#thinking about hurt/comfort especially this morning and *chef's kiss*

[whumpty-dumpty-doo]

God I love whump so much

[booksforevermore13]

it's going to be alright

Summary: After the war, they heal back together. But it's a long time before he sees her scars. Hinny, hurt/comfort

A/N: This was requested by @chef-hagrid a long, long time ago. I'm sorry it's taken so long to write, but I hope you like it :D

...

When the rain stops, then darling, what will I do? And I know I go all in, but why do I? You give me a reason, something to believe in, I know, I know, I know. You give me a meaning, something I can breathe in, I know, I know, I know.

...

When he woke up, Harry found Ginny’s arm over his chest, his head tucked under her. Ginny was asleep, her soft breaths lulling him into a daze. Harry allowed himself to close his eyes before he realised why they were in such a position. The nightmare.

Lately, in the mornings; Harry struggled to recall everything that had happened the previous night. The nightmare. What he had seen. What he had done. The first time it had happened, Ginny had been there to calm him down. Somehow, the prospect of not remembering anything terrified him. It had taken weeks for him to get used to the idea, but he had finally come to a point where he didn’t immediately burst into full blown panic upon waking up.

Harry sighed, then gently eased Ginny into a more comfortable position. Part of him felt guilty that she had had to stay in that position all night, but he gently pulled her up, caressing her hair as her back tensed. 

“Go back to sleep,” he whispered, gently kissing her forehead before pulling up her covers for her. 

Harry smiled as the sunlight fell over her hair, rendering it into a soft shade of red that reminded him of the sun peeking through a million falling autumn leaves. She was beautiful, he thought, his eyes flickering over her body, before they rested on the small cluster of marks peeking through the nape of her shirt.

His eyebrows furrowed as he reached forward, gently nudging her shirt a few centimetres to get a better look at what he hoped would not be what he was thinking. 

And it seemed as if his whole world stopped for a silent moment.

Scars. 

From what Harry could see, they were all over that small part of her back, and he could bet they spread all over her back too.

How had she gotten those? Why….why hadn’t she told him about them? What the hell had happened to her?

Harry collapsed back on the bed, his heart stricken by what he had seen, his mind conjuring up a dozen wild scenarios of Ginny being in pain, or being tortured, and he gulped down his panic, willing the thoughts to go away.

Is that why she had insisted on wearing oversized shirts the entire summer, never opting for anything else? Now that he thought about it, Ginny had never really spoken about that past year, what had happened in Hogwarts, what had happened to her. She had always only told him about the routine searches or the interrogations that the teachers had subjugated them to, and that was it.

How had he been so dense as to not suspect something else? Because he was damn sure those scars had not been there when he’d left.

“You awake?” he heard Ginny’s voice, and he let his hand drop from over his eyes, turning to look at her.  Her eyes shone brilliantly, gazing into his as she smiled. 

Somehow, Harry couldn’t bear to smile back.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, her eyebrows furrowing just slightly and Harry sighed, pulling her into his embrace, as he wrapped his arms around her, the covers haphazardly over them. Ginny smiled into his shoulder, and Harry, once again, couldn’t help but let his eyes flicker over to the place where he had seen her scars. Again, they had been covered, and he shut his eyes, letting his head rest against Ginny’s.

Somehow, he just couldn’t bear to ask.

…

The weeks after the war had been especially hard for the Weasleys. Even Harry, being a mere observer could see that. Every morning, as he got himself up and made his way to the table, it was plain visible that there was an absence. An absence that the Weasleys felt hard.

While George had resorted to making home at his shop, Percy kept him company while also making sure he remained alive. Bill and Charlie had left soon after the second week, helping at Hogwarts, at the bank, at Diagon Alley. So, that left the two youngest Weasleys taking care of the family. And it was clear that they were drowning.

It was after Harry had found Ginny lying motionless on her bed, tears falling from her eyes without sound when he offered they move into 12 Grimmauld Place. The months had passed quickly, very quickly after that. And right now, mid-November, what they had was everything they could have ever asked for. So, there they were now, Harry beating up four eggs for breakfast and Ginny furiously cleaning up the muck that the wind had blown in. Now that she was officially of age, the wand was at her leisure and in no time at all, she was gazing into the hot pan, where the eggs were cooking.

Harry smiled fondly at her, before looking away, chopping the bread up furiously. The incidents of the morning still played in his mind, as his knife thudded on the chopping board.

“You know I’d cook,” Ginny started, “but I’m afraid I could possibly set the house on fire.”

Harry chuckled, dropping the bread into the same pan.

“Kreacher would kill me,” she finished dramatically.

Ginny walked slowly over to where he was standing, and gently placed her hands over his. “That was your cue to tell me what’s wrong, you know,” she said, and Harry looked at her, taking note of the all too knowing look in her eyes.

But before he could say anything else, Ginny reached forward over the counter and turned off the gas, placing a lid over the pan in the process.

“It’s about the scars, isn’t it?” she said, looking away from his eyes.

Harry’s eyes flicked up in shock, and Ginny laughed softly. Her laugh seemed forced, and Harry couldn’t help but notice her sudden change in demeanour.

“I know you saw them this morning, Harry. So, if this is about them, it’s your cue to ask.”

“Why didn’t..,” Harry stopped himself. “What happened, Gin?”

Ginny remained silent, as Harry walked over to her, lifting her chin up until she looked into his eyes, brown to green. 

“Like I said, Harry,” she began, “the past year was not exactly what I expected at Hogwarts.”

“You need to tell me something more than that Gin, please,” Harry begged. “What really happened to you, Gin?”

“They….,” Ginny sighed. “ You know what they did. They tortured us, Harry. They tortured us at every moment they got. It was like a sick sadistic pastime of theirs, because they knew it was the only way they could break us.”

She leaned on the counter, looking up at Harry. “I remember, there was a girl, a Muggleborn. It started with her, I think. Amanda Seyheir, she was called. The Carrows somehow learnt that she was one and they,” her voice broke. “They killed her.”

She closed her eyes, turning her head away from Harry. “I couldn’t save her Harry, and because I couldn’t save her, I had to save the rest of them.”

Harry remained where she was, because it was the way she was speaking that got to him. As if it was something that she had gotten used to saying, something she had become used to seeing.

He stepped forward, but he had no idea what he should have said. 

“The Carrows….once they had no more Muggleborns to torture, they started with us. Neville, Luna…Luna, she escaped, we helped her to, what with everything her father wrote for the Quibbler and all. But the rest of us stayed.”

And Harry understood. What she was leaving out. Why, in those long months, she had never spoken about it. 

“What did they do?” he asked, his voice hoarse. 

“The usual,” she answered flippantly, but Harry could sense the slight tremor in her voice. “The Cruciatus mostly, hexes; they once went through a phase of using something called Serpent - “

“Serpentsortia,” Harry ended, his heart clenching in horror. 

Ginny looked at him, her eyes having a far-away look in them. “Was that the one that Snape…Draco….”

“Yeah,” Harry admitted, his eyes blazing with anger. If he had known, if only. “Can I,” he asked hesitantly, “can I see them?”

Ginny looked away, her eyes blazing with emotion. “They’re not exactly something I’m proud of,” she said darkly, turning away from him.

Harry stepped forward towards her, then let his hands pull Ginny towards him, her back against his chest. Ginny let out a breath, and rested her head on him. As Harry touched her arms, he could feel a slight tremor going through them.

“I love you Gin,” he whispered. “I’ve got you. It’s going to be…,” Harry hesitated. “It’s going to be alright.”

…

False promises may be, but when Ginny entered the room that night, in nothing but a tank top for the first time in a long while, Harry let his eyes caress over her arms, over her scars that started from her neck and went all the way over her back.

Ginny shuddered as his fingers traced over the long jagged scar on her shoulder, the remains of a badly performed splinching hex. 

“Do they hurt?”

“No,” Ginny replied. “It’s been a long while since they’ve hurted.”

She wouldn’t look at him, he noticed. So Harry gently cupped her face as he made her look into his eyes. 

“Gin, those scars,” he said, “they mean you fought a battle you won. You told me that, remember?”

“We,” she said, her voice shaking. “We fought a losing battle for a very long while. You don’t realise Harry, but for eight months we heard nothing. Absolutely nothing. And every single day I woke up thinking it would be the day I heard the news you were dead. We,” her voice broke. “We didn’t think we’d survive.”

Harry’s heart clenched as he watched the woman who had been strong for both of them for so long crumble before his eyes. 

“And the worst part of it was that,” her voice shuddering, “that every day I woke up thinking ‘again? I had to do this all over again? Had the world not had enough?’” She closed her eyes, then whispered. “And that’s why….I’m not proud of this Harry. I’m not.”

It was Harry who closed the dwindling space between them. Because he needed her to know that he loved her. With her scars. She had been strong for so long. He needed her to know that it was his turn now, if she’d let him. 

“I love you as you are,” he said. “Exactly as you are.”

And as her tears started falling, it was Harry who held her close to him, making sure to wipe away the tears now and again.

And that was the way they spent the night, in each other’s arms, fully aware that a part of them were broken, but right now, they knew they could lean on the other to get through the storm.

…

So, as the quiet rustle of the leaves coloured in different shades of gold ceased, the soft white dust started falling on the upper side of them. Just like that, their world seemed to get slower. A little turbulent perhaps, like the icy cold wind that entered their house sometimes as the temperature dipped even lower, but hadn’t it been that way since the beginning?

They needed each other, Harry realised. Though a part of him had known this since the moment he had kissed her in their Common Room.

He still wakes up at night, riddled with nightmares. 

Ginny’s the same, her horrors seeming to engulf her entire purpose at times. 

They still pull each out of the water, keep each other afloat.

But there will be one day, Ginny says to him, when they’ll look at their scars and have a story to tell. It might not be now, but it will be.

He’ll love her forever, he tells her then. Ginny laughs, telling him forever’s longer than what they’ll live for. 

But he doesn’t tell her that what they have is forever for him. So he’ll love her forever as long as he lives, their scars shining brighter every day.

And that’s the way it will always be.

...

[arvinsescape]

Subspace.

A/N: This has been in my drafts for aaaaaggggeees, I actually forgot I’d written it 🤣, another different sort of writing and I hope you all enjoy (Please remember this is a work of fiction)! 💕💕

Summary: The first time Tom realises his girlfriend is stuck in subspace.

Warnings: Mentions of sex (Minors do not engage), talks of a dom! x sub! relationship, swearing, mentions of an injury.

Something is wrong with you and Tom can’t put his finger on it. You’re not yourself and haven’t been since last night. You seem almost out of it, as if you’re here but at the same time not.

“Shit.” You muttered out as you caught your foot on the edge of the couch and fell onto your knees. This is what Tom is talking about, you’re not usually this clumsy but this morning? You’ve had his heart hammering in his chest more times this morning than you have in the last year of dating.

“Darling, are you okay?” Tom asked as he helped you to your feet, a complete look of concern in his eyes.

“Yeah, just lost my footing.” You smiled as you flopped onto the couch. “Think my legs are still recovering.” You huffed out through a laugh.

“Are you sure? You’re a lot clumsier than normal.” Tom was concerned now, it was growing inside his stomach and he couldn’t shift it, he just couldn’t put his finger on what was going on with you.

“Like I say, I think my legs are still a bit shaky from last night.” You shrugged as you trained your eyes onto the TV.

You’d had an intense session last night, you’d had multiple orgasms and both of you had had earth shattering ones to finish off, the kind that knocked him out almost completely, how tired he was washing over him in an instant. It had been one of your more intense sessions in fourteen month relationship, although you had a dom, sub relationship it was never too out there. Orgasm denials, multiple orgasms, light choking, him tying you up were as far as you’d ventured so far.

**

Tom only grew more concerned as the day went on, especially when he walked through to the living room at 1pm and found you still on the couch. You were in the same position he’d left you in almost two hours ago.

“Darling,” Tom asked and you mindlessly hummed in response. “You’re meeting your friend in twenty minutes.” He pointed out and he watched as you picked your phone up and checked the time, panicking as you saw it.

“Shit, shit, shit. Lost track of time.” You said as you shot past him and upstairs. Of course Tom understood that anyone could lose track of time, it just happened. But you? No, you were the most organised and punctual person he knew, if you said you would be somewhere, you’d turn up ten minutes early, you didn’t do late.

You quickly rushed out a ‘love you’ with a quick kiss to his cheek as you practically ran out of the door. Tom found himself thanking the Gods that you weren’t driving with how you’d been this morning.

**

You came back a few hours later, rushing into the living room and practically throwing yourself at him. You were cold from the winter air and it made Tom shiver slightly at the sudden temperature change he was experiencing.

“You okay?” He asked as his hand came to the back of your head, your face stuffed into his chest.

“I missed you.” You sniffled and Tom was taken aback, this was normal when he’d spent weeks away from you, but hours? You were a pretty independent person, although you and Tom were extremely close, you were by no means completely attached at the hip.

“I missed you too.” Tom comforted as he squeezed you, you pulled yourself closer, making him shift so you could straddle him. Clinging to him as if he’d disappear, although you were a cuddly person by nature you were usually happy just cuddled into his side as you watched TV. 

“You did?” You asked as you pulled back to look at him, excitement in your eyes, almost like a child. Tom furrowed his brows, this was unusual, like he says, you’re an independent person, you were acting like you needed him to say it, needed him to reassure you.

Of course, there had been times where you had needed that from him, when the media or the fans had been pretty hard on you but as far as he was aware that wasn’t the case right now.

“Of course I did.” Tom reassured as he ran his thumb over your cheek and you leant into the minor touch, making Tom take your face in his hand. You seemed to be craving his touch, it seemed to be something you needed he observed over the next hour.

You stayed in his lap, whining when he stopped running his hand over your back or through your hair. Nuzzling so far into him that he was sure you were trying to get inside him, when he got up to go into the kitchen you’d trail behind him like a lost puppy. All of your behaviours making Tom grow more and more concerned over you.

In the last few hours you’d seemingly lost coordination of your body, lost track of time and now you were almost emotionally and physically needy. Not that Tom would ever call you needy, or mean it in a bad way, he just didn’t know how else to describe how you were being.

**

The last straw came when you were making a brew for the two of you, after spending all day seemingly trying to make him happy, needing confirmation from him that your actions were indeed making him so.

