huntingbird & fitzsimmons + marvelâs most wanted au requested by @idecaesteckers
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@bobsteacup
huntingbird & fitzsimmons + marvelâs most wanted au requested by @idecaesteckers

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My goal in life is to be one of those people who are just light. You see them and you suddenly feel so warm inside and all you want to do is hug them. And they look at you and smile with the warmest light in their eyesâŚ. and you love them. maybe not in a romantic way but you just want to be close to them and you hope some of their light transfers onto you.
When your youngest sister runs off with Mr. Wickham
random moments of daisy johnson appreciation [42/?]: hot, hot, HOT in 3.14 watchdogs.
people are always like âare you a morning person or a night personâ and Iâm just like buddy Iâm barely even a person

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bobbi/hunter + makeable
Please reblog if you enjoy Marvel and you're a woman
run | huntingbird
Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months and months turned into a year. Today marked a year since the last time she had seen his face, heard his voice, felt his touch. That stupid shit-eating grin. That cocky accent of his. The gentle touches. Everything felt like a distant memory. And too often Bobbi couldnât even tell if perhaps Lance Hunter only had been a fickle of her imagination. But she knew he werenât. He was far from fictional. He was as real as the bottle of Vodka in front of her. And maybe that, was what hurt so much. He was. He were. Not is. Not anymore. Had she known what lay ahead of them, she wouldnât have argued with him so much. She wouldnât have let him sleep on the couch after every argument. She wouldnât have put her job before them - before him. She would have calmed down and spoken softly to him. She would have stayed in his arms and kissed each and every scar on his chest. She would have been with him. Always - when she still had the chance, when she still could. Thatâs what she would have done. If she had known. Bobbi stared out the window. It wasnât raining or cloudy like it always were in movies. It was sunny. People were living down there on the streets. Couples holding hands, kids laughing, dogs barking. It was a beautiful day. And that made the pain ever worse. No one ever told her that the sun could make tears fall the same way it could also make people smile. Maybe she had loved the sun too fondly in the way that Icarus had. She shut her eyes and gripped tightly onto the bottle. It hurt. Her eyes were stinging behind her eyelids but she continued to keep them closed, continued to hold so tightly onto the bottle of vodka that it might have broken in her hand. All in hope that she might wake up from this year long nightmare. After what felt like hours later, she opened her eyes. And she laughed. She laughed because she was still sitting in her empty apartment with swollen eyes and a bottle in her hand. She laughed because the world was still out there. She laughed because the pain had made its way into her bones and made a home there. She laughed because she hurt. And then she cried. She cried because she couldnât find the exact place where the hurt was. She cried because she couldnât rip it out. Scrambling to her feet, her blurred eyes scanned the room. The walls had seen so much. The walls had seen an entire story take place and it was time to close the book and starts a new one. She knew that one day, the memory of him would hurt so much, that she wonât be able to breathe. And she would run. She would run in case the pain ever caught up with the places she went to. And she would run until the pain couldnât find her anymore. So she reached for her bag and headed towards the door, turning around one last time to look at the apartment still filled with memories of him. A soft whisper managed to escape her lips and even for just a second, she smiled. âIâll always miss you, Hunter.â And it stung just a little extra knowing that she would never hear him say it back again.
may we meet again.

