#i need to finish my homework and stop stressing i fear

[apollos-boyfriend]

had a dream that the new ao3 policy changed the platonic symbol to fucking ⬭ instead of & and we manually had to go through each and every tag to change it. i woke up in a cold sweat and instantly checked the fucking wrangling patch notes out of fear 😭

[bat-mom-writer]

Not Just A Mother

Reader(wife) X Bruce Wayne(husband)

Summery: You married Bruce Wayne, not out of love, but because Bruce wanted a mother figure for his sons. But what happens when Bruce starts showing a more caring side?

Want a more angst and spicy arranged married come together? Check out Closet Confession.

(I do NOT own any DC characters)

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"Tim, did you finish your homework?" You called out, your footsteps echoing through the grand hallways of Wayne Manor as you made your way to your non biological son's room.

"I'll get it later," Tim's voice drifted back, a hint of procrastination in his tone.

"Not a chance, young man," you responded firmly, your heels clicking against the marble floor. "You know the rules. No gadgets or superhero shenanigans until your schoolwork is done. So get off the computer."

Tim sighed heavily, his eyes never leaving his computer. "Ten more minutes," he protested, his fingers typing away at lightning speed.

You signed but said nothing more upon stopping at the open door of Tim's room. You knew Bruce didn't appreciate you interference in nightly heroics, but you had your own way of managing the boys. Just as you was about to remind Tim of the consequences, a deep voice resonated from behind you.

"Listen to your mother, Tim."

You spun around to face Bruce, who had emerged from the shadows of the hallway. His gaze was stern but not unkind, the same look he often gave when you discussed the boys' schooling. You felt a small twinge of relief that he wasn't upset with your intervention.

Tim looked up from his computer, his eyes wide with surprise. He had never heard Bruce call you "mother" before. It was always Mrs. Wayne or by your name. The change in tone was subtle but significant, hinting at a shift in their relationship that none of them had anticipated.

Your cheeks flush under Bruce's eyes. "Thank you, Mr. Wayne," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. You noticed the warmth in his smile and the way he held your gaze for a beat too long. You felt a strange mix of comfort and discomfort, the kind that comes with the sudden realization that the ground beneath you is not as solid as it once seemed.

Bruce gave a curt nod before turning to leave. His footsteps grew quieter as he moved away, the sound of his retreating figure leaving an unsettling silence in its wake. Your mind raced, trying to piece together the puzzle of his behavior. Was it the stress of their sham marriage finally getting to him? Or perhaps a genuine affection that had been buried beneath layers of duty and obligation?

Over the next few days, Bruce continued to act more affectionate towards you, slipping in gentle touches and kind words where there had once been a stoic distance. You felt torn between acknowledging the change and fearing it was just a temporary shift in mood. After all, their marriage was built on a foundation of convenience, not love. You're there to provide a stable home life for his sons, not to be the object of his affection.

One evening, as Bruce sat in his study, you gathered your courage and approached him, clutching a set of documents in your hands. "I need to talk to you about something," you began, your voice tentative. "It's about a new deal that's been offered to the company."

Bruce looked up from his paperwork, his eyes reflecting the glow of the computer screens. "What is it?" he asked, his tone neutral.

"It's about a new acquisition," you said, looking down at the papers. "The board thinks it's a good opportunity."

Bruce took the papers from you, his hands brushing against yours for a moment longer than necessary. You felt a spark of electricity, and you quickly withdrew your hand, hoping he hadn't noticed. You watched as he skimmed through the pages, his brow furrowing slightly as he digested the information.

"What's your take on it?" he asked, his gaze still on the contract.

"I...I don't know if it's my...my place to say, Mr. Wayne" You stuttered, your heart racing. You had never been one to voice your opinions in matters like this.

Bruce's gaze lifted from the documents, his eyes locking with your. "Your opinion is important to me," he said firmly. "We're partners in this, remember?"

The words hung in the air, thick with an unspoken promise. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself. "Well," you began, your voice stronger now, "I think it's....sketchy. There's something about the terms that doesn't sit right with me."

Bruce's eyes never left yours as he listened intently. His thumb traced the edge of the paper, the only sign of his contemplation. "Then tell them I'm not interested," he said abruptly, handing the contract back to you.

Your eyes widened in shock. You had expected him to disagree, to argue the merits of the deal and the importance of the board's suggestions. Instead, he had deferred to your judgment, something he had never done before. "Are you sure?" you asked.

"Absolutely," Bruce said, his voice firm. "If it doesn't feel right, then it's not worth pursuing."

You took the contract, your hand trembling slightly. "But the board…" your trailed off, unsure how to voice your concerns without overstepping your boundaries.

Bruce leaned back in his chair, his eyes never leaving hers. "The board's job is to make suggestions," he said. "My job is to make decisions. And if my… wife," he emphasized the word, "thinks something's off, then I trust her judgment."

You felt a warmth spread through your chest at his words. It was the first time he had ever called you his wife without it sounding like a mere formality. You held the contract, your mind racing. "Thank you," you murmured. "I'll handle it."

Bruce nodded, his gaze lingering on yours. "You're welcome."

You retreated from the study, your thoughts in a whirlwind. The weight of the contract in your hands felt heavier than ever before. As you walked, the echoes of their conversation seemed to follow you, whispering of a newfound partnership and trust. You paused outside your study, taking a moment to collect yourself before returning to work. The manor felt different, as if the very air had shifted to accommodate a burgeoning emotion you hadn't anticipated.

Over the next few weeks, Bruce's affection grew more pronounced. He would join you for dinner, engaging in conversations that delved beyond the superficial. They discussed books, art, and the future of Gotham, sharing smiles and laughter that felt genuine and unforced. You found yourself looking forward to these moments, the tension in the air charged with something you dared not name.

One evening, after the boys had retired to their rooms, Bruce found you in the dimly lit Batcave, your eyes reflecting the glow of the monitors as you reviewed the night's intel. He approached you slowly, his footsteps muffled by the rubber soles of his boots. "I thought I was the night owl around here," he said with a teasing smile.

You startled, spinning around in the chair. "Mr. Wayne," you gasped, hand flying to your chest. "I didn't hear you come in."

Bruce chuckled, the sound echoing through the cavernous space. "It's Bruce," he corrected gently. "And I can see you've got everything under control."

Your cheeks colored as you nodded. "Just keeping an eye on things," you said, your voice quieter than usual. You felt self-conscious under his scrutiny, unsure how to react to his sudden interest in your nightly routine.

"Mind if I join you?" Bruce asked, his tone casual, yet it held a hint of something more.

You hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Of course," you said, your voice steady despite the racing of your heart. You watched as he made his way over to you, his movements fluid and silent. He leaned against the console, his eyes on the screens, but you knew he was really watching you.

"You know, this isn't where I expected to find you on our anniversary," he said, his voice low and warm.

Your breath caught in your throat. You had almost forgotten about the date, lost in the whirlwind of their new dynamic. Your swiveled the chair to face him, your heart pounding in your chest. "Anniversary?" you echoed, trying to keep your voice even.

Bruce nodded, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Yes, it's been a year since we made this… arrangement." He paused, searching for the right word, and you felt the weight of the unspoken truth hanging in the air.

"I… I had no idea at how quickly the year went by," you murmured, your eyes flicking to the floor before meeting his gaze again. "So much has happened."

"Yes, it has," Bruce agreed, his expression softening. "But I think we've made it work, don't you?"

You nodded slowly, your eyes moving to the side of the floor. "We have," you conceded. "For the boys."

"For the boys," Bruce echoed, but there was a hint of something more in his voice. He reached out and took your hand, his touch sending a jolt through you. "Dance with me."

You looked at him, bewildered. The Batcave was the last place you'd would have ever imagined sharing a dance with your husband, especially considering their relationship had been more of a business transaction than a romantic union.

"What?" you asked, your voice a mix of surprise and doubt. The cold metal and concrete walls of the Batcave didn't exactly scream romance.

But Bruce didn't seem to notice the oddness of his request. He held out his other hand, his eyes earnest. "Just one dance."

Your heart racing, placing your hand in his, allowing him to pull you to your feet. He led you to the center of the Batcave, the place where so much strategy and planning took place. But now, it was just them, standing in the shadow of the Dark Knight's armor, the only music the hum of the computers and the distant echo of the city above.

He pulled you closer, his hand on your back while the other held your other hand. You could feel the warmth of his body against yours, a stark contrast to the cool air of the underground lair. He was close enough that you could make out the scent of his cologne, the faint metallic scent of his suit mingling with it.

He leaned down and whispered in your ear, "Let's pretend, just for a moment, that we're not Mr. Wayne and Mrs. Wayne, but a couple who met under different circumstances."

Your pulse quickened. You knew the rules of your arrangement, knew that love had never been a part of the deal. Yet here you were, in the most unlikely of settings, with the potential for something you had never allowed yourself to imagine. Hesitating for only a moment, you stepped into the embrace, your body fitting against his as if it had always belonged there.

He began to sway gently, guiding you in a slow, rhythmic dance that seemed to defy the gravity of their situation. His hand rested on the small of your back, his other hand holding hers firmly, yet gently. You felt the muscles beneath the fabric of his suit, the strength and power of the man you had only ever known as your husband in name.

The sound of his deep, rich hum filled the cavernous space, a tune you didn't recognize but found oddly soothing. It was a moment of vulnerability you had never seen from him before, a side of Bruce Wayne that was as unguarded as the batcave was protected. As they danced, your head leaned into his chest, the steady beat of his heart echoing in your ears, mimicking the tempo of your own.

The tension between them grew palpable, a silent crescendo that seemed to vibrate in every atom of the room. You felt yout resolve wavering, the walls you had meticulously built to maintain the façade of your marriage threatening to crumble. You knew the truth – that you had developed feelings for him, feelings that had grown from a seed of respect and duty into a full-blown bouquet of love and longing.

"Bruce," you murmured, your voice shaky. "What are we doing?"

He leaned down, his breath warm against your ear. "I'm just… trying to be a better husband to you."

The admission sent a tremor through you, and you pulled away slightly to look up at him. His eyes searched yours, a question and a plea melded into one. Your chest tightened as you read the hope and uncertainty in his gaze.

"Why?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. "What changed?"

Bruce's expression grew serious, his eyes holding yours captive. "I've realized that life is too short to ignore what's right in front of us," he replied, his thumb brushing gently against the back of your hand. "I've watched you care for my sons, for this city, and for me. You've become more than just a part of this arrangement. You've become a part…of me."

The words hung in the air, a confession that resonated through the very foundation of the Batcave. You searched his eyes, looking for any sign of doubt, any hint that he was just playing a part. But what you found was a vulnerability you had never seen before, a crack in the armor of the man who was both Bruce Wayne and Batman. You were speechless, your heart pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it.

Leaning closer, his cheek brushed against yours, sending a shiver down your spine. His mouth hovered near your ear, the heat of his breath sending a rush of emotion through yours. "Please," he whispered, "give me a chance."

Your heart was a tumult of emotions – hope, fear, confusion. But you knew that you couldn't ignore the feelings that had been growing within you for so long. You nodded, the barest of movements, but it was enough.

Bruce's hand slid to your cheek, cupping it gently as he leaned in and kissed you. It was a soft kiss, filled with a year's worth of unspoken emotions. You melted into it, your arms slipping around his neck as you gave in to the warmth that had been building between them. The kiss grew deeper, more urgent, and you could feel the tension in his body, the years of holding back finally released.

You broke apart, breathing in quite pants, your eyes locked. Your heart raced, your mind reeling with the implications of what was happening. "Bruce," you whispered, your voice trembling.

"My wife," Bruce said, the words sounding unfamiliar, yet right. He searched your face, his thumb stroking your cheek gently. "You are my wife. I want to act like the husband I know you truly deserve."

"What about the boys?" You asked, your voice a soft murmur.

"They're our priority," Bruce assured you, his hand sliding from your cheek to your hand again. "We just now have… some extra perks to our partnership." He offered you a tentative smile, and you couldn't help but return it, feeling the weight of your situation lighten just a little.

For a moment, you two just stood there, holding onto each other, the reality of your feelings finally out in the open. The silence was comfortable, filled with the steady rhythm of your breaths mingling together.

[silliestintheworld]

should I finish this or scrap it/gen

Ganke paced back and forth, the dim glow of the streetlights filtering through the curtains. His mind raced with worry as he glanced at his ridiculously bright computer screen. It was well past 1 in the morning, and Miles still hadn't returned.