“Did I put enough milk in your tea?”

“Yeah,” Tom furrowed his brows, “why?”

“I can make you another if not.” You panicked.

*

“Did I get the right one?” You asked as you brought a blanket down from the bedroom.

“I never specified which one I wanted.” Tom laughed and watched a panicked look escape you.

“Well when you said a blanket you must have had one in mind, I can go and get it.”

“Darling, calm down.” Tom said with furrowed brows as he forced you to sit with him and trying to stop your panic.

“I just want to make sure you’re happy. That I’m not misbehaving.” You said through a panicked voice and Tom’s concern hit a level he wasn’t sure was possible. Misbehaving? You weren’t a child, you weren’t his pet.

“Baby, you do make me happy.” Tom said. “What’s going on with you? What do you mean misbehaving?” Tom asked and he watched as you shrugged.

“I just want to make sure I’m being good.” You shrugged as you settled back down.

*

Tom watched as you filled the cup in your hand, the water rising and before Tom could stop it happening, it happened. The water overflowed and poured out onto your hand, you hissed in pain as you pulled it from the cup, putting the kettle down as you did.

“Fuck darling.” Tom panicked as he instantly grasped your arm and shoved your hand under the cold tap.

“That hurt a bit.” You said and Tom’s eyebrows shot up.

“A bit? Y/N/N, you’ve just practically scolded yourself.” Tom panicked as he continued to keep your hand under the cold tap. “Where were you?” He couldn’t stop himself from asking.

“I don’t know, I feel a bit,” you paused as you thought of the word. “Floaty,” you settled on.

“Floaty?” 

“Yeah, I feel like I keep drifting off today. I’m sorry, have I upset you?” You suddenly asked, eyes finding his.

“Upset? What? Darling, what is going on?” Tom asked as he placed both his hands on your face. You’d just burnt yourself and you seemed more concerned about whether he was upset than your burnt hand.

“I don’t know.” You admitted as tears sprung to your eyes.

“Oh sweetheart.” Tom said as he pulled you into his chest, making sure your hand stayed under the tap. He held for a few minutes, placing kisses into your hairline as your silent tears wet his t shirt. He pulled back after a while, pulling your hand from under the tap to examine it, he was relieved to see no blisters, that you were extremely fucking lucky and had avoided a trip to A & E.

Your hand was still red raw and had a heat to it so Tom grabbed a tea towel and drenched it in cold water, wrapping it around your hand.

“Tommy, I’m tired.” You said almost childlike, almost as you do when you’re in a drunken state. “I’m really tired.” You said again.

“Okay, I’m gonna go and grab some burn cream and then I’ll put you to bed, okay?” He reassured as he led you upstairs and into the bathroom. Once in there he quickly applied the cream to your hand, he was thankful Sam had talked him into buying some, the chef in him reminding the family how bad burns could be. Once he’d dressed you, he helped you get into bed, pulling the covers over you.

“Wait, where are you going?” You asked as Tom was about to leave the room. “You’re not staying?” You asked in a small voice. Your behaviour had certainly taken a turn over the day.

“I can if you want me to?” He said and he watched you frantically nod your head. He cuddled you until you fell asleep and then carefully removed himself from the bed, careful in his every move not to wake you.

It wasn’t long before he was dialling his best friends number and asking him to come over.

“What’s up?” Harrison asked he plopped down on the couch next to Tom.

“Y/N/N.” Tom sighed and Harrisons brows shot up in concern.

“Has something happened? Is she okay?” 

“I don’t know.” Tom huffed out as he ran a hand through his hair. “She’s not been herself today and I don’t know what to do.” Tom admitted.

“How’d you mean?”

“Well for starters she spent most of this morning tripping over things. She lost track of time earlier on today, you know her, she doesn’t do that.” Tom sighed and Harrison shrugged.

“Maybe she genuinely did, we can’t all be perfect.” Haz laughed and Tom looked at him seriously.

“Haz, she’s been, needy. Like I’m not saying it’s a bad thing, just out of character. She told me she didn’t want to ‘misbehave.’” Tom said and Haz furrowed his brows in thought.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.” Tom shrugged.

“Are you guys like, you know.” Harrison started nervously before collecting himself with a deep breath. “Do you have a dom, sub dynamic?” He asked and Tom furrowed his brows for what felt that the millionth time that day.

“Yeah.” Tom answered carefully.

“And is she the sub?” He asked.

“Harrison.” Tom warned, he wasn’t one to discuss the ins and outs of his sex life with other people, he saw it as a private thing between two people.

“Just,” Haz sighed. “Hear me out, please. Is she?”

“Yeah.” Tom answered again, carefully.

“Have you had a session recently?” He asked again and Tom nodded in response, he was lost, what the fuck did this have to do with anything? “When you engage in your dom side, do you, you know, like ‘punish’ her for misbehaving?”

“Harrison, what the fuck has this got to do with-” Tom cut himself off as realisation dawned on him. You’d been a brat yesterday and he’d acted accordingly.

“It’s called subspace mate.” Harrison said.

“But this has never happened before? Why would it happen now?”

“It doesn’t always happen, sometimes it just takes her hormones being out of balance. Maybe she slipped into it and you never fully coaxed her back, would explain why she’s stuck in a sub mentality.” Haz shrugged.

“But I’ve done everything we normally do in aftercare, I’ve looked after her, reassured her.” Tom reeled off.

“Maybe she’s looking for her dominating partner to bring her back?” Haz suggested. “Try being more forceful.”

“I don’t wanna push her Haz, she fucking burnt herself earlier, completely on another planet when she made a brew.” 

“Maybe you have been doing without realising it.”

“What?”

“Kept her in subspace, you’ve coddled her. Made her feel safe, taken care of. Look, I don’t know Tom, every woman is different but it sounds like based on her behaviour, that you have pulled her further under without meaning to.” 

“Okay, thanks Haz.” Tom said. They enjoyed a good hour or so together, catching up before Tom’s phone pinged with a message from you asking where he was. Tom sighed as he read it.

“Try being a little firmer with her.” Harrison suggested and Tom nodded as he said goodbye to his friend. “Don’t beat yourself up, these things take trial and error and as long as you are both safe, happy and learning it’ll be okay.” Harrison reassured as he placed a comforting hand on his friends shoulder before heading out.

Tom collected himself as he made his way back into your shared bedroom. Your eyes instantly finding his as you flew out of the bed and into his arms, he took a deep breath before his next move. Clearly he needed to change tactic, he just wasn’t sure which one you needed.

“Y/N,” he said as he pulled you back, holding you at arms length as he looked you deeply in the eye. “I need you to come back.” He said and he watched as you furrowed your brows.

“What do you mean? I’m here?”

“You’re not, not properly.” Tom said a little firmly. “You’re still in that floaty place, as you called it.”

“No, Tom.” You laughed. “I feel floaty, I didn’t go anywhere.” You giggled.

“You did and now I need you to come back.” He tried again.

“Tom, you’re being silly.” You laughed again, “I’m right in front of you.” You said, “see you’re touching me.” You continued as you gestured to his hands on your shoulders. Tom didn’t miss your tone, your bratty tone, he changed tactic, eyebrow raising in challenge.

“What did you just call me?” Tom asked, voice demanding, the same tone he used when he was ‘punishing’ you in bed. He watched as you smirked.

“I called you silly.” You challenged and Tom hummed as he backed you into the wall.

“Are you being a brat princess? Are you sure that’s what you want to go with right now? You’re making it sound like you want me to punish you.” He said, lips close to yours as his breath fanned your face, your breath hitching as you shook your head.

“No, I’m sorry, I don’t want to misbehave anymore.” You said and Tom looked you directly in the eyes.

“Then I want you to come back.” He spoke, voice laced in a tone that had told you to ‘get on the bed’, ‘cum for me.’ He watched as an understanding flashed across your eyes and Tom continued. “Come on princess, I need you to come back. I need my Y/N.” He whispered as he captured your lips in his own. “It would make me happy if you did.” He finished.

He watched as your eyes became less vacant, slowly coming back as he coaxed you out with well placed kisses and demands. It wasn’t long before your hand wound into his hair and Tom sighed in relief as his head found your neck.

“That was fucking weird.” You snorted, voice completely your own. 

“That’s never happened before.” Tom said as he pulled back to look at you.

“It was so strange, it’s like I needed you to be the opposite of how you are during aftercare. I just kind of stayed in subspace last night.” You rambled.

“You knew you were in subspace?”

“Well yeah, you’ve done it before but you always coaxed me out of it.” You admitted and Tom looked confused.

“What happened last night? Why didn’t it work?” Tom panicked, had he missed something? 

“Don’t know.” You shrugged. “I suppose you fell asleep quicker than usual and I had one of the best orgasms I think I’ve ever had.” You said and you took in the look on Tom’s face. “Hey, don’t beat yourself up, it happens.”

“But I missed it.”

“Yeah but you still kept me safe. That’s what this is about right? Having fun and being safe. Tom you make me feel so safe, how do you think I end up in subspace sometimes, it’s a different kind of pleasure. As a sub I make myself completely vulnerable to you and you make me feel so safe and wanted and the level of trust I have in you is off the charts and sometimes it just happens, sometimes I drift off.”

“Maybe we pushed it too far.” Tom said as he took your hand in his, placed a kiss to the back of your injured hand. “I couldn’t protect you from this.”

“Tom,” you sighed. “The burn was a mistake, you can’t protect me from everything. If you’re worried I regret what we did last night because of this then don’t be. I don’t regret anything we’ve tried and I trust you, okay? Remember that one time I used the safe word and you stopped immediately and took care of me?” You asked and Tom nodded.

“This is something that does take an element of trial and error, getting fully used to everything that can happen. You took care of me, you brought me back, Tom I trust you completely with me.” You continued. “I’ve never given myself over to someone the way I have you and I’m glad, I’m glad I get to experience these things with you and I wouldn’t change it or you for the world.”

“I promise I won’t miss it next time.” Tom reassured and you smiled as you kissed him.

“I don’t doubt that for a second.”

[fruitcoops]

could you possibly write something about Sirius & remus dating and remus feeling bad that Sirius keeps paying (since obviously he's big deal NHLer v trainer)

Oof, yes. This was combined with asks for some Coops hurt/comfort where one doesn't want to talk, as well as an argument. SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for wealth insecurity, small argument (not a blowout)

Grocery shopping had never been Remus’ favorite thing in the world, but he had to admit it was a lot more fun when everything came with the thrilling reminder that he was living with the love of his life. He got to learn Sirius’ preferences on everything from candles (softer scents, or something woodsy) to towels (as fluffy as humanly possible) and filed every detail away in the little pocket of his brain entirely dedicated to the beautiful man that could reach the top shelves.

“What’s next?” he asked an hour into their latest Target excursion.

Sirius tilted his phone to show the screen. “Sheets.”

“I still can’t believe you had a hole in those and didn’t notice,” Remus said with a shake of his head.

“How do you know it wasn’t your fault?” Sirius countered with a playful quirk of his eyebrow.

“I’m not the one that runs marathons in my sleep,” Remus laughed, standing on his toes to kiss his stubbly cheek. “Oof. Prickly.”

Sirius scrunched his nose. “You like it.”

“Hmm. Perhaps.”

“Perhaps,” he mimicked, bumping Remus’ hip with his own. “What kind do you want?”

Remus shrugged one shoulder as they turned down the next aisle, scanning the shelves of plastic-wrapped packages in a million different patterns. “I like the look of the white ones, but grey or blue could be nice. You?”

“As long as they’re soft and have you in them, I don’t care.”

“Sap,” he teased, though he was unable to fight the blush racing hot up his neck. Sirius didn’t protest; his small, smug smile needed no explanation. Remus pushed the cart slowly down the aisle, making note of the price tags as he went. Sheets were always an expense—not as bad as blankets or, god forbid, a new mattress, but an expense all the same. He had managed to keep his last ones in good condition for almost ten years before they wore out.

The $30 set doesn’t look too bad, but that’s a weird color…Sirius hates microfiber…I’d rather not sleep on puppy print…getting laid on a 1970s paisley pattern would kill me instantly… “How about these?”

He startled and glanced down the aisle, where Sirius was holding a set in faint gray. An unbidden grin pulled at the side of his mouth. “The softest of the bunch, huh?”

“Of course,” Sirius laughed. “Come feel, it’s like heaven.”

Remus pushed off and hopped up on the undercarriage, riding the cart all the way until he reached Sirius’ side; his hand was halfway to the exposed block of fabric when he froze. $186.99, read the price tag below the stack of sheets in varying colors. Almost $200, and the only difference was the softness. “I…” he faltered slightly, looking between Sirius and the sheets for a moment.

“Do you not like them?”

“No, I do,” Remus said as his mind whirred. He had never spent more than a hundred dollars on sheets before. It wasn’t wildly out his budget, especially once he started working with the Lions, but he had always been careful with money. Sirius…Sirius had never had to do that. Never in his life.

“Is it the color? Because they have white ones—”

“It’s 200 dollars,” he almost laughed. Sirius fell quiet in obvious confusion as Remus turned to look at him. “Sirius, those sheets are 200 dollars.”

“Yes?”

“There’s—” Remus broke off again; something a little too much like shame for his liking crawled up his throat. “I—sure, yeah, if you like them.”

“It’s not about what Ilike,” Sirius continued, as if he couldn’t see the discomfort tensing every one of Remus’ muscles. “It’s our bed. I don’t want to get sheets you hate.”

“No, no, they’re nice.” Too nice. Remus forced a smile. “I like them.”

Sirius looked at him for a moment. “Which ones do you prefer?”

The ones that don’t cost the same as my monthly food budget. “Uh, the color threw me off at first,” he said. “The blue ones are better.”

The crease between Sirius’ brows eased by a degree and he kissed Remus’ jaw gently, then switched the sets. “D’accord, mon loup. Whatever makes you happy.”

Remus was as quiet as he could be without arousing suspicion for the rest of the trip. Sirius paid for their things—like always, Remus realized with a turn of his stomach—and helped him carry the bags to the car without another word about the sheets.

He stayed quiet the whole way home.