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I know Bobbi trusts two people: One of them is herself, the other is Lance Hunter, and thatâs it.
Adrianne Palicki, EW âParting Shotâ Postmortem (via fluffycakesistainted)
3.08 // 3.13 âł requested by anonymous
State your full name for the record.
when mom's away | huntingbird
This is for my babi LĂŠa who requested struggling Hunter and a baby. âBobbi is on a mission and Hunter have to be alone with his baby for the first time.â
âThere are about four bottles in the fridge, you know when to feed her and itâs hard to miss when sheâs hungry.â Bobbi slipped her black leather jacket on and looked over at Hunter who bounced the baby in his arms, earning a fit of excited giggles. A smile graced her face and she almost contemplated staying home instead. It wasnât a big mission, both her and Hunter had agreed to take it easy now that they had a little one to take care of, but it was always hard leaving their daughter. Even for just 30 minutes. And this would be the longest theyâve been away from each other since she was born, so it slightly worried her leaving Robin alone with her husband. This would also only be the second time Robinâs fed on bottle. Hunter was sure in for a ride and Bobbi was starting to question her own sanity. What came over her thinking going on a mission and leaving Hunter alone with their one year old was a good idea? She was starting to regret it already and she wasnât even out the door yet. âHunter. Hunter, are you sure about this? I can call Coulson andââ âI got it, Bob. Stop worrying, Iâve got this.â And it wouldnât be until 2 hours later that Lance Hunter realised that he, in fact, did not have it. Bobbi sighed and nodded, looking down at Robin with a warm smile. She was the apple of her eye. Her own blonde locks and Hunterâs brown puppy eyes made a dangerous combination. Bobbi feared the day her daughter would realise the power those pair of warm eyes had. She reached a hand out and stroked back the hair from her face, the baby squealing in excitement at her motherâs touch. âHey, baby bird, mommyâs going away for a few hours. Can you promise me youâll be a good girl for daddy?â Robin looked up at her mother with a pout, her small hand gripping onto Bobbiâs finger. âI love you, birdy. Iâll be home before you know it.â She kissed her forehead before looking up at Hunter, pressing her lips against his in a gentle kiss. âDonât die out there.â âDonât die back here.â Bobbi finally mustered up her courage to walk out of the house, at last leaving Hunter and Robin alone. His eyes shifted from the closed front door to the baby in his arms who looked up at him skeptically. âOi, donât look at me like your mummy does. Iâve got this. Now letâs go take a nap, shall we?â 2 hours later âRobin! Robin Isabelle Hunter Morse! Okay, yes- you just learned how to walk and itâs fun to run away from daddy but lunch.â Hunter had been chasing her around the house for a solid 10 minutes and the kid was just not giving up. Hunter on the other hand was on the very verge of it. Prior to the chasing there had been non-stop screaming and crying for her mother until she eventually fell asleep like a rock. He stopped in the middle of the living room and much to his luck, and annoyance, so did Robin. He raised an eyebrow and extended his arms towards her and the little sucker immediately ran to hug his legs. Picking her up with a playful shake of his head, he tapped the tip of her nose. âA little trickster, arenât you?â The little girl kicked with her legs and patted her father across the face. âIâm going to tell mummy all about this, donât you think otherwise.â He walked to the kitchen, placing Robin in her high chair before holding up two small jars in front of her. âDaddyâs spag bol or mummyâs mashed potatoes and carrots? Should be easy right?â Robin pointed at both and grinned proudly. âBah.â âIâm going to assume âbahâ means both.â He took the lids off and grabbed the plastic spoon from the table to scoop up some spaghetti. âOpen wide, sweetheart.â He opened his mouth in attempt to make his daughter do the same and sure enough she did. He put the spoon in her mouth and Robin simply let the food slide down and drip onto her white onesie. âRight, this is why you need a bib, isnât it. One second, princess, Iâll get it.â Barely even 30 seconds later, Hunter returned to what used to be a somewhat clean baby and a spotless floor. It was a war zone. Food everywhere. Including on his daughterâs head. His mouth hung open, staring at the mess. How could one so small cause such chaos? She couldnât even move from her chair. âBloody hell.â He scratched his head and figured out he shouldnât have expected anything else from his and Bobbiâs offspring. He should have seen this coming, really. He had no idea how Bobbi did it. She made everything look so easy. He groaned and kept looking about at the mess. Heâd deal with that later. The baby was a priority. The baby who was eating a mix of spag bol, mashed potatoes and carrots with her hands. Hunter groaned and ran his fingers through his short hair. âI guess itâs bath time before milk timeâŚâ He lifted her up, ending up just as dirty as his daughter. And so the screams and cries started again. A whole hour later, Robin was bathed, clean and changed. And so was Hunter. Turns out you definitely couldnât bathe a one year old without getting a bathe yourself, from said one year old. Now sitting in the rocking chair placed near the crib in the nursery, he sighed and cradled the baby in his arms. âLove, I know Iâm not as cool as mummy but this is really all I have to offer.â Robin looked at the bottle held up in front of her, completely unimpressed. âIt canât be that bad! I mean, I get it, nothing is better than mummyâs boobies, I agree- except maybe a few other things Iâm not going to mention, but please?â And lucky him, she did put teat in her mouth, scratching her ear tiredly as she drank the milk. Hunter grinned proudly to himself but soon found himself frowning as Robin finished off the bottle and the cries started once again. She rarely cried this much with Bobbi around and Hunter almost felt bad that Robin had to be alone with him. But he was her dad. And he knew she loved him, he just had to remind himself in these situations. He put the bottle aside and laid Robin against him, gently patting her back until she burped through her cries. He rocked her in his arms in hope of calming her but to no avail. Hunter sighed. He was the one who needed a nap now. âShh, love bug. Daddyâs here, no crying, sshh.â The tantrum continued. âAlright, let me tell you the story about how your mummy and I ended up back together since youâve already heard how we met. It started with your mummy being undercoverâŚâ * * * âLance! Robin! Iâm home!â Bobbi walked through the front door and raised an eyebrow at the lack of noise in the house. Most of the lights were off- not even the TV was playing. She felt worry creep up on her and she did a quick tour through the living room, only stopping in tracks as she saw the mess in the kitchen. âWhat the hell.â With panic raising up her throat, she rushed upstairs and was eventually greeted with a heart warming sight. Her husband sat sunken down in the rocking chair with the small baby laying on his chest, his arms protectively wrapped around her as both snored quietly. Bobbi bit down on her lower lip and smiled, walking over to them to press her lips against the side of Hunterâs head, gently shaking him awake. âHey, you. Fell asleep there did you?â âBobbi? Already back?â âShort mission. And I missed you two so I went home as soon as I could.â âBloody hell, if you only knew how much Iâve missed you.â She smiled and carefully took the baby from him, placing her in her crib, nothing but a small sleepy whimper escaping Robin before she went back to snoring again. Hunter stood up and wrapped his arms around her slender waist, placing a series of kisses along her neck. âWere you okay out there today?â Turning around in his grip, she nods and slides her arms around his neck. She pulls him in for a desperate kiss, her lips moulding in perfect sync with his for a long five minutes before she pulls away to look at him. âSo want to tell me about what happened to the kitchen?â âUh, about thatâŚâ
Bobbi Morse in 3x12

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simmorse + text posts, part III