Ganke had spent the last couple of hours working on both his and Miles's homework, trying to distract himself from the gnawing worry in his chest. He had even managed to complete an entire essay in that time, fueled by stress and the desperate need for something to do besides worry. But it wasn't working. Not when Miles was out there, somewhere, and he had no idea why he hadn't come back yet.

He was giving himself a headache.

"No but seriously, where is he?" Ganke muttered to himself, his voice tinged with concern. He knew Miles had a habit of falling asleep on patrol, but it was 12 degrees outside.

Ganke shivered at the mere thought. "He's gonna freeze his ass off, and then I'll have to explain to everyone why my best friend died from hypothermia!"

Why couldn't New York be warmer!?

Great, now he was talking to himself. Might as well change your name to Miles while we’re at it.

He considered calling Miles's parents, but dismissed the idea almost immediately. If they knew Miles wasn’t with him, they would likely be even more worried. It wouldn't help anyone if they all panicked.

His phone remained silent, devoid of any response from Miles. That was very unlike him. Ganke knew Miles hated seeing him worry, and he always made an effort to keep him up, especially when he knew he would be out late. The fact that he wasn't answering a single text only added to the unease in Ganke's heart.

He was supposed to be the calm one.

A thousand scenarios played out in Ganke's mind. What if something had happened? What if Miles was hurt, trapped somewhere, alone in some stranger's basement? The thought was ridiculous, he knew, but in moments like these, the worst-case scenarios seemed all too possible.

"He's fine, stop stressing yourself out," Ganke told himself, trying to project calmness into the air. But his own voice wavered with uncertainty. He wanted to believe his words, to have faith in Miles's abilities, but the fear gnawed at him relentlessly.

"He'll be fine. He'll come back," he mumbled to no one in particular.

"He always comes back." But deep down, he couldn't shake the feeling of dread that settled in his chest.

[bad-advice-its-very-bad]

first of: i’m a us-american in the public school system. it may be the ocd but i physically cannot procrastinate. i get home every day without any homework bc i get it done at school. seems great? no. i am very stressed. i would put it off but my brain goes “do that Or Else” and i do it. idk if it’s compulsive thoughts or maybe a persecutor doing their job but either way it’s not good.

hum, that does sound stressful as hell.

if it’s a compulsion, I understand that but if you can’t stop yourself from finishing the work quickly I suggest you find ways to destress yourself quickly or things that give comfort in a healthy way.

I’ve found putting on videos or tv shows or podcasts help, because when I get stressed I can’t sleep well at ALL so I understand the buzz of “you have to do something now” and the fear of what will happen if I don’t do it?

while my ways probably won’t work for you, doing things that take your mind off of the things that stress you out can help.

if it’s a persecutor alter you might need to communicate that the stress to grind out and do all the work immediately is having a big impact on the rest of you guys.

Maybe if it’s a persecutor alter, then you might have to come up with a compromise or a deal. When me and Lena used to fight and stuff, it sucked half because we had just discovered each other and half because she has TOO clean when we feel like we’ve messed up.

it’s a whole thing, but I understand how you feel.

basically our system took on some of the work load slowly but surely and it got better, so maybe the reason the persecutor feels the need to do so well and finish so fast is the negative outcome that will happen if they don’t. While I didn’t get the short end of the stick when it came to the verbal abuse and emotional abuse that related to us preforming a good job at cleaning Lena did. And it’s the whole reason she exists is to do a good job at cleaning under pressure and under stress. Because the alternative was being yelled at and screamed at and told demeaning things because it wasn’t done well.

we were like 7 lol. So maybe the persecutor doesn’t actually want to hurt your system they just fear the outcome that will happen if they don’t do the work immediately and amazingly. Which is a very understandable fear especially if it’s the reason they exist.

so they might just need to be shown that they can trust you not to get hurt and they might let up on the stress. But that’s just based off of my experiences, everyone is different and needs different things.

but that’s all I have, I hope it was enough?

[stardust-in-my-mind-blog]

hello grip stress my old friend

one gnarly thing about deciding to solve problems

after the new year is that once that new year hits

you are suddenly overcome with so much stress

that your mind will do nothing but list off all the problems

you now have to solve and can't you fucking do it

all together and exactly at the same time

and aren't you the worst creature to live on this planet

if you can't immediately get all the shit you were

putting off together all in the span of a day and also

here is every single mistake you've ever made and also

by the way just know that everything you've been doing

up until this point was garbage and you're the worst

it's nice having a quick mind on the best of times

but man can it switch on me just as quickly

it's best when we are friends but when we are not

my mind makes a formidable mortal enemy

yesterday the only way to turn it off was to sleep

and so I did that the entire day because no matter

what I did all my thoughts were just negative and mean

I suppose that's what having a mental health day is

because my mental was absolutely not healthy

I did end up getting my lost phone back

and though I woke up with my mind telling me

pretty much the same negative assumptions today

I thought about how I spent the last year

I didn't climb corporate ladders or rake in the cash

but I did learn how to sing on stage

and I did end the year exactly how my heart desired

so if I was a failure as my mind wished me to believe

seems like I'd have to ask through whose eyes?

because according to my heart

I've done nothing but make a few impossible dreams

into a reality where I got to experience a type of bliss

that I thought I was just writing about

nonetheless I have a house to move out of

and I do need to figure out some basic logistics

and today that will be spent finishing up

with the packing of my room and then packing up

the rooms of the kids and letting myself

see that as organizing the chaos of my mind today

because when I opened my eyes this morning

I woke up to only fear and panic and so much

needless angst that won't be helping anybody

obviously something within me is in a deep need

for gentleness and compassion because when I

take a look at the back of my mind there is something

running around in circles screaming and it's actually

quiet difficult to get anything done with that happening

in terms of thinking so today I will take a small step

in a direction that no matter what has to be done

last night I dreamed about all the different colleges

I attended and I was running around through all of

them and there happened to be six in my undergraduate

and the attempt at graduate school so I was actually

quite busy going to all of them in one night

I'm glad it was not elementary or middle school

which it usually is but it did follow the same themes

I had homework to turn in that I forgot

or I was going through the nightmare of scheduling

or even worse I was trying to get started

all of these tasks involve a state of organization

that I'm not always able to get at so it was super fun

to wake up to a different state of chaos

but in this chaos everything can be fixed

there is not a problem that I have that I can't do

something with as long as I don't listen to the screaming

my goodness I wish that creature would stop screaming

but I suppose everyone deserves a minute or two to express

themselves and at some point we will need to get them

off the stage even if they aren't done with their message

let's hope a shower helps

[ari-the-rockstar]

I am still heavily confused on whether I have OSDD or not, and I feel like I am one of those people in the "fake disorder compilations." I feel as if something definitely happened in my childhood but I am making up these symptoms even though I experience them on a daily basis. It's so infuriating not being able to trust myself while living through this hell.

I remember being 8 and getting slapped every time I messed up math equations and belittled over how stupid I was. Getting hit for giving my mom an angry look after she made me do much more homework than my peers, hit for not finishing food.

I was force fed meals until about a year ago (they just used "you eat or no internet"), 3 meals a day + snacks + this disgusting brown herb concoction. Supplements I didn't need were also added. My mom would physically shove food down my throat, if I resisted further she would scream and hold my hands aggressively and pinch my nose closed so I couldn't breathe (so I had to open my mouth). She would say "eat or no internet" and I'd say okay no internet but then I was forced to eat the food while crying and having my laptop thrown in the back of a car (?? so odd, the car thing).

My dad would regularly abuse our dogs by hitting, punching, kicking, etc. He would kick them in the face till they bled, choking them with their leashes, even dragging them by the collar and choking them. He would kick them in broad daylight outside and encouraged me to do the same (which I did). Though when I was really young I remember getting so scared when he'd abuse the dogs, thinking I would be next. It turned into him being really oddly kind to our second dog, so much that he'd say he loved the dog more than me and saying that I was just kinda "eh." I ended up abusing dogs physically too, though never to his extent, but I'm still torn up over it and feel guilty (guilt is never something he experiences I think).

Mom invalidated me for wanting to commit suicide when I was 8, shaming me; saying I had such a good life? How could I be suicidal or depressed? I just needed to "pray to god" and everything would be fine. Religion is above her own child; she'd rather listen to a fucking voice than her own child. She then took me out of my school and placed me in one where I was getting bullied everyday. Fun /s

When I was four years old, I distinctly remember that I was watching these videos on the internet. My mom knew, and she said that it was okay. I continued to watch them. However, one day she sat me down and started beating the shit out of me for watching them. I remember getting slapped over and over and begging her to stop and apologizing while she still kept beating and beating me.

This happened quite a lot before kindergarten, getting beaten for these little things like spilling paint. Every time I would beg her to stop and she would keep slapping and hitting me; when I cried more she would beat me more and I would tell her that if she hits me I will cry. She would tell me that "people will take you away from me if they know that I 'spank' you," when 'spanking' was actually slapping and I can remember the sound of my ears ringing from it.

I was very sick when I was 8 and 9 due to constant stress and fear of her and going to a new school. I was very socially ostracized and people bullied me a lot; when I tried to tell my parents they would always tell me that things were not that bad and blamed me for not being strong enough to deal with it. They told me to stand up for myself but whenever I tried to protest against their abuse they would hit me or take away something very important to me instead.

When I was sick at 8, my mom would hit me and blame me for being sick. I was being forcefed when I was incredibly nauseous in the mornings and would puke from both the stress of being forcefed and the nausea itself. She would yell at me and shame me. I would beg her to stop feeding me because I was going to vomit soon but she would keep forcing me to eat and then blame me for vomiting. I was banned from eating anything which was not organic or gluten free, which meant that I was never allowed to eat things like Oreos or even Hershey's until I was older. I would sneak these foods in copious amounts at school and she would shame me and call me fat for it, telling me about how much weight I would gain even when I was at a normal weight.

I got an allergic reaction when I was 9 and she always yelled at me and made me cry, blaming me even more for eating. She would tell me to go and look at how terrible my face looked with all the rashes, and whenever I expressed that I felt ugly she would scream at me and call me crazy. My dad would constantly make fun of my teeth and always made me feel so ugly, I would cry and he would keep laughing and call me sensitive for not being able to take a joke. This along with the bullying made me hate myself so much, I had such bad body dysmorphia.

At 11 I was not allowed to play outside with my only friends because of the sun; I am brown and they told me that my skin would become darker so I had to stay inside. They would come up next to me and say how ugly my skin was and how I had "dark spots" (nothing but literal shadows from my bone structure).

When I was in fifth grade, I was sent to a conservative christian anti vax pro life homophobic transphobic etc school. My parents are very everything-phobic btw, my dad said that trans people are crazy sho*ters hopped up on all those hormones. Mom said that gay people are sodomites who will face judgement and are disgusting human beings. I was in this school for four years and forced to hide everything about myself (lesbian atheist), having "safe" conversations and trying my hardest to pretend I was straight and Christian. I have to hide now too, but the other kids/teachers don't give a shit about me and frankly it's better this way (different school).

My old school was incredibly oppressive and indoctrinating. If you did not comply to them you would face social ostracization and the leaders of it would call your parents for anything. A girl there who I trusted told the teacher that I cut myself and the teachers called my abusive parents and I had a panic attack and was terrified for my life. She never apologized. It was so dehumanizing and terrible to have to CONSTNATLY hide everything about myself for years because of the fact that I would endure such terrible abuse at home if someone knew. There were less than 50 students ages 10 to 18 there. They told me I would go to hell if I hurt myself. That I was disgusting and abhorrent and immoral and that god hated me for being a lesbian. I was forced to complete assignment after assignment saying that that school was the only good people, and that everyone else fell short in the eyes of god and would go to hell. I developed severe moral OCD from this and would pray hundreds of prayers every single day to beg god not to take me to hell. It was literally hell on earth.

My parents are very anti vax (been nearly a decade since my last vaccine) and anti-science. They say that the moon landing is faked, JFK jr is still alive, Michael Jackson is still alive, etc. They say that everyone else is brainwashed and that we are the only truly good ones. If I ever say something that doesn't support them, they immediately think that I am talking to someone else online and look through everything of mine. If they find nothing, they attack me personally (verbally).