The shame mounted as they drove. It seemed everything was a sudden, unwelcome reminder of just how different he and Sirius were. Sirius’ family had a chef during his childhood—Remus made himself PB&Js every morning for the entirety of middle school. Sirius had a brand-new car—Remus had never had cause to justify that over public transportation and Uber. It was embarrassing, and Sirius’ unintentional thoughtlessness was more frustrating than he thought it would be.

He didn’t say anything as they pulled up to the house and unloaded their shopping bags; his shirt and jeans itched his skin like sandpaper. Judging from the look on Sirius’ face, he had picked up on Remus’ frustration, but there was no way Remus was going to get into the root of it while he still felt so twitchy.

Damn you and your emotional intelligence, he thought as he slipped past Sirius’ worried glances and up the stairs to their bedroom. Be oblivious for once and let me get through this.

The bed was stripped bare—their duvet and pillows sat in a heap on top of the mattress. Remus thought back to the first night he had slept there, marveling at the cloudlike support on his achy lower back. He had chalked it up to the pure bliss that came with finally having what he really wanted, but his traitorous brain was starting to convince him it wasn’t the joy that made it seem so nice.

He had never gone without food. His parents always made sure he had clothes that mostly fit and the school supplies he needed. They paid for his hockey gear and the team dues until he was old enough to work part-time and start saving his own money; scholarships had always been of a quiet importance in their house. Things got tighter when Jules was born, but they made it work. Remus would always be grateful for that.

Sirius had never had to think about money in that way. Not once.

Remus sighed through his nose as he pulled his battered Wisconsin hoodie over his head and tightened the drawstring of his sweats, letting the comfort envelop him. “It’s not his fault,” he murmured into the mirror. “Don’t get into your head about this.”

Sirius was in the living room when Remus made his way down the stairs with his hands curled into the worn sleeves of the hoodie. He said nothing while Remus began absently cleaning up the scattered items around their junk bowl, though his gaze prickled the back of his neck.

“Mon loup?” came the soft question after two minutes of tense silence.

“Yeah?” he managed around the tightness in his lungs.

He could practically taste Sirius’ hesitation. “Did I—nevermind. Sorry.”

“What?”

“It’s nothing,” Sirius said again, though he seemed to be folding in on himself. Remus hated seeing him try and take up less space, and hated the idea that he was the one that caused it.

$200. On sheets.

“What’s going on?” Remus asked, leaning back against the countertop.

“No, I just—” Sirius pasted on a smile and cross the room, dropping a tentative kiss to the top of his head as he passed despite the wary look in his eyes. “Just a thought. It’s nothing.”

“You’re upset.”

“No, no, I’m good.”

“Please don’t lie to me.” It came out harsher than intended and Remus winced. “I mean—Sirius, something is obviously bothering you.”

He chewed the inside of his lip for a moment, rubbing his thumbs in small circles over the marble countertop before making brief eye contact. “You’re angry,” he said at last, cautiously. “Are you angry with me?”

“No,” Remus said, then paused. Sirius’ face fell. “Well, I’m a little irritated, but—but it’s stupid, and I shouldn’t be.”

“It’s not stupid.”

Remus swallowed hard at the kicked-puppy look on Sirius’ face. “It is.”

“I’m sorry,” Sirius said.

And that was…honestly, kind of the worst thing he could say. “You don’t get it,” Remus said, staring at the floor. “Sirius, you just spent 200 dollars on sheets.”

If anything, that seemed to upset him more. “You said you liked them.”

“I—” Remus flailed his hand around. “I do! But Jesus, honey, that’s kind of a lot!”

“We both liked the sheets.”

“I don’t know how to tell you that that’s expensive!” he blurted as the words wormed their way out and hung in the air. “Two hundred dollars might be peanuts to you, but that used to be my food budget for the month!”

“Remus—”

“You have never had to budget a day in your life,” he said, quieter. “Your watch probably cost more than a month’s rent for my apartment, you’ve never taken public transportation—”

“Remus—”

“—and you make millions of dollars every year!” He paused, out of breath, and ran a hand through his hair in disbelief. “Millions, Sirius. And—and now that we’re together, that we’re living together, it’s just really apparent in a way that it wasn’t before.”

Sirius’ throat bobbed. “I wish you had told me at the store.”

“It’s not about the sheets,” Remus laughed, because there was nothing else he could do other than cry. “We have entirely different views of how much money is worth. You can pay for things for me and I can’t do the same for you, and that feels like shit.”

An unsettling quiet blanketed the whole first floor as Sirius stayed very, very still, like a small animal caught in a trap. “I don’t know what you want me to say,” he confessed, barely above a whisper. “You’re right. Money is…it’s not something I’ve had to think about, but I like spending it on you.”

“I don’t like being cared for,” Remus forced out around the grate that had been keeping it down. “I don’t like feeling like I can’t support myself, or that I’m a burden on you and especially that I can’t repay that.”

Sirius finally met his eyes, and he looked appalled. “Remus, you’re never a burden.”

“It feels like it.” He was horrified to feel the burn of tears in his eyes. “Sometimes. When—when you buy nice things for me, or we go on nice vacations, or even when you buy groceries for us for the fifth time in a row, it feels like I’m using you for your money.”

“But you’re not.”

“No!” Remus said immediately. “God, no, never. That’s the last thing I want. But I don’t want you to have to change your lifestyle to make it revolve around me, either. I feel like I’m caught in the middle and there’s no good answer.”

Sirius watched him for a moment, the way that always made Remus feel a little bit like a particularly intricate play he was trying to work out. “What did you want to say at the store?”

“I—what?”

“What did you want to say while we were getting the sheets?”

Remus bit his lip in thought. “Those are too expensive, and I think we should get different ones,” he said eventually. “I like the color and the fabric, but I don’t want to spend that much money on sheets when we could do something else with it.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t ask sooner.” The earnest look on Sirius’ face eased some of the bubbling feelings in his chest. “And I’m sorry you didn’t feel like you could tell me.”

“I was embarrassed.”

“…why?”

“Because it’s embarrassing to look at your multi-millionaire boyfriend and say, ‘I can’t afford $200 sheets’, Sirius. It sucks. I feel like I can’t measure up.”

Sirius nodded. “I’ve never judged you for your money, not once. Just for the record. There’s nothing I would rather spend it on than making you happy.”

“I don’t want to be sheltered and provided for.” Remus blinked back the last of the tears and closed his eyes. “I want us to be equals. That’s important to me.”

“Okay.”

“And I don’t know how to fix this right away.”

“I don’t, either.” Warm fingers brushed the back of his hand and he leaned into Sirius without looking. “Can we try and figure it out, though? As a team?”

“Yes, captain,” he snorted, feeling Sirius’ soft huff on the top of his head. They stood silently for a few seconds before Remus let go of his tension with a slow exhale. “I don’t think a joint bank account is a good idea yet, but maybe we can start by alternating who buys groceries? Or something small like that. I don’t want to feel like this anymore, not with you. I love you too much.”

Sirius nuzzled into his hair for a moment before lips pressed against his temple. “How about we start by making the bed?”

The pressure on Remus’ chest eased. Making the bed was easy. They had the exact same method for it, a function of Sirius growing up with a militant mother and Remus’ aunts lovingly terrorizing him into learning how to do hospital corners. It was an olive branch that he could happily accept with a light squeeze around Sirius’ waist. Baby steps, he thought. We’ll deal with the big stuff when we’re better settled. He offered a half-smile to Sirius. “What are we waiting for?”

[karls-writing-space]

Yo! If it's not too much trouble, can I have Coffee and/or roseship tea from that lil' tea thingie you had reposted a bit ago with C!Tommy and C!Technoblade? They're my favorites and kinda comfort characters so I'd love to see you write for em 👉👈 [-DreamerAnon 👀]

Ayyyy! Hey, DreamerAnon!

Ofc you can have C!Tommy and C!Techno for that tea thing! (We share two comfort characters!)

Coming right up, mate!

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Tea Asks -

Coffee and Rosehip Tea for C!Tommy and C!Technoblade

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Tommy

Coffee - Do they get jealous easily? How do they show it?

Tommy does tend to get jealous quite easily, to be honest.

He tries not to let it show, though. Big Man over here doesn't want others - especially his S/O - to know that he gets jealous.

Honestly, he masks his jealousy pretty well. Tommy over here is pretty good at acting like he's not jealous in front of others.

He wouldn't really get jealous if you hung out with his friends every now and then. He trusts them, and he trusts you. So, it's kind of a win-win situation.

If you were hanging out with his friends more than him, or if you're hanging out with people he doesn't like, Tommy begins to get jealous.

He tries his best not to let others around him see him get jealous, but sometimes he can't help it.

When he has enough, he walks over to where his partner is and wraps an arm around their shoulders or torso. He would press a few kisses onto their face. He does show his partner random acts of affection in both public and private, so it wouldn't be all that noticeable if he was jealous.

The time his S/O would find out Tommy was jealous was when he tells them, which would be in the privacy of their homes,

Cue his S/O teasing Tommy and him getting all flustered and telling them to shut up [with no ill intent].

Rosehip Tea - How romantic are they? How do they show affection?

I view C!Tommy as a bit of a romantic guy. He definitely has had thoughts of meeting someone, going on dates, and the two showing affection toward one another.

He would be a physically affectionate person. He loves holding his S/O's hand out in public. He can be seen with an arm around his S/O's shoulders when he's sitting with them and their group of friends.

Tommy can be a little clingy when it comes to his lover, and he really hopes that they don't mind that.

Early-Morning cuddles are very much a thing. Tommy will tangle his arms and legs with his S/O's when they cuddle. Sleepy "Good morning, love"s and "I love you"s also occur during this time.

He and his S/O aren't going to be getting out of bed for a while.

That is unless they needed to get up for something.

If he's out somewhere in the morning, he writes little notes telling his S/O where he's at and then tells them that he loves them.

He likes playing/messing around with his significant other. Expect him to playfully roughhouse with his S/O at random times. He will be careful not to hurt them, and if he does, he will apologize.

Tommy tries all sorts of pick-up lines on his S/O. They're either rather cheesy, or really sweet.

"___, do you have a map?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"Because I just got lost in your eyes."

He loves to go on little adventures with his S/O. The two of you could be searching around caves and cliffs for a while, and then end the day sitting on a mountain stargazing and enjoying each other's company.

This guy tries to have candlelit dinners with his S/O whenever he can, but it either ends up with him almost burning the food or he forgets about the dinner date he had in mind.

When a dinner date does go as planned and doesn't get messed up, he plays Melohi in the background.

"It's for romance." He says as he leads his S/O to his dining room to eat.

He knows how to make basic meals - like Steak with vegetables at the side. He isn't a master-chef, but hey, at least he knows how to cook.

These dinner dates include him and his S/O joking around, complimenting one another, and of course, telling each other how much they love the other. He has this soft little loving smile on his face.

"I love you to the moon and back, ___. You're the best thing that's happened to me. Y'know that?"

"You... You complete me."

Hearing his S/O say that he loves him back, or compliments him makes Tommy smile grow as he blushes.

He loves having these moments with his S/O. It reminds him that he has someone who will love him unconditionally.

Technoblade

Coffee - Do they get jealous easily? How do they show it?

Like Tommy, it entirely depends on who his S/O hanging around.

If they're hanging out with Philza or Ranboo, he wouldn't feel jealous at all. He's quite happy that they're having fun with his friends. He'd also be quite relieved that they weren't hanging around people he thinks could hurt them, or that are his enemies.

On the other hand, if his lover is hanging around with other people that isn't Ranboo or Philza, he does get quite jealous.

When he's jealous, Techno won't say anything and will be a little annoyed. As time goes on, and they continue to hang around those other people, he will become more clingy and will want them to be around him more.

Technoblade will make up excuses to pull his lover away from those other people, and have them hang out with him for the remainder of the day. (with possible company from Phil and Ranboo.)

Would he admit that he was jealous?

Haha... no.

No, this will go to the grave with him.

Or, at least until his S/O figures out he was jealous and call him out for it. If they do point out he was jealous, he would deny it the first few times before giving in and admitting that he was indeed jealous. Piglin man would be blushing quite a bit as he admits it.

Rosehip Tea - How romantic are they? How do they show affection?

THE BLADEEEE

Techno isn't the most romantic person, to be honest.

He never really got time to settle down or really think about having a S/O.

That was until he met his S/O.

Then he tried to think of more romantic things to do with them that wasn't sparring.

He likes to cuddle his S/O while they read, or when he reads to them. The feeling of them in his arms is comforting to him.

He would read them stories about Greek mythology, or maybe would even read them The Art Of War. Probably would even leave his own comments on certain parts of the books he reads to his S/O - opinions, facts - anything he feels like adding.

Techno isn't very fond of PDA. He doesn't want his enemies to see him act as "weak", or to be an open spot for them to attack him or his S/O. He prefers to show affection in the privacy and safety of his or his lover's homes.

Very careful when cuddling his S/O. He doesn't want to accidentally crush them in his arms. His hugs are rather loose, but he still holds his lover close to his body.

His S/O is probably going to have to try and tell him that it's alright to give them tighter hugs.

Once he gets more comfortable with hugging his S/O, Technoblade will love having his lover in his arms. he thinks that they fit perfectly in them.

That and this guy is touch-starved as hell.

If he and his S/O share a bed, he would hold them while they sleep. He's really warm, and it feels nice to sleep close to him at night. He also holds them at night to convince himself that they're safe in his arms.

Hey, S/O! PLEASE play with his hair. Run your hands through it, ruffle it, style it - anything!

Techno will turn into a pile of mush because of this and will lean into his partner's touch. He loves the feeling of their fingers in his hair. It's very calming to him.

He won't take out the hairstyle they put in his hair until the end of the day. He loves any and all styles his S/O makes and will wear them with pride.

He tells his lover that he loves them as much as he can, and will complement and/or praise them when they do something that impresses him, or what he loves about them.

"Your smile is precious. Please smile some more."

"You brought home that many potatoes? That's... wow. I'm proud of you, ___"

"I love you, ___. I.... I can't believe that you're mine."

He will let his S/O wear his cape and crown! He thinks that they look great in his clothes, in general.

[mrsmctominay]

NSFW Alphabet for Jude Bellingham please?

NSFW Alphabet - Jude Bellingham

A = Aftercare

He presses lots of gentle kisses all over your body as you come down from your high before making sure you're okay and getting you a glass of water.

