start mixing charms and swapping one whenever they finish up having some fun. You'll regularly see Price with a little bomb instead of the normal boonie hat charm, or Nik with a lighter instead of his heli. They swap 'em back... Eventually. Aka whenever they fuck in the mini-kilts again.

DO YOU SEE THE VISION??

[skimmingmilk]

Can I pry ur mind for any headcannons u have between the unbreakable bond? Maybe even ones u've yet to include in ur fics?

Ooh, I'd be happy to! I'm just so bad at listing out headcanons without fics to sandwich them in xD I know I have a ton that I haven't had a chance to write about yet, but it's like they're sorted in filing cabinets that only open when a relevant fic needs them, lol.

But let's see…

Tails doesn't actually have a curfew. Sonic will give him a look if he catches him up in the middle of the night, but he's well-aware the kid's a bit of insomniac. As long as it isn't hurting him or putting him in danger by being too sleep-deprived, then Sonic doesn't force him to bed. It’s not like he can’t sleep in or anything anyway. If he's already dozing off at his desk, then Sonic'll put him to bed, sure, but that's just to make him more comfortable. If he's alert and in the middle of a project, Sonic leaves him to it. He'll even keep him company sometimes, because no way does Sonic have a curfew either! If he gets sleepy later in the day, he figures he can always just take a nap.

They like to go skydiving together, taking turns flying and jumping off the Tornado. When Tails installs an autopilot on her, they're able to jump at the same time and do tricks in the air to one-up each other or practice mid-air saves with style~

Their tastes in video games vary: Sonic prefers classic side scrollers, racing games, and fighting games. Tails likes exploratory puzzle games with open worlds where he can explore and craft and he’s also really good at first-person shooters. They do both enjoy playing with each other still, regardless of the format, that's just what they tend to prefer when solo-gaming. Sonic will absolutely play something like Minecraft or Lethal Company with Tails (and die a lot xD) and Tails loves getting to beat Sonic's button mashing technique in a fighting game. I also think they both like to team up for anomaly hunting games, I feel like that's something they'd both find fun for a couple rounds while they wind down after an adventure. Sonic's quick reflexes would help him catch anomalies as they're happening and Tails likes analyzing the scenes for subtle differences. They can only go a couple rounds though before it puts Sonic to sleep, lol.

They’ve both picked up on some of their species-specific behaviors unintentionally. Like Tails sometimes curls into a hedgehog ball with his fur fluffed out to feel safe and he’ll make huffy, snuffly hedgehog sounds from time to time. Sonic's tail will wag a little when he's happy, since hedgehogs typically only wag their tails when they sense danger. I know it's a cute headcanon many people have for him expressing happiness in general, and I love to see it, but this is just my headcanon for why he’ll do that sometimes, and it’s pretty unique to him as far as hedgehogs go and completely involuntary.

When Sonic's around, he cooks pretty much all their meals, though Tails will sometimes want to experiment with a new recipe or cook something for Sonic. He likes cooking for other people. When Tails is left to his own devices while Sonic's traveling, however, his eating habits suffer. He loses track of time and ends up subsiding solely on snacks throughout the day instead, like his veggie chips or roasted chickpeas or mint candy. If he does make something, it's always fast and simple like a bowl of cereal or a peanut butter sandwich. Sometimes Big will stop by with some fish stew to share with him and Sonic usually makes sure to bring a hefty bag of takeout back with him, just in case it's been a while since Tails's last substantial meal.

In return, Tails is the one who keeps pretty much every other aspect of his and Sonic's lives on track xD He keeps a calendar for him and reminds him of things like friends' birthdays or events he promised to go to. Any paperwork involving Sonic is taken care of by Tails. Upkeep on the workshops and the planes are also Tails's responsibility. He also does all the shopping and inventory of household supplies in the workshop. Tails is very good at scheduling most things into his day, eating is just not one of them.

Tails has a few pieces of Sonic merchandise he picked up when he was younger - when it wasn't as embarrassing to say his big brother was his hero. They're kept in his room, mostly out of sight, but he's got a Sonic plushie that he keeps wrapped in one of Sonic's gloves so it'll smell a little like him and he'll sleep with it whenever he's feeling particularly lonely. It's part of why he gets into the habit of working late into the night; it's hard to lie awake in bed in a quiet, dark house by himself. With only his thoughts and nothing to drown them out. He's not afraid of the dark or being alone, but it's the stillness and the emptiness (the void) that encourages him to stay up until he physically can't keep his eyes open any more. Sometimes having the Sonic plush helps with that (not that anyone knows).

Those are just some of the headcanons I have that I don't think have played very major roles in any fics yet. I've got a few WIPs that incorporate a couple of them, but I'm not sure if they'll ever get to become full-fledged fics.