My dad has told me to kill myself and to just cut myself too. He's said that he wanted to leave my mom but she was pregnant with ME so he had to stay (he said this bit when i was 9). That I am the "glue" which holds their relationship together (and he'd be happier w another woman without me). That nobody would show up to my funeral besides him and my mom if I died. Mom's said that none of my friends will care about me if I die after 1-2 years. That people online will traffick me and turn me gay and trans and kidnap me and do all sorts of horrid things to me if I talk to them even once.

When they found out (January 2023) I'd had an online bsf they screamed at me for hours. They told me I was a disgusting perverted brainwashed cult member and read the smut I'd been reading. It's not funny, it was painful to hear that the very private, quiet parts of my life were not only being exposed to them but being openly fucking blasted to bits. They called my bsf (the only person who made my life even slightly bearable) a groomer and that I was so stupid to talk to them, so stupid to let them deceive me. They blamed me for all of this (but dad said that I had no reason to sh since I hadn't been SA'd a year prior).

I was hospitalized in February 2023 because I called the police trying to get away from them and said I'd kill myself if I had to live in that house any longer. Since then, the government has deemed me unfit to resume schooling there and I've had to move across the planet to attend school. It's been extremely stressful on my mental health, all of it. And dad changing from kind to mean to kind to mean etc (what he's been doing my whole life) just makes it so much worse.

Recently in December 2023 I became friends with someone who was extremely emotionally abusive. He would alternate (just like my father) from being kind and loving to angry and cruel, and would say that if I left him he would commit suicide. He would hold razors up to his neck over video call and would force me to beg him not to die. He would overdose in front of me and guzzle vodka in order to scare me. I stopped being friends with him after a month but my brain is still incredibly rattled from that.

It hurts knowing that my mom will never love me unless I fake my entire personality and personhood.

It hurts knowing that my dad will never love me at all.

Throughout my life, I have tried to commit suicide over 15 times (something which my dad made fun of me for and even shamed me at times).

The point of all this is that I have realized that when I am extremely triggered I feel like there is another "me" or person coming behind me in my brain, and it takes a lot of work to not let them...take over, I guess. If I do let them take over it often results in a lot of terrible things happening because they are incredibly emotional and hold a lot of pain and anger. Even now, after recounting all of this trauma, I am getting a headache and I feel like they are right here, stuck behind a wall of sorts. And sometimes they will just...randomly come out and I will have to force them to go away, to be and feel normal again, but it's painful and difficult to but having them out just feels so vulnerable and shitty. Someone else always has to be with them when she's there; it's always another voice in my head who is another entirely different person talking to the first one. When I am watching media from that time period from 4-12, I will feel like they are coming up. I even have a drawing that they/I made and it is stereotypically childish; I never draw like that ever.

I can remember them being there since maybe mid 2023, when I was slowly recovering from a severe eating disorder. I still live with my parents and 2023 was such an incredibly abusive year; so much hell happened to me I feel like my brain snapped in half and now I am just this dissociated depressed person who occasionally gets panic attacks. Recounting all of this is extremely stressful and difficult for me, I am shaking as I write this, but I feel like I need answers NOW and it can't wait a single second longer. I read about OSDD a few months back and it kind of feels similar to all of this. I just don't know, I experience a lot of what they call "passive influence" and "non possessive switching," and I have this deep internal dread and sense of wrong within myself, like I am not "me" there is someone else inside. I get a lot of feelings that do not feel like "mine." Does this make sense? I'm not sure. I feel a lot of depersonalization and derealization so it is very difficult to try and sort these things out.

[wakkoroni]

Thank you so much for the tag! These fics sound so good and I can't wait to have like a bunch of tags open with each of them.

Ah yes, wips, I have an endless amount of these. These will soon be posted, but how soon is out of my hands. That's a future me question. I'm a slow writer shh Hope you feel better Quo!

Damian's Bad Day (title might be changed) | Who knows?

Damian didn't have the energy to deal with his family this morning. Which says a lot because his family has a lot of energy, and he can tolerate them on good days. Today didn't start out as a good day. He stayed up late last night to finish some homework since he was benched until he brought his grades back up. He isn’t a bad student, quite the contrary, but this class is beating his ass. Essays due every 5 seconds with only a day to complete them, it’s stressful. Last night while they were all on patrol, he was sitting on the ground tearing his hair out. He stopped after considering the fact that Father would be mad if he caught him with bald spots and he settled with tearing old notes into little pieces. He noted the mess on top of his neatly placed sources for easy access to write his essay but didn't find the energy to care.

Renegade | As soon as the inspiration hits

Is Dick Grayson dead? Legally yes, he’s been presumed dead for God knows how long. In reality, he never really died. He’s perfectly healthy and well.

Is Robin dead? Oh yeah for sure. Even if he managed to get away from this cursed place, he’s definitely not going back to Robin. It hurt to admit that, giving up his family’s name. But after this, he is no longer the carefree child he used to be. He can’t be Gotham’s symbol of hope and the light to Batman’s shadow. Not after everything he’s done.

Tim's first attempt Day 17 | Soon hopefully

Tim has been stuck in this cursed fucking warehouse for weeks now. He’s been growing insane, and he hopes it’s because of the ‘being kidnapped’ situation and not the ‘being a guinea pig for Scarecrow’ situation. He really doesn’t want to know the side effects of all the fear toxins he tested. He doesn’t know how his parents would react if he comes home and finds out their son is now insane. Maybe they wouldn’t notice. But that’s not the point.

The point is that Tim wants out. It’s hard to get out, he’s monitored at all times. Scarecrow hired goons to keep track of him when he is busy creating new toxins. Plus he’s still using the diffusor, which sucks. Because he just feels like lead the entire time. The goons laugh at him, mocking him. Tim hated it so much, wanted to move and make them shut up, but he couldn’t DO ANYTHING.

Living to Please (also might be changed) | If I can write out the ending, it might be very soon

When Damian arrived in America, it was a culture shock to say the least. He was 10 at the time and although he was fluent in many languages, he struggled. He can forget words or not know the grammar rules. This would cause his English to sound choppy or as his classmates love to point out “out of a textbook”. Overtime, he found no need to communicate in his mother tongue, which upset him. Sure, he would use certain phrases to address other family members, but he never really had to use full sentences. Everyone expected him to speak English, and because Damian lives to please others, he spoke English. His father would sometimes spend time with him before patrol to expand his knowledge in English. He didn’t think that his accent bothered the people around him, but he knew it made him harder to understand.

There were times throughout his day where he would wish that he would lose his accent. He hated the remarks given to him at galas, or the side-eyes from other Gotham citizens. It bothered him. Sure it was something small and other people could look past it, but he was seen as different. He wasn’t different, he’s human despite what many may think. He grew up used to being seen as royalty, everyone obeyed him and gave him the proper respect. Though when his mom abandoned him in Gotham, everything changed. House rules changed, even his diet changed to more American food. He could always ask Alfred to make dishes from home, and he would, but they never taste the same. He missed his way of life.

These are all unedited, so y'all get the raw story. Don't worry. When they get posted, it'll be cleaned up and, hopefully, make sense. I have Grammarly downloaded and it really knows how to call me out

I really don't know who to tag so if y'all see this and you want to join in on the fun, go ahead and join us. That'll be my tag: to whoever wishes to join. :D

WIP Snippet Share Thanks @charmsandtealeaves for the tag! Snippets from a few WIPs coming up: All's Well That Ends Well Chapter 6 | Publishing hopefully next week.

From that day on, Lily was never unaccompanied. Even to the bathroom, “In case he ambushes you in the loo!” as Mary put it. With the combined vigil of Mary, Alice, Emmeline and Marlene, five communication attempts were successfully—venomously—quashed in the span of three days.

Expectation's Encumbrance Chapter 2 | This one is long overdue. Will hopefully be publishing this month.

“According to Miss Harriet, an unexpected guest arrived from Town yesterday. A friend of your Mr Lupin. And Mrs Lupin thought it prudent to increase the size of the party, as apparently he is used to grander gatherings than we.”

Between the Desire and the Spasm Chapter 1 | May?

Sirius barked another laugh, and Remus yelled, “Enjoy the train ride, mate!” Then James was looking at his own face again. “Assholes,” James had grumbled to himself as he shoved the mirror in his jacket pocket and began the walk to the train station.

After All This Time Chapter 1 | This month.

"The Ministry has found another Death Eater." "Yeah?" George nodded, mouth full of baked beans, and poked the newspaper laying open on the table. "Thorfinn Rowle." George had devoted himself to knowing everything there was to know about the capture of the Death Eaters that escaped after the battle at Hogwarts. He was especially interested in news of Augustus Rookwood, who had proved adept at evading the Auror department.

Tagging: @merlinsbbeard @liiilyevans @quotidian-oblivion @kay-elle-cee @ohmygodshesinsane (sorry if you've already done this)

[djljpanda]

Hello! I absolutely love your writing style it’s just so *chefs kiss*

I was wondering if I could possibly request something? (No worries if you don’t want to do it) but it’s something like the reader was sleeping/focused on something and Wednesday comes up and taps their shoulder to get their attention.

The reader gets scared and has a ptsd flashback (preferably of family abuse if that alright with you) and either just starts freaking out saying stuff like “don’t hurt me” or they get aggressive like a flight or fight response.

Thank You For The Compliment. I Hope I Did Well.

Tw/ Angst. Family abuse. Mention of starvation.

💜

School was getting to you, staying up late for homework and assignments, doing side work for your club, so yes you were tired. You just hated the feeling of being tired, you did sleep but you were never comfortable. And add that on with stress and your fear, you couldn't sleep.

You were in the Library researching for your homework. Just with reading your eyes started to close as your head fell a bit down as your body was relaxed.

Till you felt a tap at your shoulder you eyes shot up, heart racing, blood pumping, as you turned around screaming. "I'm sorry please it won't happen again. Don't hit me", but when you nothing came you notice your girlfriend.

"Y/n are you alright" "Oh um no nothing is wrong" "Y/n you just screamed and not in the good way" "Wednesday please can we just talk about something else" "Alright but Y/n I'm here if you need anything".

Before now Wednesday notice your tired self as today she tried looking for you only to see you slumped over. She only went over to see if you were okay. But your sudden outburst she grew more worried but she didn't want to push you.

When night time rolled around you and Wednesday were in your dorm finishing homework. It started get late and Wednesday can your eyes watering because of your sleepiness. "Y/n why don't we just stop here and get some sleep" "Oh well you can love Imma still finish up here" "Y/n you are worrying me". "How?" "Well by the looks of it you arent sleeping and what just happened in the Library" "Wednesday its nothing" "Y/n something is bugging you. Please just talk to me", you looked at her only to look down again. "Im scared of sleeping cause if I do they will hit me again" "Who is they if its okay for me to ask" "My parents. Being the black sheep in the family means you must be the golden child. No sleep till your done, no food till your finished, and to be locked in your room if you got any bad grades".

Without hesitation Wednesday hugged you as real tears started to come down. "I promise they will never touche you again" "Th-thank you", you said hugging her back.

That night Wednesday stood up till you were fast asleep. Next day Wednesday had gotten you a stuff animal to help you sleep. "If you ever feel scared and im not there just hug them and you will feel safe" "Thank you love for listening and helping me out" "Well Amour you can always count on me".

[underoos-shield]

tom holland x reader where she's really tired and stressed from uni and comes home and has an anxiety attack and cries so tom comforts her and pampers her until she eventually falls asleep sitting in his lap and her head tucked in the crook of his neck and lots of fluff and forehead kisses

y/n has had quite possibly the worst, most stressful week of her life. homework, projects, exams, presentations… it’s too much for her to handle at one time. she has barely had time to eat the last few days due to her overwhelming amount of assignments. her brain is fried, she’s desperate for a break. she can’t remember the last time she ate a nice meal and actually felt full. or taking time to wash her hair. it seems like the last few weeks have been work, work, work.

“maybe you should take a break, darling”. It’s past eight p.m. when tom comes into the room. he sees y/n hunched over at her desk frantically typing notes and scribbling calculations. he sighs, knowing she hasn’t stopped to eat or to hydrate herself. she groans out of frustration proving that she needs a well-deserved break.

the room is quiet for a while. the only noises that can be heard are her fingers lightly tapping at the keyboard. “darling”. tom walks over to her, now standing next to her. from here he can see the dark circles under her eyes, her uncomfortably hunched back, her dry lips.

she shakes her head, only now acknowledging his presence. “i can’t”, is all she says, not stopping her typing. tom sighs. he hates how stressed she has been lately and he hates even more how useless he feels that he can’t help her. tom’s eyes scan the dozens of sprawled out papers of formulas she has written over the last few hours. he notices how each piece of paper seems to become sloppier, a sign that her hand got tired, fast. y/n proves it by wincing as she rubs the muscle under her thumb. it’s swollen and red and tom frowns as he reaches for her hands.