B = Body part

He loves your thighs and belly, he's always touching them or looking at them and constantly telling you how much he loves them because he knows you're slightly insecure about them.

C = Cum

He cums pretty quickly, but he can go for loads of rounds which is pretty good for you. He likes to cum deep inside of you, especially if you're about to go for a day out. He'd cum inside you and then say 'I want you to walk about with my cum in there all day like a good girl. Okay princess?'.

D = Dirty Secret

He secretly wants to be woken up with head, but would never actually tell you this. The thought of you in front of him with your mouth around his cock being the first thing he sees in the morning makes him so incredibly horny.

E = Experience

Since he's still young, he's not overly experienced but he definitely knows how to make you feel good. You're the only person he's slept with, but you've done it together many many times so he knows his way around your body pretty well.

F = Favourite Position

Anything where your face down, ass up. He likes having full access to your hair so that he can grip onto it, almost using it as support to keep himself steady. He loves the sound of your skin slapping against each other, he says it means 'he's fucking you good'.

G = Goofy

He doesn't fuck about in the bedroom (pun intended). Straight to the point. He's more filled with lust than anything so he doesn't like to goof around too much.

H = Hair

He's moderately groomed. Not fully shaved because he thinks it looks weird but a little grooming never hurt anybody.

I = Intimacy

He likes to take his time with you, specifically during foreplay. He takes time to explore your entire body before entering you, making sure that you're totally comfortable and relaxed.

J = Jack Off

If you're not there to give him the real thing then he doesn't mind facetiming you for you to put on a little show for him so he can... help himself.

K = Kink

He's really into gentle biting. He grabs the skin of your shoulder or neck in between his teeth when he fucks you from behind. Another would be hickeys, he loves seeing the little purple love marks that he scatters around your body the night after.

L = Location

He enjoys privacy, so the bedroom is his favourite place. He feels he can be as rough or as gentle as he wants when he knows that no one could possibly see.

M = Motivation

Seeing you in his shirt or hoodie. He absolutely LOVES it. Especially if it's a football top. The way his name looks across your back is just *chefs kiss*

N = NO

Threesome’s. He wants you all to himself, and vice versa.

I don't think much more needs to be said on this one...

O = Oral

He prefers receiving which is a bit annoying for you sometimes but when you’re on the receiving end he knows what he needs to do to get you off.

P = Pace

It just depends on his mood and what’s happened in the day ect but he’s usually quite romantic. If he's having a bad day, he likes to punish you, maybe teasing you a little more than usual. On a good day however, you're in control of the speed.

Q = Quickie

He hates them. If it can’t go for more than one round he doesn’t want it. But obviously he’ll take what he can get so if he has to then... They are nothing compared to actual sex.

R = Risk

He kind of just sticks to what he knows. He would rather do something he already knows how to do rather than try something new and potentially hurt you.

S = Stamina

Forever and ever and ever. That boy never stops. Fair enough the rounds are short but phew. You always need to prepare yourself beforehand, making sure you've had enough to eat and drink before going into the however many rounds of sex there is ahead of you.

T = Toy

Nope. If he’s by himself then his hand will do and if he’s with you then he’s the only toy you want (😉)

U = Unfair

If you'd annoyed him, he'd tease you a bit more than usual. Brushing his fingers lightly over your pussy through your underwear and then eventually tapping your clit with his dick which makes you whine.

V = Volume

He’s fairly vocal. He has no shame in moaning for you, he'd rather let you know that you're doing a good job rather than leave you wondering.

W = Wild Card

He gets off on the fact that he’s the only person you’ve fucked. He’s the only one that’s seen your pussy and your pretty sex face. He's the only one that knows what your taste like, and how your pussy feels. He's the only one that's been able to enjoy your oral skills.

X = X-Ray

Nothing too dramatic, an average size. Enough for you to orgasm each time. His size instantly made you feel comfortable from the start of your relationship.

Y = Yearning

Fairly high, but every 18 year old is the same right? Realistically, he could go whenever you want to. It doesn't take much for him to get it up.

Z = ZZZ

He makes sure you’re okay and sleeping before he dozes off. You’re his number one priority.

[lieutenant-simp]

Felt You When I Needed It Most

F!Reader x Wanda Maximoff

Warning: Attempted bank robbery? I guess like also guns and knifes, mentions of blood. FLUFF AT END I PROMISE.

Summary: Whenever someone touches your soulmate you also feel it on your own skin.

Not my Gif

A/N: I still would like some requests please :) I am an absolute sucker for tropes and clichés. Soulmate AUs absolute *chefs kiss* Also this was not proofread.

Words: 1,547

Since you were young, you’ve never had the best track record with injuries and pain. It was awful at first, but as the years went on you had to get used to it. The pleasant experiences all your friends had with their soulmate touch never seemed to match your own. They got the feeling of warm hugs, and you got punches to the face.

To counteract your soulmate, you made it a mission to provide comfort. Clearly, they weren’t getting any. You’d be extra affectionate to your friends, always giving hugs goodbye, and platonic cuddles. It was what you were known for. You liked to think that your soulmate would enjoy it.

Unbeknownst to you, it did. Wanda, your soulmate, would relish the feelings of love. Love she didn’t get. Her guilt would eat away at her every time she would get hurt. When she was tortured by HYDRA, she would cry, not for her, but for you. She, of course, felt horrible when she went on missions for the Avengers, the pain being much less frequent but just as awful.

Your hugs, providing the warmth she never allowed herself to have with anyone. At night she would sometimes feel the warmth of someone next to her, and it was one of the few nights she slept well. Knowing you were safe and loved. She loved you, the constant feeling of warmness and love showing you were there with her. She has always been yours, maybe that's why she never let anyone get close, never go on dates when she had left HYDRA. She certainly had people wishing they were her soulmate, but her heart belonged to you.

-

Your job is much less exciting than Wanda's. Being a bank teller had its perks, you met lots of people every day. Silently praying that one of them was your soulmate. As well as the pay, being the bank that worked for Stark was pretty good. Free coffee at the coffee shop inside while you were working was phenomenal. You never met any of the avengers but you would see them occasionally come in.

-

When Wanda had first come to work for the Avengers, she was new, to well, everything. She hadn’t had a bank when she first joined, and Tony being Tony recommended his own that he used. It was a nice bank, she never had to go in, as Tony’s numerous assistants took care of all the work for her.

However as a gift, Tony had given everyone checks and Wanda went to deposit hers. She would probably donate hers to a local orphanage as she always did with her bonuses. Tony had offered to get someone to do it for her, but Wanda wanted to get out of the compound, especially when she heard about the amazing coffee that was there. She had lunch later with Nat and Bruce. As it was fairly early in the day when she decided to leave, she wanted to get all her errands done beforehand.

Walking into what she thought was one of the safest banks was quite alarming when she saw what was going on.

-

Being at work at 7 in the morning was the one thing you hated about this job. It was always slow in the mornings as well, waiting for people to help was bringing your attention to your fatigue. Although wanting people to come in was even less appealing. But when seven or so men came in, you were eager to help them all.

You smiled and said hello before they quickly showed you their guns. You didn’t even get the chance to press the panic button as one pointed a gun at you. You looked towards where security normally was a curse to yourself as they had been busy, they sat against a wall with guns pointing at them.

You heard the door open, and you look briefly at who came in, but the man pointing the gun at you thought you were trying to run. He grabbed your arm roughly and grabbed his knife. He pulled you towards you and held the knife against your neck stopping you from moving altogether.

He dragged it against your face slowly, scratching into your skin, enough for you to bleed. You cry out in pain.

-

Wanda steps in and sees people attempting to rob from the bank. They quickly noticed what was happening. She grabs her face feeling pain, your pain, which was extremely unlike her soulmate to get hurt. She looks at you and sees the blood trickling out of your cheek. She watches you get slapped and the knife digging into your skin, and she feels it too. She wanted to find you, but not like this. Not when she desperately wanted you safe, to see only the joy in the world which she never got to see much of.

“I suggest you stop now before you get into more trouble than you need to,” She shouts. The men point their guns at her quickly. But her eyes stay on you, she sees the fear in your eyes, the tears threatening to pool, she heard your cry. Wanda focuses her eyes back on the men, her eyes start turning red as she focuses on her powers. Willing the men to drop their weapons and kneel and inhibiting them to move. She didn’t try to control the man that had you, she was too scared that the sudden jerkiness from their fighting would hurt you.

“If you let her go now, you’d make your life so much easier” He merely laughs in her face, before pulling you closer to him the gun pressing roughly to your temple. You look at Wanda, the way her head moves slightly, the same side yours does, as if she could feel it.

Wanda already had alerted the rest of the team as soon as she saw what was happening, so she knows you’ll be okay soon, but she had just found you and she can’t help but worry.

You do get put into a worse situation, the man, that was holding you, decided to try and use you as a bargaining chip. Deciding if he hurt you enough Wanda would let him leave. He started constricting your oxygen take, slowly at first, but now it was getting hard to breathe and see. Wanda wasn’t doing much better than you but the man holding you didn’t have to know that. Slowly you slump against the man, he was startled that you were now unconscious and let you go suddenly, Wanda took this as an opportunity to restrain him as well.

The other avengers had just gotten there when you had fallen. Wanda rushed over to you and put her hand on your chest. She relaxed slightly when she saw you were still breathing.

-

You woke up to bright lights as you opened your eyes slightly. It didn’t look like the normal hospitals that were around you. Your breathing picks up slightly as you remember what happened. You remember men coming in and hurting you but you don’t remember much after.

Wanda looking up and seeing you were awake she makes her way over to you.

“Hey” You turn to look at her, you recognize her from somewhere but you can’t remember where. But holy shit is she beautiful. “Who are you?”

Wanda laughs, “We met at the bank and well, I think I’m your soulmate” She walks closer to you and grabs your hand, and you feel it. You stare dumbfounded at your interlocking hands. “I’m - I’m sorry if this isn’t what you want- This might be too soon I just I don’t know, I was so scared I had just found you and I-“

“No- no, this is exactly what I wanted. I’ve been dreaming of when I’d meet you since I knew what soulmates were. You’re so breathtaking. I-I just I don’t know, uh I don’t know what to do” You look up at her and laugh, “I’m Y/N by the way”

“Wanda, I don’t know really, um I don’t really know how to do this relationship stuff” You squeeze her hand slightly

“Me either, I guess we can figure it out together” You lean up slightly, inviting her to lean closer as well. When she gets close enough you kiss her. Slowly, taking your time, relishing the feeling. Everyone always said that kissing your soulmate was indescribable. The best feeling, something that you crave, they say you love your soulmate the moment your lips first meet.

“I, We should, we should get to know each other first before we say I love you” You stare at her dumbfounded. “You’re at the Avengers compound by the way” You look around and again notice where you are. You look back at Wanda, as if finally recognizing her.

“You’re the, you're the, you’re an Avenger” She laughs at you, “I see you on TV all the time, OH my that’s why you’re hurt all the time” She smiles sheepishly

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that” You squeeze her hand that’s still interlocked with your own.

“I’ll forgive you if you give me another kiss” You grin at her before she laughs and leans forward again.

[f1nalboys]

Anon asked:

Hi I was wondering if you could do headcannons for the slashers finding child reader and seeing some marks on their bodies that means they've been abused by their guardian or parent? And maybe slashers being the reader's new guardian and parent? You can add fluff in this if you like.

Hi, thank you sm for the request! I had such a good time writing this lol, just imagining some of them as parents was *chefs kiss* I hope you enjoy this! (And, if you or anyone reading this is dealing with abuse, please call or text the hotline * and remember you are strong, brave, and do not deserve what is happening. <3 )

*This hoteline is only for the U.S states and Canada, but please don’t be afraid to search up the hotline for where you are or to tell someone you trust!

WARNINGS: implication of abuse

MICHAEL (RZ)

‘What is this gremlin and why are they around me?’

Honestly would be treating you like a pest as a first instinct, he doesn't really get why you're around him in the first place like where are your parents…

I mean once he loses you he's gonna follow you around because he needs to know who you belong to lol 

During his little stalking hours he starts to recognise his own behavior that he exhibited in his childhood to yours and he gets this sick feeling in his stomach

When he sees your guardian he is immediately filled with rage because he knows exactly why you're doing the things you were

He is killing whoever it is that very night he doesnt care whos around of the chances of him being caught

There’s a 50/50 chance of him taking you in himself. I really think it’ll depend on your age and how you act, you know? Michael isn’t going to want to or be able to take care of a toddler or kid in a way he sees fit so he's just going to drop you off at a neighbors house 

Now if you’re older and more reserved/independent he might be more willing to watch over you but I still think it would be really hard for him to do so

As long as you’re in Haddonfield though he’ll be checking in on you and just making sure you're alright and safe

Boogieman got your back basically

Billy Loomis and Stu Macher

‘Why is this unattended child out at night and why are they hanging out around us?’

They’re psychopaths not assholes, they’re gonna try and help you lol

They’re surprisingly good with kids, especially Stu, so you’re immediately comfortable around them

Billy is the first to notice your behavior and any bruises and immediately connects the dots. He’s had his fair share of bruises and knows exactly how you got them

Once he starts asking questions, Stu will catch on and get just as mad as Billy, if not more so.