Thanks for the ask! <3

[lavenderbuckyy]

appreciation post for some of my favourite fandom people ✨

a non-exhaustive list of incredible writers, artists, gif makers, editors, headcanon writers and friends!!<3

@meidui miss princess of stonydom cassie where do i even start... your fics are impeccable and you're a really talented writer as well as a lovely friend <3

@cloudbells my jayjay my shaylaaa!!<3 i love your fic ideas, your role as #1 hypewoman, how you are so good at noticing tiny details i wouldn't have ever thought of! call me again so we can be crazy about stony together<3

@musette22 minnie you are such a sweetie pie and a lovely force to have in the fandom!! i really value the comments you leave on my fics, moodboards and edits 🩷

@rillils rilsrilsrils i wuv you <3 you're so good at noticing things other people wouldn't pick up on, and you're so sweet and encouraging and motivating! i want to keep u in my pocket

@stuckydrewx drew your headcanons and meme posts bring me life, they're so freaking cute and funny!!! <3 i love seeing you on my dash. irish steve 5EVER.

@lanalanakova ahhh my black market dealer of stucky doujinshi and PTA mom steve, how i treasure you<3 i love talking to you on the server and hearing your cute ideas!

@metalbvcky MANDY your brain is so excellent i want to climb in there and leech your ideas from you. i love your bloom!verse so bad i think of it daily. you are the bestest

@team-cap-for-the-win kinda crazy i'm typing this when i could walk to the next room of our steve-themed mansion to tell you in person since we're married and all, but i love hearing you chime in in the server and i think you are SO funny!!<3

@heckalecki THE author of THE best bucky recovery series on THE planet and also my treasured friend <3 i love to talk to you and i love your big empathetic heart!

@bulkyphrase THE source for the best steve fic ever <3 bulky, you're so funny and sweet and clever. thank you for hosting steve movie nights and thank you for all you do! i pledge allegiance to the flag of BULKY 🫡🫡

@ace-in-reserve your comments on my fics are my EVERYTHING and i love the adorable art you reblog!!!! <3

@plincess-cho miss aixing!!!<3 i think you are just the greatest. even though you aren't into stucky so much now your kind words will always resonate with me and stay with me 🩷

@relevant-catnik cat you are so fun to have on the server! i love hearing your perspectives on things! we kind of united in the stucky to stony and stucky pipeline (the steve server is a gateway drug...) always really treasure your comments on my fics!!! 🩷

@turtle-steverogers MIKEY i kind of owe you the world and planet and universe but for now i will settle for thanking you for creating a lovely space for steve fans, through which i've made so many friends, grew in my writing, met my bff and found a lovely community. i wish you the best FOREVER

@preyasi love love love to see you on my dash!! i hope you're doing well as THE bucky ride or die. <33

@dreadlockholiday dreadyyy!!! i love your stories so much and was SO happy when you came back to the fandom. your stucky is the most adorable thing i want to cuddle up in your headcanons and never leave<3

@howdoyousleep3 forevereverever in awe of your fics. i love all your stucky pairings SO much and i honestly think you are one of my favourite fanfic authors i have ever, ever come across. may a similar love find me because your writing has raised my standards sky high LOL <333

@moodymelanist MORGAN, one of my oldest friends in this fandom and one of the very sweetest!! you are so cool and i honestly look up to you so much (i want to be morgan when i grow up). i love your writing and our chats<3 much love!!!

@moontashpena we have never talked but you are my fave stucky artist ever ever ever. i will forever be one of your biggest fans 🥹🥰

@sanguineterrain my best friend and my bae and my beloved <3 if witnessing... THAT video... didn't scare you off i know nothing will. love you forever and ever!!!

[discountlittlebro]

Needy little thing, ain't ya?

Mom and Dad are too busy during parent weekend to visit Big Brother at college, and he's okay with that. His roommate decided to go home instead for the long weekend, so he got the dorm all to himself.

There's this loudness in the hall, and he stares at the door in confusion, hearing someone give a wolf whistle. He pokes his head out, and there's his precious little brother, blushing and stuttering around all the guys. A fire burns in his belly.

He storms over, snatches his wrist, and yanks him back into his dorm, locking the door behind him. "What are you doing here?" "I wanted to surprise you!" A beat passes. "Do you want me to leave? Oh god, I'm so stupid."

Big Brother cups his sweet angel's jaw instantly and kisses him sweetly. "No, no, you aren't stupid. I'm just.. surprised, that's all." He let's his eyes trail over what his brother decided to wear to a college campus. "Tell me you brought different clothes, though." Thank fuck, he did.

Big Bro gives him a tour, keeping him tucked under his arm the entire time. When they get food, they're tucked away in the worst booth in the back corner so no one sees his baby.

On the way back to the dorms, Big Brother turned his head for one second and some guy smacked his baby's ass. He's on them in a second, fist colliding with their face, their eye already starting to swell. "I'll break your fucking hand next time."

Tucking his brother back under his arm, he kisses his forehead sweetly. "Need to get you a collar or something. Make sure everyone knows you're taken." And if baby bro left the campus with a gross amount of hickeys on his neck... that was no one's business.

-🐾

Giggling thinking about the reactions when he visits with his parents next time and everyone realizes that’s not just his baby, no that’s his fucking baby brother