“you need a break, come”, he says softly. y/n frantically shakes her head, still looking at her computer.

she protests at his requests. “no, i can’t stop. i need to finish”, her voice only comes out as a whisper. she tries to free her hands from his grasp but he tightens his hold. this makes her snap her eyes to him. not out of anger, out of fear. she’s scared she’s not going to finish her assignments on time. she’s scared that if she allows herself to rest she’ll have more work to do tomorrow. “no, no, no”. y/n is begging, pleading now. it hurts tom to see her like this, which is why his hold on her doesn’t let up.

“you need to eat, please”. tom’s voice is soft compared to hers. y/n’s voice is cracking as the anxiety builds up inside of her. she crying. tears are running down her face as she gasps to catch her breath. her hands are shaking and she starts to sweat, telltale signs that her anxiety is getting the best of her. “c’mere”, he says softly. tom softly wraps his arms around her waist as she cries into him. as much as it hurt to cry, it felt good to feel something, she has been on autopilot the past few weeks.

“tom”, she squeaks out between cries. her arms wrap around his shoulders as she’s picked up and brought over to the bed. tom sits with his back against the headboard, her straddling him as she continues to cry.

“my sweet girl”, he coos. tom hates to see his love this way. one hand strokes her hair, while the other softly rubs her back, a motion that brings her comfort. “you’ve been working so hard, my darling. you need to prioritize your rest”. he’s right, she knows he is. she has been letting her work get the best of her, lately. it’s just so much easier said than done. she tries to explain herself to him, but it comes out broken between her whimpering. “it’s okay, love. i’m not mad. i just don’t like seeing you so worked up”. her cries have died down and are only soft gasps as she regains control of herself. “let me take care of you tonight, please?”. his lips softly press against her temple, forehead, eyelids… anywhere he could reach. y/n nods and wipes her eyes softly.

he smiles softly before going to run y/n a bath. tom sits on the edge of the tub and helps wash her hair and scrub the tricky spots she can’t reach. he even helps detangle her hair and puts them into two braids. they weren’t the best looking, but it looked a lot better than what she had done with it recently.

tom gives her a shirt and pair of boxers to sleep in before heating up some leftovers for her to enjoy. she’s quiet as she gratefully chews the meat and potatoes dish. as she eats, tom saves her documents and softly closes her laptop. she had done enough work tonight. her loose papers are neatly stacked on top of the desk and y/n smiles at him sleepily at her caring boyfriend. she doesn’t have enough energy to speak, so she just watches as he picks up the broken pieces of her.

“all done?”, he asks. tom places the empty dish on the bedside table and brings his sleepy girl into his lap. the pair stay in silence for a while, just syncing up their breathing and appreciating each other. tom’s hand rubbing her back makes her eyelids heavy and she’s rests her head into him. tom let’s out a small sigh in relief, happy that he could finally help her. “is my girl feeling better?”, he softly asks. y/n smiles in the crook of his neck and weakly nods.

“thank you tommy”, she says quietly.

[aricazorel]

From my Mass Effect project featuring Kaidan Alenko and Kori Reese (my OC). I intend to write about their relationship all the way through the trilogy but this takes place during ME1 before the Noveria mission.

~ ~ ~

It made no sense. She was impulsive. She was a smart ass. She bypassed the chain of command when she thought she was right. Which was quite often on both counts. She’d rather work alone than with a team. She was unapologetic about being forceful with her opinion. Everything that would normally drive him crazy. Everything that he would avoid.

But with her, he didn’t. Instead Kaidan Alenko was drawn to it, to her.

Lt. Kora Reese was a chaotic ball of energy that he didn’t necessarily want to tame so much as understand. Why did she insist on pushing most people away and doing things her way? Why did she not fear the consequences of her actions? Why had he been the one to get through the initial barriers she’d set up? Why had he tried?

Kaidan shook his head. Trying to figure out anything associated with Reese often resulted in a headache. He had enough of those with his implant. He didn’t need anymore because of a woman. But not just any woman. Reese was special and had been for quite awhile. He had only recently admitted that to himself after he began coaching her with her biotics. A working relationship had turned to friendship which had turned to flirting and possibly to something else. What that was he wasn’t quite sure but he knew he didn’t want it to stop.

“Are you okay there, Alenko?” The object of his thoughts called.

He glanced over at the panel that they had taken apart in one of the maintenance service crawled ways. Reese was laying on her back staring at him from where she had shimmied her way out. Her grey eyes looked at him with a cross between concern and amusement. Apparently she had said something to him and he’d missed it.

“Ah, yeah, Reese. Just thinking,” he admitted slowly. “What did you need?”

“I wanted your opinion on rerouting this. I know Shepard doesn’t like me changing things without approval,” she replied.

“What is it?”

“Just the air recycling system. It would make it more efficient,” she explained. “We ran simulations during development that suggested this configuration would work better but time didn’t allow for any tests. But the stress the Normandy has endured so far indicates it will work.”

“You’ve run sims?”

“Well, yeah. Tali helped too and seems to think it will work,” Reese noted with a little bit of trepidation.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“You don’t get nervous around me for nothing, Reese. So what is it?”

“I just really want your opinion that’s all.”

Kaidan knew he was looking at her like she had grown a second head. He couldn’t help it. She was asking for his unsolicited opinion on a project she clearly had done her homework on. She’d even gotten a second opinion already from their resident quatrain. Why did she need his? Maybe she didn’t. She’d said want not need.

She watched as she began to retreat back into the paneling, mumbling as she went, “Never mind. I’ll ask Shepard if it’s okay in the morning. It’s getting late—“

Before she could disappear fully he gently laid a hand on her knee. “Hey! Where are you going?”

“To put this panel back together,” she stated as if it were obvious, avoiding the disappointment he knew she was feeling.

“Why don’t you scoot over instead?” He replied squeezing her knee lightly. “I can’t help make the switch if you are sprawled out across the whole thing, now can I?”

She peered out at him from the tunnel as he leaned forward to her level, almost hovering over her. “You want to do this?”

“You know the ship. You helped design it. You’ve done you’re due diligence. I don’t have a reason not to trust that do I?”

“I—I don’t think so… But Shepard—“

“Will be told about it during the morning briefing,” Kaidan finished for her as he worked his way into the tunnel beside her.

She nodded as they began working. Laying on their backs working on the over head wiring and circuitry, they worked in tandem. It had become second nature for Kaidan to work alongside Reese. It had also become a favorite part of his duties when they allowed him to work with her. Especially one on one as they did now. No one to interrupt them, just the work and them.

“What were you thinking about earlier?” Reese asked not taking her eyes off her task. She often talked to him about random things as they worked; it was how they had gotten to know each other so well initially. Apparently because he actually listened and while having opinions of his own, he was never pushy about it.

He grinned. Would she punch him for his answer? He’d take the chance. “You.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, just trying to figure out all the chaotic energy you have sometimes and why you put up with me,” he clarified as he reached for a tool.

His gaze caught hers as he noticed the slightest tinge of pink to her cheeks. “You don’t know?”

Her voice was just above a whisper. Know what? Had he missed something? Of course he had missed something, he thought in frustration. “Know what, Reese? What did I miss?”

She lowered her grey eyes. “Never mind.”

He sat down his tool and reached over to her, lifting her chin up with a hooked finger. “Don’t do that. Don’t hide what you want me to know.”

She took a breath. “I trust you and I haven’t trusted anyone in a long time.”

It was Kaidan’s turn to blush. All their conversations weren’t meaningless. He was happy. Happier than he’d been in a long time at hearing her words. With a dopey grin he replied in a hushed voice, “I trust you too.”

She smiled broadly at him for a moment and then punched him playfully in the shoulder. “Can we get back to work now?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Alenko replied, both of them still wearing their dopey grins. Happiness came in all sorts of ways to a person. To him right now it was knowing that the woman next to him cursing at a circuit board trusted him. For now that was enough.

[slowly-writing]

Bullying

Natasha Romanoff x Teen!Reader

Word count: 2K

Requested by anon: Can you do an imagine where natashas daughter is being bullied and she finds out?

You have your hands shoved in your pockets, pulling your jacket down and allowing the hood to fall more into your face, blocking you from the harsh stares of your classmates. You should’ve expected your life to turn out like this. You knew what high school was like. Fitting in was the main priority and the mob of insecure students would swarm anything different.

You should’ve known that you’d be the number one target. The adopted teenager living with the most famous heroes in the world. It was dumb to think you’d be able to fly under the radar the way Peter had. The boy had comforted you those days leading up to your freshman year. Having just finished his own he told you that it would be fine. Boy was he wrong.

The freshman hall was far enough away from the sophomores that he never saw your torment, and over the last three years you learned how to make sure he never would. You wouldn’t let the boy who’d always been like an older brother to you get caught in the crossfire. He’d try to stick up for you and blow the only normal thing he had left. You’ve made it to junior year, you can make it the rest of the way.

You’re pulled out of your thoughts by a shoulder slamming into yours, sending you stumbling into the lockers.

“Watch it Annie!” A girl called over her shoulder and you frowned at the nickname. Ever since the kids found out you were adopted they started calling you Annie, after the orphan girl, and you hated it. Rather than saying anything you just quickened your pace and slipped into your first class.

“It’s fine that they call me that,” you mumble to yourself, “that way I don’t flinch at the sound of my own name being called. I’d never be able to hide that from Peter. Or Wanda. Especially not from mom.”

You try to rationalize everything as you settle into your desk, pretending not to see the kids pointing at you and laughing as you become the brunt of their joke.

xxxxx

You manage to ignore it for the most part. The words aren’t what hurt. Well they do, whoever said words will never hurt me obviously didn’t know what they were talking about. But that hurt you could cover with a fake smile and an excuse of being stressed over homework or some other thinly veiled excuse. The giant bruise forming on your forehead was harder to hide.

Some girl named Beverly decided it’d be funny to trip you at lunch, sending you head first into the table. Now you had a lovely purple mark and some swelling by your hairline. Thank god you left a beanie in your locker. It should be enough to cover the injury.

“Hey Romanoff!” The call of your name makes your head snap up in panic, you quickly pull on the hat as Peter makes his way towards you.

“Oh hey Pete, what brings you to my neck of the woods?” you ask, a genuine smile on your face for the first time today.

“I’m heading to the tower to do some work with Tony, wanna walk together?” his smile is wide as he asks, completely carefree, and you wish you could feel that way as well.

“Uh, yeah. Sounds good,” you try to sound casual. There’s no way to brush him off without being obvious. You’re waking the exact same route. Luckily the walk home is fairly uneventful. The assholes seem to be warded off by Peter. The late autumn heat has him in a tank top that shows off his arms, and while he’s not the buffest guy in the school, it’s obvious he can hold his own. If only they knew how strong he really was.

You see a few people staring, more like glaring, but you’re able to ignore them pretty easily. Soon enough the two of you are walking into the lobby of the tower incident free.

“I’m gonna head to the labs. You good from here?” Peter’s question feels heavy, almost as if he was intentionally trying to make you feel safer, but you brush the feeling off with a nod and a wave as you head to the elevator. You’re probably overthinking it. A few moments later you're in the common room and you let out a sigh of relief. Finally a safe place. No teasing here, or at least none with any malice behind it.

“Hey, y/n. How was school?” you look up to see Wanda on the couch and you immediately blush.

“Hey Wan, it was alright. How was...whatever it is you do here during the day?” you tease and she rolls her eyes, a matching blush painting her cheeks. Thank god the kids at school don’t know about this...whatever you have with Wanda. They’d tear you to shreds.

“I do online school and I work, thank you very much. I do important stuff here, ya know, like saving the world,” she’s glaring at you as she says it, but you can see something in her eyes. You can’t quite place it, friendship, something more? Whatever it is, it’s so different from the hate you see from the kids at school.

“A bit full of yourself, aren’t you? I feel like that’s all just fancy talk for free loading and laziness. You gotta get out there, get some dirt under your nails. You’re too spoiled, spending all this time in the tower,” you notice yourself leaning closer to her as you talk and your eyes involuntarily flash towards her lips as butterflies take over your stomach.