They both have already come to the same conclusion: whoever did it to you is not going to be surviving the night

Take you to Stu’s parents house (who welcome you with open arms and doted on you) and leave for an ‘errand’

Gone for a few hours and when they come back (they made sure to stop and get you some snacks) they let you know that you're safe now

When they take you to the police station in the morning they promise to make sure you’re alright and Stus parents offer to foster you (they’re going to adopt you don’t worry)

Big brother Stu and Uncle Billy :,)

Thomas Hewitt

Personally I think they have a strict no children policy (they’ll kill them if need be but they try to make sure it never comes to that) but Tommy and Luda Mae are very strict enforcers of this rule because if Hoyt had his way it wouldn’t matter what age you were; food is food

The moment Thomas sees you being hurt in any capacity he is going straight to his mother to tell her and lets just say Luda Mae is pissed

Thomas becomes a protective older brother to you, Luda Mae is acting like your mom, and Hoyts your weird Uncle but Tommy make sure he isn’t too harsh on you lol

Your abuser is staying alive until Thomas knows exactly what they did to you because he’s going to return it tenfold

Hoyt would bug you about getting revenge but Tommy really wouldn't want you to do so because you’re a kid, you shouldnt be exposed to that sort of thing (he knows eventually you’ll have to learn about the family business but he wants to stop that from happening for as long as possible)

If you say you want to, though, he’ll be with you every step of the way

He is going to teach you sign language you don’t know it because he wants to talk to you and let you know everything is alright now

Found family at its core babey

Sinclair Brothers

Lesters the first one who notices. He saw what happened with Bo growing up and seeing how you were acting when you were in the car, shrinking into yourself, he got angry

And when Lester is angry, he is angry… the man is hard to piss off so when Bo sees him pull into town with you in there and sees his face he knows something happened

God, speaking of Bo, he was furious. It took so much willpower to not kill your abuser right then and there

Bo is good with kids, i don't care what anyone says, he’s cracking jokes and letting them look at the car’s engine with him, stuff like that

Made sure you didn’t see or hear what happened with your abuser but will introduce you to Vincent (who might be more inclined to show you his face if you think his mask is scary) and he lets Vincent know that these people aren’t to become statues under any circumstance

He tells you the people you were with left and that they apologized for what they did and he doesn’t think you believe him but you seemed so relieved he didn’t want to tell you the truth

Most likely to take you to the next town over to the police station to get you somewhere safe because he and Vincent agreed that it wouldn't be safe for you in Ambrose

But if you begged enough to stay Vincent would convince Bo that it’d be alright

No matter how much Bo grumbles about you being there, eating him out of house and home, he’s actually pretty happy you're around because he can be a father figure to you (even if it scares him half to death)

Vincent will teach you how to sculpt (obviously not with humans, maybe when you're older if they ever tell you (or when you inevitably find out))

Cool Uncle Lester teaches you about bones and lets you ride around in the truck with him

Jason Voorhees

Witnesses it during his daily rounds around the camp  and neither he (or Mrs. Voorhees) is happy

Kills them then and there; there is 0 hesitation, he lowkey forgets you're even there and that you’re witnessing it 

When he notices you he feels so bad and actually feels worse when you seem to be happy they’re gone

Is afraid you're going to be scared of him because all he wanted to do was protect you but he’ll try and explain to you through sign language or through writing into the dirt with a stick

Actually wants you to stay in the camp with him so he can watch over you but has no hard feelings about you going back to civilization (he doesn’t even know how he’d be as a father)

Obviously he can't go and drop you off somewhere because he’s literally s zombie lol but he will go as far as he can to make sure you get somewhere safely

Worries about you even weeks after you’ve left, like how are you doing? Are you with someone trustworthy? Do you remember him?

If you stay, however, he is gonna be the best god damn dad ever, if not a bit overprotective

You’re not allowed to leave the designated area he’s ropped off outside of the cabin because god forbid some campers stumble across you

Tiffany Valentine

We all know my wife has no qualms about killing kids but she’s way too sympathetic once she figures out what's going on with you

Meet your new goth mom! She’s great!

She is the most qualified out of all of the slashers to take care of a kid regardless of the age (I mean, remember Glen/Glenda and how accepting she was? How much she cares for her kid?)

She’s killing your abuser without a single care in the world, she’s not wasting any time either. She lets you know you’re safe with her and that nothing will ever hurt you again

Get ready to be pampered; she is treating you to everything you could ever want. You won’t be spoiled, of course, but you’re going to be comfortable

You will be the most well-adjusted kid being taken care of by a slasher (maybe losing to Billy and Stu but that’s just because of Stu’s parents) so congrats for that!

[roger-that-cap]

cardigan

natasha romanoff x f!reader

word count: 8.9k (haha)

warnings: swearing, cheating!natasha, sad!reader, uhm this is angsty for me, asshole!natasha, sort of asshole!team, more angst, sort of happy ending sort of, secrets™️

this is inspired by taylor swift’s cardigan. folklore and evermore are really getting me through this i swear

obviously i do not own this song, picture, or any of the warped lyrics that i attempted to slide in as creatively possible :) this is also my first one shot and my first reader insert ever- i tried to not go into any physical details about miss y/n but i hope y’all like it!

No editor. All mistakes are 100% mine!

You couldn’t have been any more excited to see Natasha. She had been gone for what felt like forever on a mission with Steve, Bucky, and some agent that was on her first big mission, a girl that you recalled to be named Abigail. Regardless of what her name was, they were all heading home today after so long, nearly two months.

There was no telling how much you were ready for the return of your fiancée. The two of you had promised to get married nine months ago, and you were already deep into planning. You were going to your dress appointment at Kleinfeld’s (your literal childhood wish) in two days. You had the venue picked, the table accessories done, the seating chart already filled out and sitting pretty in laminated sheets in a binder. The day was going to be perfect, and it was what you and Natasha deserved after so long. Especially Natasha, after every single thing that she had been through just to save the world and to help those who weren’t able to help themselves.

Natasha was your angel.

Your heart was racing in your chest as you waited for the quinjet to land, the ring feeling light on your left finger as you rolled back and forth on your feet. You couldn’t hold back a toothy grin as you waited for them to fly back in, and to hug Natasha again. That was the most important part. To have her back in your arms so that you could do things like stay in together for the weekend and stay holed up in their room just doing innocent things, like counting each other’s heartbeats.

You stood with your hands clasped in front of your body as they landed, a dopey grin on your face and the same nervous glint in your eye that was there every time that you waited for your fiancée to come back home. You knew that Natasha would always find her way back to you, but there was no telling what condition she would be in.

The moment the doors opened, Abigail ran through them, and down the ramps nearly knocking you over. You reached your arms out to steady the other girl, who looked like she was about to burst into tears at any second. As much as you wanted to just hug Natasha and go home after you ate and sleep in bed with her, you couldn’t leave a girl in tears like that without checking on her. “Woah, are you okay, sweetie?”

The girl’s bottom lip jutted out, like she was about to cry just because of you asking the question. She didn’t say anything, but she was obviously falling apart from the inside, and it made you more than mildly concerned. You didn’t like to see anyone cry, let alone a girl who had just come back from her first big mission. “I’m fine.” Her voice cracked.

“Are you sure?” You were no medic or super soldier or even assassin-spy, but you were nothing if not rational and sympathetic. You were so in tune to the poor girl that you didn’t feel the palpable awkwardness of everyone else who walked off of the quinjet, almost all of them cringing. “Do you need to talk to someone?”

“I- I’m sorry,” Abigail said, and she was running away from you faster than you had ever seen anyone run before.

You frowned as you watched her run. “I hope she’s alright, poor thing. I can’t imagine how a first mission feels,” you murmured, turning around and seeing the slightly spooked eyes of the rest of the team. You smiled at them cautiously and walked over to Natasha, arms already raised as you went to embrace her tightly. You breathed in and put your face in her neck, nearly crying tears of joy as you smelled her shampoo, a rich scent that meant the safety and comfort of them both. “I’m so glad you’re alright.”

You were so happy to hold your fiancée again that you almost didn’t notice how standoffish she was being, and her lack of enthusiasm. She had never been not enthusiastic to see you, especially after going so long without seeing each other. After too long of her not reacting to your warm embrace by kissing your hair or murmuring her usual missed you, princessa, you pulled away and looked at her, a questioning look on your face. “Are you okay, my love?”

Natasha stepped back, not looking you in the eyes and choosing to just smooth out the sleeves of her combat attire, eyes on the floor. That was very unlike her. Something must have gone terribly wrong. “I just want to get home.”

Your vibe visibly deteriorated. It was obvious that Natasha had just popped your bubble and left it as an empty shell, but you were still smiling anyway. Like you always did. “Okay, Nat. We can do that.” You reached out for Natasha’s hand and grabbed it after waving goodbye to the other team members, who all looked either extremely displeased or like they had been caught doing something very awkward.

You walked back to your part of the tower together in silence that wasn’t characteristic of the two of you. You were a known chatterbox, happy and always starting meaningful conversations, but also one of the best listeners to ever grace the earth. Natasha liked to listen, too, and she had the best words and the best voice to listen to. One of them was always talking. The silence between them was almost haunting.

Natasha went straight into the shower. She didn’t offer for you to go in with her, which was what the two of you always did after a mission. You got to see Natasha at her most vulnerable, and Natasha was finally allowed to let down the shroud of strength that only lasted for so long without being damaging. It was the thing that kept you close and often the action that got Natasha to open up about what happened and how she truly felt. Natasha skipping out on that time hurt you and made you expect the worst. 

She turned the lights off the minute that she was out of the shower, not speaking to you or even offering any physical assurance, which was something that Natasha knew that you needed after she came home.

You just prayed that she would be ready to talk in the morning.

§§§

Natasha wasn’t there when you woke up. You frowned and patted the empty spot in the bed beside you even though you knew that she was probably at the gym or running around doing errands. You sighed and crawled out of bed, doing the daily routine that you usually did with Natasha, and leaving the room to go make some breakfast.

There were whispers that hissed like snakes when you came around the corner, and they came to a screeching halt when you bounced into the room. You grinned at everyone sitting or standing in the kitchen, ignoring their deer-in-headlights looks and searching for the woman you were set to get married to. You frowned a bit when there was no sign of her.

“Good morning!” You hummed out anyways, going towards the pantry once you saw that no one had made food yet. Because you were staying there and you had no other skills, you had been the one to take up personal chef for the entire team just to pull some weight, even though they insisted that you didn’t need to do a thing. As long as you “kept Nat happy”, they said. 

It took a second for any of them to respond. “Good morning,” Steve said, his voice oddly clinical for the way he usual greeted you. He was the morning person of the bunch, and probably your closest friend other than Wanda. 

You took the supplies out of the pantry with a thoughtful look on your face. “I’m not trying to pry,” you started softly, back still towards them as you started with the pancake mix. “But, was the mission bad?” No one spoke for a few heavy moments. 

“We succeeded,” Bucky finally stated vaguely, his voice floating through the room.

You never the type to spill all of your personal business to people, but these people weren’t just anyone. These were your closest friends, the people who were going to be in the wedding, either in one bridal party or the other’s. “Nat’s not talking to me,” you sighed out, and turned around to see all of them stiff as boards. “Was it hard for her?”

No one said anything.

You pursed your lips and turned your back to them again, looking away from them to gathered your thoughts for a second. You took in a deep breath and told yourself not to pry, not to think about what Natasha would surely tell you when she was ready. You turned your head and gave them your trademark grin. “Who wants blueberries in their pancakes?”

§§§

You sat in your shared room after a full day of Natasha blatantly ignoring and avoiding you. You were patient, because that was what you had to be to date an Avenger, but Natasha had never straight up ignored you before. You learned very quickly that it called for a different type of patience than the one you were used to.

   In the kitchen when she was forced to be present after you cooked a huge welcome home meal, she didn’t hug on you or kiss your cheek or even look you in the eyes. It wasn’t like her. You came to the tough conclusion that it wasn’t because of the mission, because she had never done that before, not even after the one where the children were caught in the crossfire. You were always the one that she talked to, no matter what.

The lamp light was the only light on in the room, because you knew that Natasha liked it better that way. Maybe less light would make her open up a bit, and the two of you would finally see eye to eye after the annoying stalemate that felt eternal.

You didn’t know how long Natasha would take come back and speak, but you knew that it wouldn’t be too long. Natasha liked to talk, and she had said multiple times that she liked to talk to you the most. It would be any time, right? That’s what you thought until the hours crept by, and you saw and heard no sign of anything. Not even the ding of an elevator or the shutting of a door, or her soft footsteps that she made on purpose because her natural steps were so quiet that she scared you when she appeared. 

When Natasha finally came in, it was late in the night, morning time. Three in the morning, to be exact. You shook off your nerves and smiled at her, and the smile wasn’t returned as much as it should have been. “Hi,” you said, almost a little star struck by finally seeing her. It brought you back to the time you didn’t truly know her. 

You had always admired Natasha. Not even because of her being Black Widow, but because she was Natasha Romanoff, an enemy spy and assassin turned good. And it brought you pure joy knowing that you would soon be taking on her last name, which you secretly thought of as your greatest achievement. Natasha was the one you wanted with for life, and you were steps closer. 

You waited to hear Natasha’s voice. You waited in anticipation for her to run to you and start to spill immediately. You were waiting to wipe her tears and assure her that it wasn’t her fault, and that she couldn’t have done anything differently. “Hi.”

You frowned. Confusion flooded your senses at the short greeting. “Huh?”

“Why are you up?” Her tone sounded almost accusatory, like she had caught you doing something that you weren’t supposed to do, like you were intruding on her time. The frown on your face turned into a slight scowl, and then you reminded yourself that patience was key with Natasha.

“I’m allowed to wait up for my future wife,” you teased, but the look in your eye was serious. You could see how the red head lingered at the doorway, like she was trying to decide whether to bolt or leave with grace. You weren’t going to give her enough time to make the decision. Come sit, please.” When Natasha didn’t move an inch, your facial expression fell. “Please.”

Natasha walked over to the bed slowly, like she was being forced to move or die. You shook your head side to side, eyeing her up and down like the answer to the problem that you didn’t know yet was written on her body somewhere. “I’m here,” she said quietly, like a distant whisper.

“Are you really?” You asked quietly, and it felt like your voice echoed like the beating of drums in the nearly silent room. “Can you please tell me what’s going on?”

“Nothing happened.”

You knew that you shouldn’t pry. You both hated prying, but you were also both naturally transparent. You two had never truly had to pry with each other before. The truth was, you didn’t know how far you could push until she snapped on you. “Are you sure?”

Like someone had flipped a switch, a small smile lit up on Natasha’s face. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to sate you for a while. “Yes, princessa. I’m very sure. I’m tired.”

That was all it took. All it took was Natasha muttering the sweet nickname to you, and it was all as good as talked about. You could rest for a moment.

“Then we can go to bed, my love.” You reached out to touch Natasha’s face, loving the familiar feeling of her soft skin. “You know, you don’t ever have to be afraid to tell me anything, Nattie.”

You stared at Natasha for a while, just admiring her face and everything about it, almost missing the way that she didn’t do it back. This was something that you two did nearly every night before going to sleep- you just watched each other. A slow, dopey grin slid onto your face, and then you leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her nose, then her cheek, and then to her pink lips in a soft yet passionate kiss, as soft as rose petals.

You pulled away and smiled at her with your eyes closed, nuzzling your face into her neck. You took in a deep breath, inhaling her sweet smell and feeling the comfort was over you like waves in the ocean. You could have told her a thousand things in that instant, but they all revolves around one master idea. “I love you so much, Natasha.”

You brushed a red strand of hair out of her face before reaching up to kiss her forehead, and then you were back in her neck, trying to sleep.

There was no response, just Natasha’s arm’s getting tighter around you and squeezing three times, each harder and shakier than the last. That was all it took for you to fall asleep.

When you woke up the next morning, you recalled having a dream that featured a woman crying, the sound distant yet close.

§§§

You had a feeling that Natasha was going to do the exact same thing that she did the first time, and you assumed correctly. You took it in stride this time and went to the flower store to pick out your bouquet that you would walk with, and probably throw. It was something that you wanted to do on your own, anyway. Like most brides, you didn’t want your future spouse seeing anything that you were going to be wearing until the big day. Not even the veil or the flowers that you would be carrying.

“That’s gorgeous!” You grinned at the employee, who mirrored your excited look. “That’s perfect, she’ll love it.”

While you gushed about your flowers, you also wondered if Natasha was doing a bouquet, too. You hoped that she had someone that would help her out with it, maybe Sharon or Wanda. Natasha wasn’t really big on the planning of the wedding. In fact, she wanted it much smaller than it was going to be, but you had convinced her to do it your way. Maybe it was your natural charm that helped you swindle the spy, or perhaps it was because she just secretely wanted the same thing.

As you walked away from the flower shop after placing the order, you walked by the busy donut shop that Natasha loved going to. Usually, it would be Natasha that stopped by and brought you some donuts, but maybe the other way around would be enough to make the red headed woman smile a bit. You stopped for a second and then didn’t hesitate to go in, pulling out a couple dollars for a tip, too.

Natasha loved chocolate donuts, even though she tried to resist eating them. You liked glazed better, but it was alright. You’d buy chocolate for her. You had hope that they would get Natasha to open up just a little, as dumb as it sounded. But a bribe never went wrong, and what was the harm in donuts?

“Thank you, Sarah,” you said after you got the box of donuts, walking out of the sweet smelling shop and down the street towards the tower.

When you got back, it was loud. It usually was pretty loud, with everyone and everything going on, but this was a different type of loud. It wasn’t the tinkering of metal in the lab or the sounds of sparring or elevators going up and down. It was shouting. A full on shouting match that was loud enough to be heard from floors down was happening. You nearly dropped the box of donuts as you hurriedly pressed the level that you and Natasha stayed on, hoping to find her in the room and out of the fight. The ride up the elevator was almost too full of anticipation as you waited in what would have been silence, if not for the yelling.

“No, because you can’t control yourself!” The voice was now obviously Steve’s. You were shocked. You had never heard Steve so riled up, ever. It was out of character for him to be so angry at someone, even if that particular someone fucked up royally. “You did something stupid, and now you’ll own up to it. Simple.”

“I fucking can’t!” You frowned. That was without a doubt Natasha. “I can’t, not right now. So fuck off.”

“I can’t fuck off after you’ve done something like this, Romanoff.” You winced as the elevator doors opened. Steve didn’t use Natasha’s last name anymore, not since they got close. And he certainly didn’t use the f-bomb much. “This is… it’s beyond-”

“What happened?” You shoved the donuts into Sam’s waiting hands, which were open for business when he saw you coming out of the elevator. “What’s all the yelling for?”

Everyone was staring at you like you were a ghost that wasn’t supposed to show up even though they had called on you. No one had an immediate answer, and so you put your hands on your hips. “Is everything okay?”

Tony looked at Natasha with sharp eyes and took a step back, raising his palms. “On you.”

It took a second for Natasha to say anything to you, and it was clear that everyone was waiting for something. It was even more clear that everyone was equally pissed at Natasha, for whatever reason.

“Everything is just fine, princessa.” Natasha’s voice carried over to your ears, smooth as honey, even though she wasn’t looking up into your eyes. “Don’t worry.”

You didn’t really believe it. How could you? She wasn’t talking to you, she wasn’t lying with you, she wasn’t counting your heartbeats like you did with her. There was something wrong, something had to be for Steve to be yelling like that, in front of everyone else. You eyed Natasha for a few extra seconds and then took the donuts back, muttering a thanks to Sam.

“Alright.” As if seeing the box made you remember why you went out in the first place, your trademark grin was back. “I ordered my bouquet today,” you hummed, walking up to Natasha and planting a kiss on her lips. When you pulled away, you murmured the customary I love you under your breath, like you two did every time you kissed. The one who initiated the kiss would say it first, and it would be answered by a quick “always”.

“A-always. Oh?” You realized that Natasha’s voice fluttered when she said it.

“Yeah, you can’t see which one, though.” You winked at her playfully, trying to ignore the way that the others looked mildly uncomfortable. You were used to uncomfortable looks, but never from them. You knew that it wasn’t homophobia, because they were never that way. So their behavior ran deeper than that. What the fuck happened? “My dress appointment is tomorrow.”

“Yeah.”

You were too busy getting a donut from the box to see the looks that everyone else shared when you spoke again. “How’s the girl who went on the mission with you? She seemed a little upset when you guys came back.”

Natasha’s hair nearly bounced with how high she shot up, her body going straight at the mention of the other girl. She looked away from your eyes for a split second, and then back. “Fine.”

You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, eyes on Natasha. “Is she good with fashion? Maybe seeing dresses and all that would make her feel a little better.”

Natasha looked horrified as she realized what you were insinuating. “No. No, she’s fine. She doesn’t need to be invited anywhere.”

“It’s just to sit and watch me try on dresses. Wanda, Sharon, and Pepper are going, right?” You looked towards Tony to confirm, and he nodded his head firmly before looking at Natasha again, a serious look in his eyes. “Maybe Abigail can go.”

“No. She’s not going.” There was something in Natasha’s tone that sounded so final, so adamant, that you knew in your heart to just drop it. It saved you both in that moment.

That didn’t mean that you weren’t allowed to make a face of disapproval. “That’s not nice at all, Nattie. I hope you weren’t the reason she was crying. You’re known to be a little mean.”

Natasha looked away from you, taking a step back. Her eyebrow was twitching, a sign of stress that you picked up on like it was your own. “I have to go.”

“Wait, I got these for-” Natasha left in a hurry, so fast that you barely even registered that she had left. She left awkwardness in her absence. “Well, she can eat them later. Feel free to have some, guys, just save one or two for her, okay?”

They were all quiet for a few seconds, like they were in the midst of a special moment where they were all feeling the same thing, everyone in the room except for you. Finally, Wanda spoke. “Okay, Y/N.” You smiled at them, gave them all sweet hugs, and left.

§§§

You were bursting at the seams at being seen for a dress appointment at Kleinfeld’s. Wanda was with you, and so were Sharon and Pepper. They were excited for you, but no one matched your energy.

You were a girl finally getting what she had been dreaming of her whole life; to get married in a beautiful dress to the person she loved. You would soon be walking down the isle to see Natasha waiting for you, flanked by everyone else that was ever important to them.

You must have been the luckiest woman in the world.

“You’re really excited,” Sharon mused, but it was more of an observation than a statement.

“I’m so excited,” you confirmed. “I’m marrying the love of my life in what’s going to be my dream dress, I know it.” You grinned as the four of you watched people bustling around the shop. There was a bride near tears, just like on the TV episodes, and you watched fondly. Seeing people get what they wanted made you happy.

The search for the perfect dress went nothing less than perfectly. Within the first two sweeps, you managed to get into a dress that everyone thought was perfect for you, and you loved it, too. It even brought the three out of the haze that they were in, out of focus and minds so far gone that your excited squeals were all that broke them out of their thoughts.

“It’s gorgeous, Y/N.” Pepper said, her voice soft and cautious as they walked up to pay. It was silent as you waited for an attendant to come to the counter and check you out.

“I- I think there’s something you should know.” The other girls’ head whipped Pepper’s way, and she gave them a look that told them that she wasn’t going to back down from whatever she had to say.

You had what felt like a permanent grin on your face as you thought about the dress. It was a dramatic ball gown, blush pink and flowy. You were almost as in love with it as you were with Natasha, and the matching heels that you got and the gorgeous veil that matched topped it all off. You and your soon to be bridal party walked out into the crisp air, and you turned your head towards Pepper. “Sure, what is it?”

There were a few beats of silence. “Let’s go sit in the car,” Pepper insisted, and so they walked back to the car that Happy was driving for them, where he was sitting with the partition rolled down. He gave them a half assed greeting before they all piled in. “Can I start off with saying that… I’m sorry if you feel like any of us betrayed you.”

You trusted them all with your life, but that didn’t stop your heart from starting to race at the words Pepper said. Whatever this announcement was, it wasn’t good at all. “What?” When no one said anything, you laughed a little. “What, is the dress actually ugly and you didn’t say anything while we were in there? Do I need to go back?”

“No, the dress is beautiful.” The other girls nodded, and then you were sure of yourself and your taste again. “It’s just… Abigail.”

You frowned a bit, immediately thinking of the tragic scene where the girl rushed out of the quintet, breaking down by the second. “Oh, poor thing. Is she not doing as well as they say she is? I know a first big mission can be tough.”

There was a thick silence before Sharon blurted it out. “I am so, so sorry.” You leaned forward, heart skipping a few beats while Sharon took in a deep breath. You knew that some kind of blow was coming just by her apology, and you were bracing for it. “Natasha and Abigail had an affair on the mission.”

In the movies, it was like an instant shattering of the heart when news was broken like that. Immediate tears, automatic screaming and cursing and wanting to call up the other person to threaten them. There was lashing out, the breaking of glass, all the cinematic things that made actors on screen look better and less awkward when they broke down. You always thought that they were overreacting.

Now you knew that they weren’t. You felt that way on the inside. Your mind was raging like a hurricane and a tornado all at once, one disaster coming from the east and the other from the west. Your anger was the tornado, whipping around and threatening to destroy everything in your path and lash out at every single damn person in that car. But just like a tornado, you wore out and disbanded, all in your head. All that was left was the hurricane. The sadness. The disappointment. The heartbreak.

You had never even entertained the thought of how you would be after getting betrayed by her, but if you had, you probably would have imagined that the tornado would have acted first. But it didn’t. Unlike in the movies, all you did was tilt your head to the side and ask for the words to be repeated, even though you didn’t even listen for a second. You couldn’t believe it. Not Natasha. Not your Natasha. Not your angel.

“Natasha and Abigail slept with each other on multiple occasions on the mission, by word of Steve,” Sharon pointed out, her voice similar to the way a doctor sounded while delivering bad news, only a little shakier. “Abigail ran out crying because she fell in love with Natasha and knew that it would never really happen, not because she ruined the mission.”

Not only had Natasha slept with another person, but she had somehow convinced the girl that they were going to be together. Natasha didn’t have a ring, and the girl was new. There was no way she would have known that you two were together unless someone explicitly told her, and there were better things to do on a mission. It wasn’t her fault. Even if she had known, it wasn’t Abigail’s fault. Natasha Romanoff knew better. She knew a thousand times better.

“I don’t think either of them meant for it to happen,” Pepper said, immediately trying to calm you down, even though you hadn’t even spoken an angry word yet, and you looked like you weren’t even close to shouting.

The distinct sound of the partition rolling up was what brought you back to the present.

“But it did happen,” you said slowly, not even realizing that your teeth were gritted. “It happened.”

You couldn’t believe it. You didn’t want to, you wanted to believe it was a lie and calmly confront Natasha, but Steve was the one who had said it, and Steve didn’t lie. Why hadn’t he told you before?

Now that you knew what went on during the mission, you could see that everyone was acting weird. Everyone knew, there was no question about it. Which meant that everyone knew, and no one told you. They didn’t even hint toward anything, and they knew that you were supposed to be marrying the woman who went behind your back and did the unforgivable multiple times.

“We- we’re supposed to be getting married.” The pitiful sentence was all that you could string together in a thought as you looked out of the window at the traffic. You wished that the cars would just go, fly around so that you could cry by yourself. “I don’t even know what to say.” There were a million things happening in your mind at once, and trying not to cry in front of everyone was the biggest effort.

“I’m sorry,” Sharon’s voice said, and she really did sound apologetic. But it wasn’t enough in the moment. You wanted to hear Natasha say it, if all was true. But you knew it was. “We’re all sorry. We were waiting for Romanoff to own up to what she did.” Sharon said, obviously trying not to feel the wrath of you that was surely bubbling beneath the surface.

You could have been angry towards them. You knew that you felt betrayed, by everyone that knew and chose not to speak, that was a no-brainer. You could have been a lot of things at the moment, but there were bigger fish to fry. You clenched your fists and looked at the window, blinking rapidly as you grappled for composure. “Don’t apologize, you didn’t do anything.”

“I don’t think you-”

“I get it. It’s alright. I just prefer not to speak right now, ‘s all.” And conversation ended. But that was when the turmoil in your head and heart started to crank up the energy.

Your first instinct was to bust in there and look for the Black Widow herself, to yell until you lost your voice. Your first instinct was to cause a scene and embarrass her as much as Natasha did to you. You couldn’t believe she had gotten everyone to lie for her. You couldn’t believe that she had an obvious affair with a new agent. You couldn’t believe that you walked around thinking that nothing was wrong while everyone else pitied you behind your back.

Unfortunately, you were quite used to not being enough. Not enough to make it into ivy leagues, not enough to make the track team, not having enough to afford to buy all of your clothes without cringing and thinking about putting some items back. But you were never going to be used to not being enough for Natasha Romanov.

The drive back was the most awkward drive that the four of them had ever been on, without question. You had tears streaming down your face but you were still as silent as the night, just like everyone else. You hardly ever cried. You were always the ray of sunshine and rationality in the tower, and now everything positive had been blown out by the darkness that Natasha created.

When everyone got out of the car, it was sluggishly. Everyone knew what was bound to happen, but it was questionable whether or not the end of the blow out was going to result in settlement or people storming and and leaving. You already knew how it would end.