“And that uh…that fancy private school you spend your time in. That’s gotta be really...tough?” she tries to defend herself but her words come out weak as she inches ever so much closer. you ‘re about to close the gap when you hear a voice from the doorway.

“I thought I heard you come in. How was school?” The two of you spring apart at your mom’s voice.

“It was good,” you squeak out, adjusting your hat to cover your forehead.

“Yeah, learning a lot,” Wanda mumbles as your mom rolls her eyes. She’s well aware of the weird relationship you and Wanda have, and while she’d prefer you didn’t date until you’re well into your thirties she knows if you’re going to, then Wanda is a good choice.

“What’s with the beanie, love? It’s like eighty degrees out,” your mom’s questions has you panicking.

“I uh...like it. It’s cool,” you defend and Wanda rolls her eyes this time, back to her playful self from earlier.

“I’m sweating just looking at you. Let me help!” she teases and you see the red mist around her hands before you feel it.

“No!” you lunge at her, as if you’d be any match for her powers, but before you even reach her your hat is floating in the air and her eyes are wide.

“What the hell happened?” your mom’s voice is harsh and tears are already gathering in your eyes. You look frantically between your mom and Wanda, who seems to take the hint.

“I’ll give you two some space,” Wanda says before hastily leaving the room.

“Y/n, what happened?” she asks again, gentler this time but you still try to get out of it.

“It’s nothing-” the look in her eyes stops you. It’s the look she sent you when you would try to sneak candy after bedtime when you were little, but this time there’s a pain mixed in that you’re not used to seeing. “It’s just some kids at school. They like to pick on me. It’s really not that big of a deal.”

“How long has this been going on?” She looks...sad and it kind of scares you. That’s not an emotion you’re used to your mom having. Stoicness, yes especially when she’s working. Happiness, yes; more often since you came around your uncles tell you. Love, confidence, bravery, exasperation, even anger sometimes. But almost never sadness or pain and now she’s shown both of those in a matter of minutes.

“Mom,” you try again but she shakes her head, brushing the tears forming in her eyes.

“How long, love?” she asks again and you sigh.

“Since freshman year.” It’s her turn to sigh. Sitting next to you on the couch and pulling you into her side gently. It’s an odd mix of emotions, you can see on her face that she doesn’t know if she wants to cry or burn your school to the ground. You’re sure Wanda is getting a headache trying to sort through the many emotions coming from this room. You ignore that though. You leave the turmoil to everyone else for once as you finally relax, the weight of your secret finally off your shoulders.

“Friday, call Wanda and Peter in here please,” her voice is calm, and you don’t know if you should be scared.

“Mom? What are you-”

“I just want to talk to them,” she cuts you off, and you don’t have time to argue before the two are entering the room.

“Hey Miss Romanoff, Friday said you wanted to-Oh my god! What happened?” Peter yells as he sees the bruise maring your face, and Wanda is silent behind him as he processes the scene. Her eyes are red, almost like she’s been crying. Was she crying for you?

“By that reaction I’m guessing you didn’t know about this. Maximoff, are those tears of sympathy or fear for your life?” your mom snaps and you glare at her.

“I didn’t know, if that’s what you’re asking. I wouldn’t have sat by while she was being hurt,” there’s an anger behind Wanda’s words that you weren’t expecting. You didn’t think she’d cared this much. It makes sense, though, when you think about how you’d feel if the situation was reversed.

“As much as I wanna walk down to the school guns blazing, I can’t go beat up a bunch of kids, so I’m going to need the two of you to look out for her,” you scoff and stand from the couch at your mom’s words, crossing your arms across your chest.

“Excuse me, I’m right here. I’m not an invalid! And Wanda doesn’t even go to my school.”

“I’m well aware, you and I are starting training as soon as that heals,” she gestures to your forehead, “and Wanda will be enrolling in your school. Tony can have it all set up by tomorrow.”

“What? No! I’m not letting her start school just so she can get beaten up too!” you practically yell, but Wanda’s hand on your arm has you looking to her.

“I’m not letting my…” there’s a heavy pause, one that you know you’ll have to find the right word for soon, “friend get hurt when I could help. Plus, they quite literally can’t hurt me, and I want to be there for you.”

Her words have your resolve cracking, but you don’t want to give in that easy. “You’re a year older. You’ll be gone before me,” you try to argue and Wanda looks away, a blush of embarrassment on her cheeks.

“She also missed a lot of school in Sokovia. She tested in a grade below you,” your mom explains, and it clicks as to why Wanda always did school online. Well one of the reasons at least, she’d be two years older than her classmates.

“Well I could tutor you,” you offer quickly, not wanting Wanda to feel ashamed in front of you. “It seems like we’re gonna be spending most of our time together. Plus you’re miles smarter than me. You’ll be the one teaching me in no time.”

“Then it’s settled. This won’t happen again.” Your mom’s words feel more like a promise and you smile. “And I want the names of the girls that did this to you.”

“Mom! I thought you agreed no beating up kids!” you argue, a smile finding its way back on your face as you try to hold back a laugh.

“I’m not going to beat them up. But I never said anything about some light hacking,” she says with a wink and you roll your eyes, not entirely sure if she’s kidding or not.

tag list: @rvgrsbrns @rororo06 @prizmix-and-friends @worlds-in-words @im-salt-but-not-salty @5aftermidnight @riotmaximoff @xxxtwilightaxelxxx 

Marvel women tag list: @imnotasuperhero 

Natasha Romanoff tag list: @indiavance555

[katytheinspiredworkaholic]

✏, hotchreid, first kiss 🥺

You don’t just get a blurb honey, you get the whole damn night. I’ll eventually start writing blurbs and not full-length oneshots for these asks, but Cee (my love my family my favorite always) is who got me back into CM in the first place so yours was always going to be the long, fleshed out version. I love you so my dear. 

((P.S. Yes I’m still working on the 200follower asks xD I’m so sorry life got in the way and I discovered hcs but I’m being responsible and finishing all of these now I promise!!!))

Personal plot bunny: Hotch invites Reid over to help with a research paper/with Jack and Reid gets to see his boss all domestic and soft, and in turn Spencer just kind of fits in his home seamlessly and Hotch kisses him as he leaves.

Word Count: 3107

--

It’s a perfectly ordinary day in late November when Hotch opens his apartment door to Reid standing there in the clothes he’d worn to work earlier that day. Satchel over his shoulder, wrapped in jacket and scarf, and giving him a small quirk of a smile in greeting -- still very obviously thrown off kilter that Hotch had invited him over in the first place. 

When Reid said he’d lend him a hand on his most recent research paper, the younger agent had probably expected them to do it at the office. Interviews and research were all a big part of having a Behavioral Science subunit at the FBI, and published papers were a requirement from all BAU members to aid in this endeavor. Every team had to keep a steady output of resources and research studies going just to keep funding for the department afloat. He may be Unit Chief, but Hotch was no exception to these requirements, even with as much work as he has to put in on the regular. 

Usually, he can do his research and piece together papers in between his daily paperwork. But this week Jess is sick with a stomach flu, and Jack hadn’t gotten to spend time with Hotch in what feels like a month. So the easiest solution was obviously to invite Reid to have dinner with them at his home, entertain him while he read over the drafted paper and helped Hotch out. 

Obviously. 

The only reasonable option, really. 

“Thanks for coming, Reid,” Hotch greets back with a softened expression as he looks him up and down. “Did you even go home first?” The very first thing Hotch always does is change out of his suit when he gets home, shedding that armour as best he can to switch mindsets between Agent Hotchner of the FBI, and Aaron Hotchner the ever-stressed-out single dad. That evening donning worn jeans and a heather grey Henley to better accommodate himself within the space. 

“Oh -- no, I didn’t see much point,” Reid shrugs, then motioning to his satchel which is now filled with books that weren’t there when he’d left the bull pen a couple hours before. “I stopped by the law library in Georgetown and found a few more references, just in case you were using the Favero citations instead of Weston and I don’t have all of those read yet -- or I didn’t. I do now. But I still brought them--”

Hotch smiles, a real smile -- small as it is, but no less fond of Reid going out of his way to help him. But before he can thank him again Jack’s socked feet come thundering down the hall behind him. 

“Dr. Spencer! Dr. Spencer! Dr. Spencer!” And he’s slipping past Hotch, smooth and fluid as water, attaching himself to Reid’s legs and waist in a hug with a big smile that looks so much like Aaron’s own. When he’d been younger, only about three or four years old, Jack had been deathly scared of Doctor’s visits. It had been Reid’s idea to have Jack start calling him ‘Dr. Spencer’ to help alleviate some of that fear, associating the moniker with his non-threatening and familiar face. Reid had been much younger then, too, and that had helped the tactic work like a charm. Haley had been over the moon when his reverse psychology worked out so well. 

“Jack! Woah, you got taller!” Reid’s whole demeanor changes. A little more animated, more comfortable, even -- and Hotch could remember a time when Reid hadn’t even wanted to hold a child for fear of the interaction. Now, he was always the first to talk to one if JJ didn’t beat him to it. “How’ve you been?” “Good!” Jack says excitedly, barreling over the small talk in ways only children can. “Dad says you’re going to help him with his homework, can you help me with mine too?!”

Reid smiles even wider and chances a glance at Hotch that he feels in his chest. “You bet, I love helping with homework.”

Jack just scrunches his nose up at him. “Why?”

“Because it’s fun.”

“Homework isn’t fun.”

“Well, maybe you’ve been doing it wrong.” 

“Let’s let Dr. Reid in from the hallway,” Hotch interrupts with a laugh, herding his son and the younger agent inside. “Jack, go get your homework and you can do it at the table,” Hotch says as he takes Reid’s coat and watches him kick off his shoes by the door. Mismatched socks prominent against the hardwood floors. Making himself at home, shedding some of the layers and getting comfortable in the space much like Aaron does every day after work. “Hope you like spaghetti. It won’t be as good as Rossi’s.”

“Who doesn’t love spaghetti,” Spencer grins with a soft laugh. “Rossi’s is almost too fancy for me, anyway.”

“A man of simple tastes,” Hotch teases him.

“I’m easily impressed.”

“Lucky me.” 

It slips out, the low, comfortable banter, and Reid’s eyes are alight and Aaron feels himself smiling enough his dimples show, and he leads the way to the kitchen where dinner is already in the works on the stove. Filling the small condo with the smell of tomato sauce and garlic. 

-

Jack and Reid set up at the kitchen bartop where they can watch Hotch finish cooking and stay within reach of conversation. It doesn’t take long for Hotch to finish making dinner, or for Jack to finish his homework spurred on by Reid’s strange enthusiasm for math problems. With how much time they spend talking about psychology and sociology (and sometimes even philosophy) Hotch always forgets one of Reid’s Ph.D.’s is in mathematics. 

“Numbers just make sense,” he explains, when Hotch brings it up while drizzling olive oil on the drained pasta on the stove. “There’s always a right answer and the rest are wrong. It’s comforting, to an extent, but predictable -- that’s why I shifted focus from sciences to humanities. There’s no right or wrong answers in philosophy, it’s all argumentative. Always evolving. I prefer that, it’s no fun having all the answers.” 

And coming from someone who does always have all the right answers, that must mean something profound to the younger man. One conversation outside the walls of the BAU and Hotch already feels like he understands Reid more than he has in a long time.

--

Dinner runs so smoothly it’s as if Reid is always there for it. Jack even finishes all of his food and helps with the dishes before Hotch has to ask him to. Making the two men exchange a glance and Hotch ask, “You charge by the hour?” and Reid laughs into his water glass in reply. They end up talking a bit about the paper Hotch has been working on, along with about a dozen other things Reid launches into in side tangents -- from the books he’d read during his brief visit to Georgetown that afternoon, to his most recent philosophical debate he had with his doctoral advisor about his thesis paper he’ll have to submit at the end of next month. 

“Do you need time to piece it together? I didn’t know you were that close to your next Ph.D.”

“Oh, no, it’s fine,” Reid waves him off. “I just need a weekend where we are actually in town and not on a case, and I’ll get it finished.” 

“I’ve been working on this paper for the past six months,” Hotch all but balks in disbelief. “How can you write a Ph.D. dissertation in a weekend?”

“Well, I’m not the Unit Chief or a single parent,” Reid points out with a gentle grin, and Hotch feels one pulling at his own lips as well. “But it’s mostly written anyway, just all up here.” He points to his head, and Hotch bets he could recite the paper verbatim with what he writes up when he has the time.

“You could always write it on the jet,” Hotch says. 

“I do,” Reid smirks, and Hotch can’t help but roll his eyes. “In my head, someone is usually taking up the table with a headstart on paperwork.”

“I think they can be talked into relinquishing some table top space,” Hotch says, until Reid gives him a look. “Oh, you mean me?”

“You spread out everything to keep it organized in piles.” 

“I’d share with you.”

“You told Rossi to use the couch last week when he wanted to answer emails,” Reid says with a barely contained laugh.

“Yeah, well, he’s not you,” Hotch admits before he can take it back, and Reid almost answers -- mouth open and everything -- when Jack comes back and is all but begging ‘Dr. Spencer’ to help him with his science fair project he hadn’t even decided on. 

--

The rest of the evening ends up with the three holed up in Hotch’s office, Reid surrounded by Law books and reading material he hasn’t gotten to sift through before, Hotch with his drafted paper printed out for Reid’s ease of access, and Jack with his science textbook and a notebook already talking Reid’s ear off about a science project for the spring. 

But once the time starts to tip into the later hours of the night, Hotch tells Jack to get ready for bed and say goodnight to Dr. Reid. 

“Goodnight, Dr. Spencer. Thanks for your help,” Jack says politely, ingrained in him by his father and Reid smiles a little too bright and soft at the same time at how sweet it is he tries to be good for company.

“You know, Jack, you can just call me Spencer if you’d like,” he says, knowing that the older boy has already outgrown his fear of the doctor and the reverse psychology is no longer needed.

Jack looks a little confused for a moment. “Dad doesn’t.” 

“Well, your dad can, too -- if he wants,” Reid says, looking to Hotch and they share a look he once again can feel in his chest. Watching the whole interaction with a carefully guarded expression, but it melts under Reid’s glance and he isn’t quite sure what is there anymore. But whatever it is, it makes Reid smile softly at him.

“Okay, goodnight Spencer,” Jack interrupts their moment, and hugs Reid around the neck from where he’s sitting cross-legged on the floor. It jostles the younger man, and Hotch smiles wide and ducks his head down to hide it. But Reid hugs Hotch’s son back, and tells him goodnight, as well. “You’ll come back, right?”

“Of course, I’d love to,” Reid tells him, and -- satisfied -- Jack goes off to brush his teeth, leaving the two in a lull of heavy silence. “Sorry, I think I just invited myself over, some time.”

“You’re welcome anytime.” And he means that, knows Reid knows that as he looks at him a little more soundly than before. “Not just for work.” If that needed to be said. 

And if Reid’s face flushes a little darker in the low lighting, Hotch doesn’t mention. No matter how much he can’t seem to look away.

Reid looks over his entire paper while Hotch tucks Jack into bed, and is already making notes on it at his desk when the man returns. The next hour rolls into two, and Hotch drags another chair in from the kitchen so they can share his desk and work through bullet points on the paper but… it was pretty much done, from the start. Even Reid’s edits didn’t take them long. After a while they dissolve into just talking, discussions and anecdotes and sitting maybe a little too close and laughing so much and so loud sometimes they have to quiet themselves so they don’t wake Jack down the hall. 

It’s almost 10:30 by the time they resurface from each other, before Hotch realizes Reid probably needs to go home because they both have to be at work bright and early. But this was… this was the best night he’s had in a long, long time, and he wants to do it again. Soon. More than soon. More than once. He thinks about all of this as he follows Reid to the front door and helps him gather the rest of his things. 

“We should do this again, sometime,” Hotch mentions, hands in his pockets and trying to be more cool about this than he feels.

“I’d like that, I had a lot of fun tonight,” Reid answers, standing up from tying his shoes and giving him that bright, wide smile he doesn’t always feel comfortable enough to allow. It never fails to stall Hotch in his tracks, staring a little too long at his mouth than he should be. 

“What if, next time, it’s just us? And no Jack?” he continues, elaboration just in case Reid doesn’t grasp what he’s asking. Reid is watching him with this look as if he’s unsure he heard correctly, and Hotch is nothing if not patient.

“I’d… I’d be okay with that,” Reid answers, slowly as he weighs some unseen options and gauges Hotch’s facial expressions to the most minute detail.

“Good. How about Saturday?”

He can see the moment it all clicks into place.

“...Are you asking me on a date?” Reid asks, a little winded. 

“If that’s alright with you,” Hotch says with a half smile. Once again sounding more confident than he should in the face of how Reid’s eyes start to dart around and he licks his lips nervously.

“I don’t know how -- how good I am with dates.” There’s a story behind that, and Hotch wants to know it, but he does his best to press Reid gently. Because… he’s been holding off asking the younger man for a long time, now, but after tonight he gets the feeling that he might not have needed to be so hesitant, after all. 

“Oh?”

“Just -- the ritual of it all always throws me off. Dressing up and going out, and making conversation over dinner while trying to eat and maintain the other’s attention, and then keeping it all going if you manage to do that I just don’t always do so well one-on-one and --”

“Reid.” He pauses, then -- “Spencer.” And that stalls his stream of thought to words, catching Spencer’s attention and snagging it in the best way. “...we just did all of that. And it was great.” Hotch knows his own expression has softened around the edges over the course of the night, smiles easier to hold, eyes more expressive, and Spencer takes in every change and nuance with a well-practice eye and is… very obviously stunned by what he finds. “So -- I’d like to do it again. Saturday?” 

Shocked, eyes a little wide, breath lost to the wind, Spencer waits a beat too long to answer. Enough to make Hotch nervous, before he answers in a sound that could have been a whisper if it had been quieter. A slight crack to it that betrays his emotion.

“Okay.” 

Hotch gets a turn to be stunned, because he thought this had been about to take a very different turn. “Okay?”

“Yeah.”

“--Okay.”

Intelligent men that they were, that was the extent of the conversation, and then Reid is smiling that bright, sunshine laced smile and Hotch is trying to contain his own and -- Reid still needs to go home. So, biting his lip, Reid turns as if to leave -- is just about out the door when he stops and turns back so quick he almost runs into Hotch on the threshold. 

“So… technically, that means this was our first date, then. Right?” he looks so goddamn hopeful, and like he has something further to add, that Hotch smiles outright and this time doesn’t bother hiding it.

“Technically, yes.” He supposes it was. And it really had been… a great night. Not a bad first date, at all.

Reid takes far too long trying to string together words after that. Keeps looking to Hotch then away to gather his thoughts, then back again as if in search of something; and it’s after about the third time that Hotch realizes what he’s getting at. What he’s trying to find a way to ask. 

It hits him so silent and hard it about knocks the wind out of him.

Oh.

He can do that.

Hotch steps closer, about the same time Spencer opens his mouth like he’s finally figured out the right combination of words within the range of the English language to form a coherent sentence, and they all die on his tongue the moment Hotch guides him back with a hand on his hip. He’s done it before, gentle leading when Reid strays the wrong way or needs to be shifted in a crowded room on cases, and this time is just as easy and no different.

Except this time, Hotch isn’t maneuvering them to get past him. This time, he presses Spencer’s spine to the doorframe and leans in to capture his lips with his own. Right there, in the open doorway.

Hotch kisses him, and it’s perfect.

The gentle slide of lips is over before either know it, lasts longer than his racing heart can measure, and before Hotch can decide his next move Spencer tilts in closer and kisses him back, slow and methodical and Hotch feels that. Feels it the way he’s felt every moment they had and shared the whole night. His free hand finds that sharp jaw framed in messy curls getting longer all over again, and Spencer doesn’t seem to know what to do with his hands beyond grasp at Hotch’s shirt at his sides and then -- 

Then Hotch pulls back enough that he can nudge his nose against Spencer’s carefully, a punctuation that ends the kiss soft and apologetic. Silently says that’s all they can do tonight. That there’s more, awaiting them, but that… 

That had been one hell of a good first kiss.

“See you in the morning, Spencer.” 

For once, Dr. Spencer Reid is speechless in an entirely new way, and he merely nods with lips still parted and a little darker from the kiss. From kissing him, and Hotch knows he stares more than he should, but that’s been a frequent occurrence lately. It’s just getting harder and harder to turn away, watch Reid -- Spencer -- smile at him in that quiet way only ever directed at him, and then walk away. But he lets it happen, feels every step even as he shuts the door behind him.

Because Hotch will see Spencer tomorrow.

And, one day, maybe he won’t have to watch him walk away at all. 

[daddysfangirls-anime]

Dad’s choice

Warning: language, fluff

summary: the reader is All Might’s daughter. Recently he had been pushing her to hangout and possibly date, Midoriya. Not okay with that she finally introduced her father to her boyfriend.

(y/n) sighed as she stored off into the distance Midoriya was next to her explaining a math formula. In the last 20 minutes she hadn’t heard a word he said. She didn’t want to be here she didn’t want to or need to study. She had plans already but her father made her cancel them to have a study date session with Midoriya.

All Might, her father, had been interfering with her relationship with Midoriya and trying to make it something more. She didn’t actually notice until the 4th study session when he made her invite Midoriya over to their house. The dim lights, closed curtains, air conditioning on high, the two of them leaning close together, and her father spying on them in the corner of her eyes. At that moment she realized and thought how the hell did I not notice this before? that creepy skinny shit.

Right now this was their 6th study session they were just going over the material. She was so lost in thought that she didn’t notice he had stopped talking 10 minutes ago.

“I’m sorry,” she said as she closed her textbook.

“It’s okay. We’ve already studied this material. It’s getting late we should head home” he said as he began to pack away his things.

“Midoriya?”

“yes?”

“Why do you study. why?”Midoriya blushed and rubbed the back of his neck “um...All Might said you were trying to spend time with me but didn’t know how to ask... he might have implied you have a ....crush on me?” he was red now trying his best to look everywhere but her.“Midoriya... Midoriya look at me” she sounded completely serious. Swallowing his embarrassment and a bit of fear she looked at him with a serious and determined looked. “I have a boyfriend” and with that said she swung her bag over her shoulder and walked away leaving Midoriya to melt in his seat from humiliation. Oh, why did the world hate him so.-(y/n) was fuming as she stomped home she burst inside ready to give her old man a piece of her mind only to be met with an empty home. He was late probably doing unnecessary hero work. At the thought of this, her anger came down to a simmer. Immediately she went into her lonely routine kicking off her shoes, putting away her bag, finishing any leftover homework, bathing and starting dinner.

No longer wanting silence she called her boyfriend. He didn’t answer. “He’s probably training. aw, I wanted to rant” with her boyfriend MIA and not really wanting rumors to spread in class she called the next best person.

“H-Hello?” Midoriya answered hesitantly

“Hey... I’ m sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean to upset you”

“It’s okay. It seems you didn’t know what was going on” he chuckled she could imagine him rubbing the back of his next sheepishly.

“I did actually” (y/n) said as he pinned up her hair to prepare for dinner “ I found out after the 4th study date. But I didn’t think you knew so...”

“yeah,” he sighed, “ I thought you actually liked me. I wanted to put you down gently” she laughed nearly spilling what she was making.

“when Deku? we were on our 6th study date.”

“I was working up to it”

“when?”

“10th?... maybe12th? I’m not good with girls” she laughed some more. Midoriya was smiling on the other end of the phone but it soon began to flatter. “The truth is I really do like you and I enjoy spending time together with you. And when school started we weren’t training together anymore, we didn’t spend time together in class, or outside of class. When All Might said you wanted to study I thought we could get back together but then he mentioned you had a crush on me then I got confused. I mean you’re beautiful and I care about you.”

(y/n) continued cooking and listening to Midoriya. In 20 minutes of rambling he had confessed his feelings for Urakara, he loved Bakugo like a brother, still thought he couldn’t be a hero ( but he then talked himself into becoming the best), he was worried about the stress he put on his mother, and though of All Might as a father figure. Then he stopped talking altogether.

“Are you done?”

“yes...who’s your boyfriend?”

“huh?!”

“you-you said you have a boyfriend but not who so...who’s your boyfriend?”

(y/n) was a bit nerve she and her boyfriend hadn’t made their relationship public and she didn’t know if he would like her telling anyone. This was Midoriya surely he wouldn't say anything.

“Is he in our class?”

“um... yes?”

“Okay, I know who he is”

“huh?!”

“I know who your boyfriend is,” he said in a matter of fact tone

“how? I didn’t even tell you his name”

“I’m very observant”. (y/n) was dumbstruck for a moment before she began to laugh. Of course, Midoriya had spent most of his life observing others and researching quirks and heroes in detail. If anyone were to find out it would be him. He always paid attention to even the smallest details.