The second that the elevator landed on you and Natasha’s floor, you shakily thanked the girls for their honesty and walked right out, knowing that it was probably the last time that you would ever be going up in Stark Tower. In your angry fantasy about confronting your fiancée, you imagined storming in and shouting her name, getting her attention and then breaking her down into pieces like the words did to you in the car.

But once you were in your room, you found that the fantasies were just that, and you couldn’t say a word or do a thing but find your suitcase and pack, all the fire leaving your body the second that you saw your room.

You were halfway through gathering everything that was yours in the room that you and Natasha shared, tears streaming down steadily, when you registered that it was real. Natasha had really done the unimaginable, and there was no turning back. A small sob escaped your throat when you saw the sweater you had gotten Natasha hanging up in the closet, the same one that she wore when she got down on one knee for you. Did that mean nothing, too? Was the meaning and emotion of that and everything that led up to it blown to smithereens by something as trivial as two months?

The door flung open. “What are you doing?”

“Don’t talk to me.” You blurted, turning your head to not look at Natasha, trying to avoid her blue gaze. If you looked, you had no doubts that you would turn to stone, and that you would never find the strength to leave the woman who you loved the most and hurt you the most, all within three minutes.

Natasha looked bewildered by the suitcase on the bed. “Are you- are you leaving?”

“What the hell else am I supposed to do?” The temper that was kept just below simmering in the car was finally starting to boil over. “I can’t believe you, Natasha!”

“I-” She sputtered, and you gave her a pointed look in response. “Who told you?”

The question brought fire into your veins. She knew that you knew, because she knew that it was the one secret that had the power to make you so emotional. You two kept no secrets, and for this to be the first? That was painful.

You knew that Natasha would sense your lie about who told you and who didn’t, but you told it anyway. There was no use in causing a riff between the team because they wanted to help you. “I figured it out myself. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Natasha held her hands out in front of her body, and the gesture was so similar to the way that she used to hold her hands out in a silent ask for you to hold them. You hated the way that your heart lurched, and the way that you craved the feeling of her hands even more. “It was an accident.”

An accident? A two month escapade with another woman was an accident?

“After that long ass ride home on the quinjet, you could have at least come up with a better lie.”

“Princessa-”

“I- fuck you.” Your voice cracked in the middle of the explicative, tears falling into the suitcase pitifully. It made your raging temper even worse. “Fuck you.”

“My love-”

“I don’t understand why!” You couldn’t contain the waves of emotion you felt anymore as you slammed the top of the unfinished suitcase closed. “I give you everything I have every single day. Every day. I love you with all of my heart and I do everything I can to make you happy and you give me this? I tried so hard to make sure that we were both happy together, and we were. So, why?”

The look on Natasha’s face wasn’t unfamiliar to you. You knew it well, but it had never been used on you before. It was the look of a spy who didn’t want to say a damn word, silent resistance that you knew would be unbroken. That’s when you knew that you may never know the real reason. And it broke you. “There isn’t a reason.”

You crumbled faster than you ever had before “Natasha, we were- how could you do this to me?” You collapsed into sobs, falling onto the bed and putting your face into your hands. You didn’t know how long you cried for until you felt a hand on your shoulder, very hesitant to even attempt at being comforting. You didn’t have the energy to tell her to fuck off.

“I’m sorry,” Natasha cooed, and for a second, it felt like something was right again. Natasha being gentle was a regular occurrence, a side to the famous ex assassin that only you saw. It was your biggest safety blanket in life. But when she opened her mouth again, you were brought back to why you two were even doing this in the first place. “I didn’t mean for any of it to happen.”

You shook your head out of anger. The fact that the lie was shitty made it worse, made it hurt more. She didn’t even want to come up with a lie that would make you stay?

“Somehow you convinced that poor girl that you were going to be with her. How did you manage to do that on accident? How did you sleep with her multiple times on accident? You lead her on emotionally.”

“No.”

“Yes.” You pushed her hand off of your shoulder. “You told her some pretty little words and she fell for them as most do, right? Like I did, I guess. Just tell me the truth.”

“I didn’t-”

You remembered the way the girl was so distraught. You remembered the amount of tears that she had. You remembered the way that she avoided looking in your eyes, the way that she looked completely heart broken. Just like how you looked. You scoffed. “She told you she loved you, didn’t she?”

Natasha’s light blue eyes were boring into yours as she was silent. For the first time in a while, there was no telling of what Natasha was thinking in your mind. You were disconnected. “Yes.”

The words hurt to get out, but you had to know the answer to them. At any cost. Even at the cost of your own heart and sanity. “And you told her the same.”

There was a thick silence that spanned across multiple frantic heartbeats. “Yes.”

The next words were automatic. “I’m done.” You opened the suitcase again. The tears were coming harder than ever, warping your voice so much that your not Natasha hardly recognized it. “Done.”

“You can’t just-”

“Yes, I can!” You whipped around, eyes nailing Natasha right in her place. “Unless you can give me a good reason for what the hell you did, I’m done.”

Excruciating silence. It struck like lightning on the last tree in a struck down forest.

You turned on your heel, but then, words bubbled up in your throat, and you couldn’t shove them down. “When you miss me after you’re done, don’t come back to me.” Your voice cracked in the middle, but you kept pushing. “When you stop and think about what we could have been, do not come and find me. Because you’ll figure it out one day, and it’ll get through that thick skull.”

Natasha’s eyes were slightly watery as she looked on, taking a few steps forward with on outstretched arm, looking to latch on to you. “Love, please.”

You scoffed and ran out of the door, with nothing but a suitcase and a bag in your hands. You cried all the way to the elevator, ignoring the fact that Wanda and Vision’s room was right there across the hall, and how they without a doubt heard everything. Hell, everyone had heard everything. The argument weren’t exactly quiet.

You cried even harder when the doors of the elevator closed. Your hands shook as you brought them up to your face, remembering far too late that Tony Stark sometimes watched the tapes, especially elevator ones. You couldn’t even bring yourself to care. You turned into yourself and sobbed as your body and head shook, trying to rid herself of everything that happened. You cried more when you realized that you hadn’t meant a word of what you said to Natasha.

Deep down, through all of the emotions, you wanted her to seek you out when she learned her lesson. You didn’t know why, and you knew that you didn’t want it any time soon, but you knew that you wanted it.

It was supposed to be a magical day. The day you got the dress was the day it all became real, the day that solidified the fact that you would be getting married to the woman that you loved. You were heart broken. The familiar sound of the elevator stopping and the doors opening barely snapped you out of your well deserved pity party.

You only took one look at the new arrival, and that was when it was decided that the universe, was indeed, very unkind.

Abigail stood there like a deer in head lights, swallowing and looking with wide eyes, certainly unsure about whether or not she should just leave or apologize and hop in and pretend like she didn’t know what was going on. She looked like she expected confrontation.

Your wobbly smile shocked her. “You don’t have to be scared. Come in.” Your voice was just as shaky as the smile you offered, stepping to the side a bit and giving the other woman enough room.

You felt bad. Abigail was young, even younger than you. There was no way that she knew. No one really resisted the charms of Natasha Romanoff, anyway, and you knew it. Especially not a wide eyed newbie who was desperate to please on her first mission with the big guys, some of the original Avengers. There was no doubt that she felt terrible based on the way that she didn’t look you in the eye, and how she avoided everyone. There was only one person in the wrong, and it wasn’t this poor girl.

The doors dinged as they reached the bottom, and right before they opened, you smiled at her. “It’s okay,” your voice was a strong whisper. “It’s not your fault.” You gave her one look as you wheeled your suitcase out of the elevator, taking long strides to reach the huge front door of the tower, praying for no more interruptions.

“Y/N!”

You didn’t want to stop at all. You knew who’s commanding voice it was, and stopping to talk didn’t seem like an option. You preferred not to talk to anyone on the team, especially not one of the people who went on the mission. You wiped your cheeks and turned around anyway. “Yes?”

Steve stood before you, a sincere expression on his face as he looked you up and down, your obvious and inevitable departure making him wince. “I’m sorry.”

There was nothing that you could really say to him. He wasn’t the point of your anger and he was a friend, even if he had kept something from you. “You’re not the one who did it.”

“I could have told you.”

“No, she should have, a long time before someone else did. You didn’t do anything wrong.” The story of infidelity that happened was Natasha’s story to tell. While you still felt a little more than bitter about being an idiot in the dark about the whole thing, you would have preferred to hear it from her, one hundred percent. “I’m just pissed I found out after buying the perfect dress and veil and all of it. I was so ready.” You felt like a fool.

“I don’t know why she-”

“I don’t know why, either.” You admitted, shaking your head slowly. “But one day, maybe I’ll figure it out.”

“You’re leaving.” Steve saw it as a closed chapter now that you were storming out. Anyone would, but you knew better. You knew how Natasha worked, you knew how you worked, but most importantly, you knew how you two worked together. “You and Natasha- you and Nat are special. I’ve never seen anything like what you two have in my life, no one has. That’s why we’re all so mad. She ruined the one relationship that everyone obviously knows is true love, for no reason.”

“I know.”

He looked guilty for even saying the words. “You’re not going to try and work it out?”

“Don’t you think that I know what we have is special?” You asked him, new tears welling up in your eyes as you spoke. “I’m leaving this to her because I trust her with it. I don’t forgive her, and maybe I never will, but this is for her to decide.”

“What makes you think that she’ll decide right? Or what she’ll even decide at all?”

“She’ll come back.” You stated with certainty, and these were the first words that hadn’t had a crack or wobble in them since you started talking to the red head. “She’ll miss me and she’ll be over the thrill of whatever happened on the mission, and she’ll find me, wherever I decide to go. She’ll come back to me, just like I would come back to her. It could take weeks or years, but she will. That’s how we work.”

Steve was momentarily stunned, but after a few short moments, you knew that you had convinced him. “And you’re willing to wait for her? However long it takes?”

You lifted your lips at him, even more tears building up in your eyes as your answer flew up to your lips without even thinking. “She’ll come and find out.”

You walked away with heavy steps, already feeling her lingering on your skin, and the haunting memories of the two of you as happy as could be swirling around in your head.

§

You were well aware that removing Natasha from your life would hurt. But you never could have anticipated how much it would hurt.

Natasha was the safety net you never knew you needed. She was the one person on earth who made you feel truly wanted, needed even. She knew everything that you required to feel loved and you knew her just the same, and you both did those things. And that’s what made you two different.

You had been cheated on before. That was how Natasha had met you, actually. Your last boyfriend had cheated on you like the dirty dog he was with nearly every woman he was cute enough to be with for a night, and Natasha met you while you were getting hammered at a bar because you found out. Natasha met you at your lowest point and raised you up with all her might, and still had energy to love you. You felt useless and discarded, thrown under the bed and tossed to the side of the road, but she found you and made you something new. She made you her favorite.

§

Natasha was everywhere.

She was in the way that you made your coffee, because you hated it before you met her, and she introduced you to a kind that you liked. You got as addicted to it as you were to her.

She was in the way that you walked around the park at night instead of in the morning like you did before you met her, because she liked looking at the stars together.

She was in the way that you searched for her next to you in your sleep and when you first woke up. She was in the ring you still had. She was in the way you wrote your letter ‘n’ now, because you wrote her notes for years and always made the ‘n’ fancy just for her. It stuck. She was somehow related to every show and every movie and every brand of ice cream, and from the second week of suffering without her, you knew that she would linger on you like a faded tattoo.

During the third week, you swore that you could smell her perfume, though it made no sense. You had done laundry many times, and all of a sudden the smell popped up, like she was dropping in to spray the perfume and then leaving as soon as she came. The rich smell was something that you would never forget, and it hung around like thick smoke in your mind. You wanted it to leave.

You cursed her name all throughout the fourth week of being alone in your small apartment in Brooklyn. Everything was her fault. The washer broke, Natasha somehow did it. If you woke up with makeup still on your face from the past night, Natasha was at fault.

You went shopping during the sixth week, and you swore you saw flashes of her red hair in the grocery line, pitifully walking faster with your cart to both flee and go towards it. A part of you knew that she would never shop this far out, but you couldn’t help it. You missed her. You missed her a lot.

But that didn’t change that it stung so, so badly.

§

It was disgustingly close to what the wedding date would have been when you were lying in bed with a stray cat that you had managed to nurse back to health and call your own about two weeks prior. In a way, it was freeing. Natasha hated animals. They were a responsibility in her mind, nothing more. You loved the cat quickly, and named him Henry.

There were three sharp knocks on the door that you would have taken for strokes of thunder if they weren’t so close. You frowned and stood up, walking to the window to peak outside and see that there was a thunderstorm rolling through, the wind higher than usual and the rain coming down sideways.

You walked to the door with the small cat trailing behind you like a loyal companion. You cracked a smile when he meowed, and you looked through the peep hole, the bright porch light shocking your eye for a second, and then you saw.

Natasha Romanoff was standing there, soaking wet with her arms hanging at her sides, trembling from the cold.

You took two steps back that startled Henry, causing him to meow louder this time. You breathed in, trying to be quiet, but you knew that she knew you were there. She was so trained that you knew she heard you approaching, and when you took your steps away from the door. You both knew each other were there.

You had indirectly told her to seek you out when she was ready, and here she was.

Were you ready?

Like you were a child trying to eavesdrop, you held your breath as you leaned into the door, putting your ear on it as you struggled to hear something, anything, from her. She wasn’t talking. You looked up into the peephole again, and she was looking at her feet, waiting for something to happen. She knew that you were deciding.

You had spent time looking for her in places you knew she would never be, running to and from things that looked like or reminded you of her, and now the real thing stood in your porch light in the rain. She came back to you.

She came back, but that didn’t erase everything that happened. Not at all. Her two months of fun and new experiences acted as the eraser, painting over everything that they had ever done in black paint. The joy of dancing with her under street lights and kissing in Tony’s limos and her hand under your sweatshirt didn’t amount to the pain it felt when she ripped herself from you.

But why did it hurt so much if they weren’t the same amount of emotion, if not more? If you looked at it with a rational mind, was the joy not worth more than the pain?

The pain weighed like bricks. There was one big brick that weighed half a ton on one scale, nearly tipping the other side.