“You know he really likes you he treats you different from everyone else. But if he hurts you let me know I’ll knock some sense into him.” now he was rambling about how he would obviously lose that fight but do it for her honor never the less because he cared about her and no one should ever hurt her and he loved her like a sister and

“Midoriya … I love you” he smiled on the other and of the phone. He truly did care for her like family.

“I love you too”. And with that, they hung up.

(y/n) had just ended her call with Midoriya and finished making dinner when she heard someone clear their throat. “so … you and Midoriya” All Might said as he slowly walked into the kitchen. He raged from earlier was coming back in full swing she didn’t wan tot even look at him.

“dinner is made. You clean up.” She turned away from him stomping upstairs without another word.

He had royally fucked up but had no clue as to how. At least she and Midoriya finally got together he assumed.

-

The next morning All Might was roughly awakened by his daughter he had no clue why she was angry but she had resorted to the silent treatment and her silent treatment was unbreakable even to the greatest. Three days later and All Might was begging on his knees for his daughter's forgiveness. Literally. He had missed her voice.

“Please baby I’m sorry. Tell me what I did wrong and I’ll fix it. Please” he begged down on his knees forehead touching the floor. She ignored him continued flipping through her book. “please sweetheart let me fix whatever I broke. Please talk to me. I’m begging you”. She closed her book and stood up avoiding all eye contact with him.

“I have a boyfriend. We’re going on a date tomorrow. You can meet him when he picks me up.” and with that, she walked off leaving him stunned and ... happy he still believed she was dating with Midoriya.

-

All Might was all excited waiting for his daughter to come out this was her very first date, to his knowledge, and her first boyfriend he wasn’t missing anything. He jumped up camera ready once he heard her bedroom door opening. Soon as she rounded the corner *click*

“what the hell are you doing” (y/n) said temporarily blinded by the flash. Gaining her vision back she rushed to her father trying to snatch the camera.

“b-but you’re so beautiful” his voice cracked and his eyes teared up. She sighed turning around and posing up against the wall.

“turn off the flash.” After a dozen or so pictures the doorbell rang “ buff up” she said as she raced to the door, her boyfriends were very impatient. All Might exited the living and nearly deflated to skinny Toshinori. This was not Midoriya.

“Daddy, I’d like you to meet my boyfriend... Bakugo” the room fell into intense silences as both males started to glare at each other. All Might because he did not want his daughter going out with this punk and Bakugo because... well All Might started it.

“How long have you two been...?” he gritted his teeth unable to finished the complete sentence.

“9 months,” Bakugo said with confidence.

“so before UA?”

“yes daddy, before UA. Well we should go don’t want to be late”

“your purse sweetheart”

“Oh, I almost forgot. Be right back” she rushed to her room leaving the two alone with each other.

“9 months? did think you had to meet me, her father.”

“I didn’t know you were her father until UA. Plus she wanted to keep it down low. Also, you’re not exactly an easy man to get a hold off...sir”

All Might leaned down his face next to his ear. “ I might be the symbol of peace but fuck with my daughter and I’ll become chaos. Do you understand?”

Bakugo now understood why villains and criminals alike feared All Might’s smile. But he wasn’t backing down.

“Sir, I care for her deeply. I love her. I will never ever hurt her nor will I let anyone or anything else even touch her. I’m going to protect her with my everything and more.”

All Might sighed standing up he reached forward and ruffles the young man's hair. It takes everything not to smack his hand away.

“Good, good answer.”

“Alright, I’m ready...what happened?” (y/n) immediately knew something was off the tension was gone. What did they do?

“nothing love, are you ready?” her father seems more willing to let her go out now he seemed more relax now.

“Yeah?” she looked at Bakugo who just rolled his eyes clearly annoyed.

“well, you two enjoy your date curfew is 10:30 and no later”

“of course daddy” she slips on her shoes and pushes Bakugo out the door

“I’ll find you”

“okay daddy” she closes the door

“I WILL HUNT YOU”

“BYE DAD” She screams through the door. And with that, she was long gone and he deflated to small Toshinori. He had a small smile on his lips. Although Bakugo wasn’t his choice

“he’s not that bad”

[jadedxrealityw]

-What did you say?- Draco Malfoy x Female Reader

Summary: Y/N and Draco are have been dating for a couple months when Y/N lets three words slip from her mouth.

Warning: Super fluff

House: Slytherin.

     Y/N grumbled as she pushes past the portrait to the Slytherin common room, she had so much homework to do and was a tad stressed. She looked around the common room to see no one there. Sighing to herself she walks over to one of the couches and takes a seat. She pushes a strand of her H/C from her face as she pulls out her textbooks from her bag. Looking at the bulking books and stack off homework made her let out a frustrated groan.

     Taking off her robe and placing it down on the table, Y/N rolled up her sleeves to her elbows and got started. Snape’s homework was probably the most difficult. It took her a few hours to finish the essay on the draught of peace, which she wished she had some for herself.

     When Y/N got to her charms work she let out a small yawn. A quick nap wouldn't hurt right? she placed her quill on the table and laid back onto the couch. She closed her eyes and curled into herself, drifting into a dreamless sleep. It was peaceful and she definitely needed the rest. 

    A couple hours past and it was now the evening. Y/N shuffled around and opened her eyes expecting to see the common room, but saw a dorm room instead. It wasn’t hers though. It was a boys dorm. Y/N sat up slowly, someone took off her shoes and put a blanket over her. “Glad to see your awake, love” a low voice interrupted your thoughts.  

     Y/N turned to the left to see Draco sitting at his desk, but the chair was facing the bed, was he waiting for her to wake up? “Draco? you brought me in here?” she asked even though it was blatantly obvious. The boy nodded his head as he got up from the chair and sat on the bed next to her. “Couldn't have my girlfriend sleeping on a couch now could i? What kind of boyfriend would i be?”

     A small chuckle came from Y/N and gave him a warm smile. The smile quickly faded when she remember her unfinished work “OH no! my charms work! i didn't finish it and its already so late, that means i missed the deadline” the words rushed out as she groaned, sticking her face in her hands “I cant afford another bad grade”

    “Y/N.....Y/N, love look at me for a second” Draco pleaded as he used his thumb and pointer finger to gently force her to look at him. She looked defeated and it made Draco’s heart tug. “I already did it for you” he said and let go off her face. Y/N blinked a couple times with a dumbfounded expression “You um....you what?”

     Draco chuckled softly at his girlfriends cute reaction “When i saw you sleeping, i also saw your homework that wasn’t done so i picked you up and your things first, took you here, laid you down, did your work, and turned it in for you. It was pretty easy, nothing i couldn’t handle for my lovely girlfriend”

     Y/N stared in complete shock, he did that all for her. Just because he wanted to, he wanted to take a bit of stress off of her and he did. Heaven knows she would of drove herself crazy trying to do so much in such little time. Draco looked at her with a brow raised and lifted his hand to wave it in front of her “Love, are you okay? Are you mad at me? I just wanted to help?-”

     “i love you”

     Draco blinked a couple of times as your words repeated in his head, his hand slowly falling to his lap. He gulped “What did you say?” he asked in utter disbelief, thinking his ears had failed him. Y/N’s face heated up when she realised what she had just blurted out to her boyfriend. 

     “Oh my merlin, i didn’t mean to say that! I- I mean i did, but not like that! No- i mean i do love you a lot” Y/N rambled, the last part of her sentence making Draco’s eyes widened, she took notice and shook her head “No- i-” in fear she would say anymore, Y/N took one of the pillows from Draco’s bed and placed it in her lap, before slamming her red face in it.

     Draco regained his composure after he had processed what had just happened. She said ‘i love you’ to him. Something he had been dying to say to her and sh had beaten him to it. At least his feelings were reciprocated. He looked down at the flustered girl in front of him and smiled warmly “Y/N, get your face out of the pillow”.

     “No, i'm embarrassed” she replied in a muffled voice. Draco shook his head and grabbed her shoulders, pulling her face from the pillow “Y/N, look at me darling” he says and she shakes her head “I already know what your gonna say” Y/N murmurs like a child who had been caught doing something wrong. Draco looked at her amusingly “And what am i going to say?” he asked.

     Y/N sniffles which caught Draco’s attention instantly, was she crying? he thought “That you don't love me” she choked out. Draco frowned and lifted her chin so her E/C eyes met his cold grey ones. “I love you too” he said, a warm smile gracing his lips. Y/N searched his face for any signs that he was lying, he wasn’t. He truly loved her and she truly loved him.

     “Now stop with these useless tears” he added as he used his thumb to wipe a stray tear from her cheek. Y/N smiles and wrapped her arms around the pale boys neck. He smirked slightly as his hands made there way to her hips, giving them a playful squeeze before leaning in to kiss her softly, it was filled with love and passion like no other. After a minute or so the pair pulled away, Draco letting out a yawn. 

     “Looks like someone's tired?” Y/N teased playfully as pecked his nose sweetly. He chuckles and nods “That i am, darling but ill only sleep if your here with me” he smiles. Y/N giggles and nods “Okay i can do that” she replies. Draco laid back and let Y/N’s head rest on his chest. He kept his protective hold on her as she pulled the blanket over the two.

   Her eyes flutter shut and Draco uses his wand to turn off the lights before placing it on his nightstand, looking at the girl on top of him he knows he's complete and has found true happiness with her “I love you” he mumbles and kisses her head, closing his eyes as well. “I love you too Draco”

     and with that, they both fell fast asleep.....

A/N: Request anything you like me to write for a Draco x reader

[bruh--wtf]

Butterflies

Remus Lupin x Reader

Main Masterlist

Part 1

Next

Summary: You're Lily Evans' little sister. She isn't the only witch in the family.

Remus Lupin Masterlist

You were excited to see your favorite sister again. Today was the day that you went with your parents to get Lily from the train station. You'd seen her over the holidays and read her letters, but you missed her.

You saw your sister's bright red hair and ran through the crowd, ignoring your parents protesting behind you. You were only a year younger than Lily, but sometimes everyone treated you like a child.

"Lily!" You call. She look back, a little confused. You jumped infront of her, not minding the boy she was talking to. You wrapped your arms around, making her stumble back a bit. She laughed, hugging you back just as tightly. "I missed you so much!" You pull away a little bit to look at her. "Petunia has been a nightmare! She's made friends with all these jerks who of course just must hate me! And-" Your sister cuts you off.

"Slow down, Y/N," she says, chuckling. "Petunia and her friends can wait." You nod, and smile again.

"Anyways, I want to hear about your year. Of course I saw you at Christmas, and I read your letters, but still! I'm sure your friends are much better than hers. Will you have them over during the summer? Do you-" a boy cuts you off.

"How much sweets have you had, kid?" The boy with dark hair and glasses asks. Lily gives him a pointed look. He wasn't the boy Lily had been talking to. The other boy had lighter brown hair and was tall. He was scrawny, gangly. But he looked much nicer. And the boy next to the boy in glances had longer black hair. Then there was the fair haired boy who looked like he didn't very well fit in with the other three.

"I'm not a kid," you say, glaring at the boy. Yes, you were short for your age. But you had grown to hate when people assumed things about you because of it. The boy raises an eyebrow, almost amused.

"Yeah, she's definitely Evans' sister," he says, glancing at Lily who rolled her eyes.

"Y/N, this is James, Sirius, and Peter. And this is my friend Remus," she says. Pointedly not calling the other three her friends. You nodded at the other three and gave the much taller boy a small smile.

"Nice to meet you," you say. He nods in agreement, clearly amused with the situation.

"You too," he says. You smile a little more and your parents walk over. Your dad puts a hand on your shoulder, and his other hand fell on Lily's.

"Come on you two, lets get home." Lily nods, smiling at Remus.

"I'll see you around, Remus," she says. He nods, smiling at her. Youu turn to your father and walk back with him.

Lily had introduced you to a few of her other friends from school over the summer. Aparently Remus lives in the 'muggle' world. That's what she said at least. But they didn't actually visit eachother. She mainly hung out with Severus. You didn't really like him, but he was Lily's bestfriend.

"Lily! An owl!" You call up the stairs as an owl stops by the kitchen window. You smile at it, and put some food beside it, and take the two envelopes from it's mouth. It eats the food as you turn to Lily who ran in. She smiled and took the letters from your hand.

She looked a little confused and turned the letters over. Her eyes widened and she looked up at you.

"What?" You ask. She hands you one of the envelopes. You see your name on the back of it. Your eyes widened as well, and you and Lily made eye contact. After a minute she grinned and embraced you.

"Ah! You're a witch!" She says. You stood there in shock. Your parents and Petunia run in. Your parents smiled when they realized, but Petunia scowled.

Just another reason why on the train ride to Hogwarts, you sat with Lily and her friends happily. Mary, Marlene, and Alice all welcomed you warmly. Remus and his friends stopped by to all of you. They looked surprised to see you, Remus was the first to smile.

"Hey, Y/N, nice to see you again," he says. You smile back and nod.

"You too," you say. He chuckles slightly, realizing that's what he said to you when you initially met. Sirius pushes past his friend.

"Huh, didn't think we'd be lucky enough to get two Evans girls with us this year," he says. Lily gives him a sharp, disapproving look. You however, were a little amused. James looked down the hall and chuckled.

"Lets go, Sirius. Snivellus is coming," he says, smirking. You were a little confused.

"His name is Severus, Potter," Lily says. You realized who the nickname was for and couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped you. Lily gave you a disapproving look, and you pressed your lips together. Trying to hide your smile. It didn't go very well. The boys all smiled at you.

"I like her," Sirius says. You smiled slightly.

"Yeah, me too," James says. Your smile widened slightly.

You were sorted into Gryffindor that night. Lily was very happy for you. You had friends from all houses, but mainly from your own. And the boys seemed to like you. James plopped himself down next to you.

"Hello," he says, smiling. You don't look up from your paper. You were still working on your essay for transfiguration. Remus sat down on your other side, and Sirius sat down on the floor inbetween you and James. His back was against the couch.

"Oh no, boys, we've lost her," Sirius says.

"She's lost, we'll never get her back," James adds, sighing. You turn your head and glare at the two of them. Their eyes widen, almost with fear. You shifted your gaze back to your paper. You'd procrastinated and needed to get the essay done tonight. Remus leaned forward looking over your shoulder. He chuckles slightly and looks back at his friends.

"We haven't lost her," he says. You glare at him, he still looked amused. You reach over and pushed his face back, and he leans back on the couch. His friends try to stifle their laughs, as you look back at your paper.

"Definitely not," Sirius says. You didn't even look away from your paper this time and just slapped the back of his head.

"I say she needs a break," James says. You flip him off over your shoulder, again not looking. You saw him and Sirius exchange a look out of your peripheral vision.

"Guys, just let her get it done," Remus says, you could hear him rolling his eyes.

"She'll blow up if she stresses any more right now," James says.

"I'll blow up if you keep talking, you twat," you say to him. Him and Sirius exchange a look again. This time they nod. They quickly stand up, going towards the boy's staircase. You sigh, trying to just finish your paper. Remus leans forward.

"Do you want help?" He asks, more gently than before. You glance at him and shake your head.

"I'm fine. I'm almost done anyways." He nods, sitting back. He didn't get up or walk away. He just waited for you to be done. Silently. He even opened a book to read while you worked.

In your second year, you'd basically become the Mauraders adopted sister. At least James and Sirius. They treated you like you were their sister and not Lily's.

They were allowed to start going to Hogsmeade, but you had to wait another year.

Sirius was starting his flirting ways.

James had officially started trying to get your sister to go out with him.

Peter was just following their lead.

And Remus sat back, watching their idiocy unfold. You look at Remus, who was sitting beside you on the couch. You knit your eyebrows together. The other three boys were probably somewhere in the castle causing some kind of mayhem. Remus looked up from his book, feeling you looking at him.

"What?" He asks. You turn on the couch.

"Why aren't you with the others right now?" You ask. He seems a little confused by your question.

"I don't know. I just felt like staying here," he says, shrugging and looking back down at his book.

"Then why aren't you like them?" You ask. He chuckles, looking back up at you.

"What do you mean?" He asks, looking amused.

"Like Sirius and James. They've been trying to set you up all year and you couldn't be less interested. Why is that?" You ask. He seems to think about it again. He shrugs again.

"I don't know. I don't like the girls they think I will, I guess," he says.

"Sure, but you don't even try to find a girl that you will like?" You ask, raising an eyebrow. He closes his book, keeping one finger in it as a book mark. He gives you a questioning look.

"Why are you asking?"

"Answer me, I'll answer you," you say just as quickly as he'd finished. He sighs, leaning further into the couch, getting more comfortable. You raise an eyebrow when he pauses.

"I think we're to young," he says after a second. You could tell he wasn't telling the full truth. Maybe that was part of it, but it definitely wasn't all of it. You knit your brows together, trying to think of his reasoning. You just didn't get it.

So you just turn back to your homework. "Hey, you said you'd tell me," he says. You glance at him.

"Guess I'm just curious," you say. He clearly doesn't believe you. He won't give you a full answer? He won't get one either.

[morizoras-cave]

You need Rest

Tom Hiddleston x Teen!Co-star!Reader

Genre: Angst, fluffy ending

Description: You’re a young actor playing a new role in some of the marvel movies. Dealing with both school and work was an incredible stress on you, and your coworkers realize that when you mention it in an interview.

Warnings: Tiredness, slight depression, overworking oneself, not taking care of oneself

(A/N): we all need a tom in our lives. remember that if you’re overworking yourself, be your own tom! take some time to relax babyyyy

“Y/n, I’m not gonna lie, I’m kind of amazed at your existence,” Jimmy Kimmel confessed and you grimaced at him, making the crowd laugh. You were currently in the middle of an interview with a couple of your co-stars, promoting the newest Marvel movie. “Well, hear me out now, you’re still in school, right?” 

You nodded and the crowd applauded you. Chris Evans patted your shoulder and smiled at him. 

“Well, how do you even make time for that? I mean, you gotta read the script, memorize your lines, act it all out, get into costume, do press, and still deal with school?”

You nodded again in response. The bags under your eyes had never felt more visible. “Yeah, I don’t have a lot of free time honestly. And I don’t sleep a lot. You do what you can, you know?” 

“Do you have homework after this?” Jimmy Kimmel asked, looking at you with intrigue. You felt your heartbeat speed up, as you remembered all your homework. Your english, math, history, social studies.. It was all waiting for you on the other side of the interview. 

“I do,” you breathed a laugh and the audience laughed along, but the co stars that sat next to you on the couch seemed less pleased. Your answer was honest, and there was a certain tiredness behind it. I guess they’d never really realized how much work you had to do.

“Well, isn’t that a lot of stress?” Jimmy proposed and under the heavy eyes of your coworkers, you felt the need to lighten the mood.

“Nah,” you joked, making the audience laugh, “I feel like I have it pretty under control.” Jimmy then moved on from your segment, and you dazed off during the rest of the interview.

_______________________

“Hey Y/n, you wanna go out with us and grab some Popeyes?” Robert asked, putting on his jacket. You were looking at your phone with tired eyes, reading yet another assignment given to you. You wanted to both cry and scream, but instead you just huffed in annoyance.

“Um, I’m sorry, what?” you finally ripped your gaze from the bright screen. 

“Popeyes, you want it?” Robert repeated. Scarlett and Chris were watching you disapprovingly. 

“Uh, no thanks, I have some schoolwork to do,” you gave them all a strained smile. 

“Don’t you still need dinner?” Scarlett mumbled skeptically.

“I’ll grab something later, I just..” for a moment, as you sighed, you almost felt like giving up and crying, and letting all the stress glide away. You bit down on your tongue harshly and continued, “I just have a lot of shit to finish.” 

Your coworkers reluctantly agreed, and soon you were driving back to the hotel. You were already typing on your phone, trying to finish your assignments as soon as possible. 

For some reason, your teachers had been incredibly hard on you. You’d gotten one assignment after another, and you could hardly keep up. You couldn’t remember the last time you slept for more than 3 hours. You couldn’t remember the last time you really relaxed. 

That’s why when you sat on the floor of your hotel room, papers and books scattered in front of you, finished with the math and the history assignments, yet still an impossible amount of work in front of you, you broke down. 

Actually your body broke down. You felt extremely dizzy, so you stood up to grab some water from your fridge. However, as soon as you stood up, you legs felt like nothing, and they stuttered awkwardly before you collapsed to the floor with a thump.

Tom had insisted that the rest of the cast should also buy you some food, and so they bought a chicken sandwich, and drove back to the hotel. He took your food, hoping to see your eyes light up, when you saw the luke-warm-but-hopefully-good-enough food. 

He knocked on the door once and waited. You didn’t answer. He furrowed his brows and knocked once more, this time calling for you, “Y/n?”. He called a few more times, growing increasingly worried. 

Tom, as well as your other coworkers, had never really thought about how stressed you must be. You were always so bright and happy, but it seemed like lately your mood was dulling. The cast had had talks about your mood lately, and it only now clicked that you were probably extremely stressed and pressured to do good.

“Y/n, please open up..” Tom huffed and looked around, spotting a cleaning lady walking down the halls with a cart of bathroom essentials and room supplies. “Hey,” he called and she looked up at him, eyes slightly widening when she realized who he was, “can you get me room key? My friend isn’t responding..”

She nodded and walked over, swiping her card on your door. It clicked and chimed, and Tom thanked the lady, before opening and walking inside. 

For a moment he saw nothing, really. He could see your endless stacks of paper on the floor, multiple books opened and text highlighted. He felt bad, realizing just how hard it must be for you. “Y/n?” he called once more.

He took a few steps into the hotel room and his eyes then immediately landed on you. Unconscious on the floor, previously hidden behind the bed, you lay. Tom’s heart skipped a beat, and he instantly ran to you, rustling you. He feared the worst, tears pricking his eyes. 

You gasped as he shook you, opening your eyes. Your eyes were red and they ached and felt heavy. Everything was blurry, and you couldn’t make out the person in front of you. You just felt them embrace you, hugging you so tight, that they shook.

“Y/n, oh gosh, what happened? Are you okay?” You recognized Tom’s voice and looked at him drowsily. His face was contorted into concern and fear. 

“I-I don’t know. I’m fine. I just was walking over here and then I.. I fell down.” As you confessed how you fell, Tom’s hand found the back of your head, searching it shakily for blood. There was none. 

Looking over Tom’s shoulder, your eyes found your homework. You were so, so tired, but you knew you had to do it all. You couldn’t let this job ruin your grades, so you gently pushed Tom away. He looked at you in confusion.

“Tom, thank you, really, for stopping by, but I gotta get back to this assignment..” you mumbled drowsily. Tom grabbed your wrist, and you looked at him in confusion. 

“No, you are not, Y/n.. You need a break this. This.. This is too much. I mean you collapsed! You need rest..”

“But the-”

“No! No buts. I’m bringing you to bed, and then I’m calling your school and cuss them out for this despicable and insensitive behavior.” Tom said, his voice determined. He reached underneath you and picked you up, before placing you on your bed. It was so very soft.

Your eyes welled up in tears. That was what you needed to hear. That it was okay. That you’d done enough. That your grades didn’t define you and that it was okay to take a break for yourself. You felt so comfortable in your sheets. 

You sniffled, and Tom looked up from his phone, where he was undoubtedly already contacting your school. “Oh, darling, don’t cry. Why are you crying?” 

“No,” you shook your head, Tom taking his hand and placing it on your cheek, “this is a good cry. I.. I really needed to hear that, Tom.” 

Tom smiled gently, kissing your forehead before pulling away. 

“Alright now, you’re going to sleep for as long as you need. I’m calling your school and I’m also calling the heads of Marvel and informing them that you won’t be attending press for the next couple of days. You need some time to just relax. If you get hungry,” Tom, almost magically, pulled out a cold-but-hey-it’s-the-thought-that-counts-chicken sandwich, “I’ll leave this here chicken sandwich by your bed..” 

You giggled and Tom’s heart warmed. It was the first glimpse of the regular you he’d gotten in a while. 

“Thank you, Tom.” 

“Yes, yes, you’re welcome,” Tom walked backwards out of the room. On his way, he scooped up your books and notebooks, barely fitting in his arms and smiled at you sheepishly. “I will be taking these..”

He gave you one last reassuring look, before he rubbed his elbow against the light switch, turning off the hotel’s light, and then closed the door. You wanted to think about Tom’s kind actions, and how happy you were, but you were honestly incredibly tired, and you were out like a light after 2 or so minutes. You ended up sleeping 19 hours, and afterwards you woke up and devoured your chicken sandwich, happier than you’d been in a long time.