But the joy? It weighed like clouds, because that’s what joy was. It was the feeling of being above the clouds. And you found that every moment of joy that you had Natasha, even though it was the weight of clouds, still outweighed the fat brick.

But were all of the cloud moments enough to possibly take another brick?

Your hand moved before you knew it, and you were undoing the chain and unlocking the door, yanking it open roughly and staring her down.

She was shocked. Her eyes were wide as she stared at you without any barriers, automatic tears welling up. Had she come all that way to not even know whether or not you would answer? Hell, you had done all of that while in limbo with yourself.

But now, without even knowing how Natasha truly felt, without even hearing one word from her mouth, you knew something changed.

“I knew you’d come back.”

[sparkles-and-trash]

*You, the innocent and foolish person you are, scroll through your tumblr asks not expecting a thing, when suddenly, the screen goes bright white, blinding you. When you blink your eyes open, you understand the meaning behind the existence of this ask. Your brother form a different family had contacted you, from a different time ans space entirely, and you realize... magic exist.*

*Excited more than in your birthday mornings, you read the text*

Hello!

I have searched my ao3 bookmarks for you, my friend, and here is what I came up with. You;ll have to excuse me, because your demands were quite strict and most of these aren't going to hold on all of them, and pretty much more than half of my collection is krbk or baku-centric. But it's okay. Royalty like you should have such high standards.

First, let me suggest to you the must-haves!

Quirk: Knife! by brightredwings. It isn't a ship fic but it does include most of what you listed. Unfortunately, it has the whole Aizawa adopting Shinsou thing but honestly it also includes other characters and it's all slowburn so I don't think you'll mind. It's very long but very, very good. It's another vigilante kinda-fucked-up-in-the head Midoriya fic but it's one of the first I read and it's worth it :)

Call him Cupid by spookyswan. It's a Monoma/Aoyama story! (this was written before the... you know, if you read the manga) It also has some Kaminari/Shinsou! Sometimes you just need to read a rare-ship fanfic... It's very sweet and you should give it a go!

Building a Family: Through Less Than Legal Means by PastelGlitterPen. It has Yamada/Aizawa, which I'm not really sure if you're into, and it has Shinsou getting adopted-- but that's kind of the point of the fic. It's a cute sibling Midoriya, Toga and Shinsou with vigilante/hit-men parents and they're all a few years younger than they are in canon. It's pretty cute.

Mission Parameters Unclear by Vridelian. A Dabi/Hawks fic, wow! They attend UA together and it's very sweet! enemies to friends yadda yadda you should check it out!

TOKOYAMI’S JOURNAL OF PURE DARKNESS (Read at your own risk) by TheWanderers. Tokoyami-centric. Slow updates but it's just *chefs kiss* wholesome and great! Funny stuff surrounding an underrated character.

I didn't realize just how... many. krbk fics I'll have. So I'm obligated to show you my favorite. Don't worry I'll pick ones that are either not ship-centric or that are just very, VERY good, imo!

An Abundance of Penguin Shit by vixensheart. It's long and unfinished but the writing is just so... you don't understand. It's so good. I get bored easily of canon complain fics, especially in high-school. So here they are all grown up, non-quirk and work in an aquarium. It's pretty much very, wholly krbk but you get to learn about animals too??? It's very good and I literally think about it everyday. More than canon, pretty much. Also the rest of this writers fanfics are just as great. very sweet/hurt-comfort and Bakugou's swearing is funny. I beg of you, at least read the first two chapters (yes that's like 20k words but *gets shot*)

*revives, because I'm immortal* The Power of Friendship by deviance. Bakugou makes friends that don't annoy him :) and look at that, it's not really bakusquad based. Haven't read it all but of what I did is great. Gives screentime to the characters who wouldn't otherwise. krbk isn't the main storyline.

Huh. I guess that first one just raises the bar so much for me that I don't have anything else to show you. There are many, but some I fear you might not like and I want you to think I'm cool and stuff.

There are... so many more things I want to tell you but this had been long enough!! And I'll have to tell you in another ask, if you want it. With that said, recommendations, preferably from ao3, are appreciated! I like, as you can guess, kiribaku. haha I also like erasermic, platonic/queer-platonic bkdk, Sero/Kami, any w/w ship honestly cuz we need some. and honestly? some gen bakugou or midoriya is cool too. Please no smut or anything, well anyways!

*the screen turns black, making you confused. When it turns on again, you realize... the power of friendship. Magic is real! And the sky is your limit*

PS. (*AKA a message pops up on your screen, interrupting your whatever is the opposite of a life crisis*) I'm not fucking rereading this shit again so sorry if there are typos and all that. Bye bye now! And sorry it's so long <3

I am losing my mind at all of these amazing recs, I'm gonna be sustained for weeks!!

Brethren thou hath saved me from the tragic demise of searching for fics in the am!

Wanna see some of my favs?? SIKE U GET THEM ANYWAY heheh

Fear of You, by @sleepwalkersqueen

DabiHawks, up until now it's been focused on Hawks and his father, there are Graphic Descriptions of Violence and lots of trauma, but it's also funny, heartwarming and all around amazing! But please read the tags before you go on!

My favorite fic of all time, amazing amazing worldbulding and characters, lots of fan art and comics to go with it, just perfect.

A Path To Recovery, by whathappenedbro

Shoto centric, lots of amazing found family, 1A bonding, Erasermic being dads, and some Tododeku in later chapters!

An Exposé on Childhood Trauma: Hawks Edition, by whathappenedbro

Similar to PoR, but with focus on Hawks! There's only a few chapters so far, but I love it sm, I love seeing the pro's being friends and just... yeah. Also some good erasermic here!

Sweater Weather, by crispykrimi

a Tododeku and Krbk centric series with 10 amazing parts, it's mostly just oh so sweet!

Okay cringe, but I also wrote a DabiHawks college roommates thing, it's called;

(every sky is) Your Own Kind Of Blue

and it's basically just a silly and fluffy roommates to lovers!

I'm also writing The Upheaval AU as a series on here, and I also have a bunch of fics in progress for that, but some of those will include smut, so check the tags before you read!

I would love to talk more, but I literally got to run to my parents' house for dinner, lmao, so yeah, I hope you like some of these, and thanks so insanely much for your recommendations!!!!!

[lollipop1141]

Jingle bells jingle bells jingle bells HI~! (Please imagine im singing this… and in a good voice(‘cuz mine really sucks))

Greetings to you my dear children, it is I Your DCMK secret santa, sliding trough the chimney of your ask box to salute you in this fine evening (morning or night too? here its evening but depending on where you are you can choose the time of the day of that phrase 😅)

So Hi! How are you? How was this week? I hope everything has been great!

Here its raining roasted ducks! It is so hot! And my office doesn’t have ac 😅💔, but everything is going well aside from that! I have been working on your gift and i hope it turns out nice! I really hope you’ll like it.

Also! After reading your favorite ships and tropes i got really exited because we share a lot of interest so i have two questions for you!

1) Did you perhaps write the fanfic about Shinichi and Aoko as ladybug and chat noir?

2) Do you have a list of your favorite fics? (If you do i would also love if you can share it and tell what you like about them too i enjoy reading that sort of things and it will also give me some ideas for your gift)

I hope you have a nice upcoming week and that you don’t freeze to death (tbh i would love to be freezing so i envy you a little rn 😅)

With much love ✨

Your DCMK secret FlipflopsTropical Santa🤶🏻🔥☀️

Hiii Santa!! I wish i could bring you some of the coldness here and we can switch 😆😅

Woohoo I'm excited for my gift!! Sadly, I did not write the fic where Shinichi and Aoko are Ladybug and Chat Noir 😅 but I did write a crossover fic where Conan met up with Adrien and helped out with the akuma (all the while freaking out as to why magic and superheroes are real lmaoo)

2. Omgg why do this to mee I can't choose!!

Okay here goes:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27446839 : so this is a fic of the Conan/Shinichi-Detective Boys dynamic and I've always loved how Shinichi is protective of the kids and how much they love each other and seriously, I just want to see them all have a happy ending post canon 🥺🥹

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13969899?view_adult=true : florist au. Need I say more? Yes. Gosh Kaito and Hakuba's back and forth of spite is so funny and I love Kaito teasing Aoko and then being all jelly and Aoko just so clueless about it 🤣

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26132257 : THISSSS!!! UNREQUITED LOVE! SLOW BURN! SHARED LIVING SPACE! GOSH

https://m.fanfiction.net/s/12507012/1/Who-s-that-Guy : Heiji being his clueless self is just *chef's kiss* and add some kendo there and gosh yes!!

https://m.fanfiction.net/s/11167430/1/That-Little-Traitor : Conan being a brat and getting "Heiji nii-chan" in trouble will never grow old 🤣🤣

https://m.fanfiction.net/s/7617082/1/Somewhere-Green : this is on my top 3 most favorite Heizuha fics and it just shows how much Heiji really cares for Kazuha and shows an interesting "what if" on a different couple

https://m.fanfiction.net/s/2905018/1/30-Hugs-Heiji-and-Kazuha : this series!!! I love it!!! Especially the last fic (tho some parts are pretty ooc) but the hurt/comfort is so satisfying

https://m.fanfiction.net/s/12175204/1/One-step-at-a-time : this one will never grow old on me 🤣 just their banter is so hilarious and their comfortable distance which Kazuha is oblivious about while Heiji is just 🌟 suffering 🌟

The fics are in no particular order 😆 I just save them randomly in ao3 and ff. As you can see there's little to no Shinran cuz I have yet to warm up to fanfics of the two ((also, Shnichi is just soo sappy i can't--I think I'd survive better with canon material and fanart cuz we've plenty of those around 🤣))

I hope your hot Christmas gets a little cooler!! Looking forward to hearing from you!!

For the meantime, have some snow ❄️❄️❄️

[theartofdreaming1]

Katniss, Peeta, and Haymitch are slowly becoming a proper team! No more secrets! (for the most part)

As usual, my thoughts regarding this week’s prompts and (many) random thoughts on chapters 4-6 are below the cut.

heart

Losing that comfort of sleeping in each other’s arms after the Victory Tour must have been hard for Katniss and Peeta! Up until Katniss hurts her ankle, they probably didn’t really do much about it, just trying to make it through on their own... After she hurt her ankle and Peeta’s spending more time over at her place, I can easily imagine him staying over, at least until she’s fallen asleep, which might help a little... Since they are living only three houses apart from each other, I like to imagine that they can see each other’s bedroom windows from their bedroom (how else would Katniss know that Peeta sleeps with the windows open? I can’t really imagine that they would be able to open the windows of the train they were on - y’know, for “safety reasons” (i.e. making sure nobody can escape)); maybe they’d both light a candle and put it by their window, as a signal they are going to sleep... It’s not the same, but it helps a little 

mind

I mean, aside from the systemic rigging of the reaping system (i.e. poorer people generally having more entries, so they can have some food), I can easily imagine there being a manipulation of the “odds” when someone becomes too vocal or troublesome for the local authorities, such as someone trying to unionize a district’s workforce, for example

soul

In the districts, their impact has to be big - their win alone was a huge defiance of the Games as they used to be... sticking together and sticking up for each other ultimately led to them defeating the Capitol’s rules! In-between the Games and the Victory Tour I don’t think there was much noteworthy going on (although maybe the fact that, so far, none of the new victors’ loved ones had been hurt - Prim, Mrs. E., but also Gale and his family would be visible during the celebrations, I’m sure, same probably goes for the Mellark’s - might tell the people in the district that Snow and his cronies were aware of the attention any assassination attempt would gather and that this, in turn, might actually could become the last straw that would spark a revolution. In a way, that was proof that the people on top were at least a little afraid of what the people in the districts would do...) And then, especially during the visit of D11, with Katniss expressing her thanks and Peeta reaching out to share their winnings with the people from D11, another district than their own - it must have provided a lot of inspiration, I’m sure. 

As for the Capitolites, maybe some of them would notice for once how unhappy/riled up the people in some of the districts were... or at least stop to think about how this time, a show of love and companionship actually provided more “entertainment” and intrigue than the brutal gore and bloodshed from previous Games (also, longer lasting - there is actually much more “story” to be had from the star-crossed lovers from D12 than from any individual winner of previous Games, if you think about it... Their “love story” is still on-going, with an upcoming wedding and the promise of a family... it’s still creepy and voyeuristic as hell, though)

Chapter 4

Everything he [Haymitch] said was true about the Capitol’s expectations, my future with Peeta, even his last comment. Of course, I could do a lot worse than Peeta. That isn’t really the point, though, is it? One of the few freedoms we have in District 12 is the right to marry who we want or not marry at all. And now even that has been taken away from me. - God, this sucks so much! As Katniss rightly points out, her misery isn’t about Peeta at all - it’s about her (and also his, just pointing that out) agency being taken away! She’s being stripped even of that little sliver of agency that inhabitants of D12 usually have (choice of whom to marry, or whether to marry at all)

I wonder if President Snow will insist we have children. - Eugh, just the idea of Snow being the one to have the last word on that subject... 🤢 The invasion of privacy here... - The only person who should get to decide whether Katniss should have children or not is Katniss herself! Period!

My mind searches frantically for a way out. I can’t let President Snow condemn me to this. Even if it means taking my own life. Before that, though, I’d try to run away. - Boy, Katniss is even contemplating taking her own life, rather than to submit to the life the Capitol wants to force on her; it’s not her first choice (she’d rather run away), but it shows the desperation she’s feeling

Could I even manage to take everyone I love with me, start a new life deep in the wild? Highly unlikely but not impossible. - Later we will see that Peeta and Haymitch also belong into the category of “people Katniss loves” 😊(as well as her family, Gale, and his fam, of course)

“And Peeta’s team is probably still asleep.” “Doesn’t he need prepping?” I ask. “Not the way you do,” Effie replies. What does this mean? It means I get to spend the morning having the hair ripped off my body while Peeta sleeps in. I hadn’t thought about it much, but in the arena at least some of the boys got to keep their body hair whereas none of the girls did. - Gotta love that everlasting sexism that, even far into the future, still won’t allow women to have frickin’ body hair (y’know, like most humans do 🙄)

I can remember Peeta’s now, as I bathed him by the stream. Very blond in the sunlight, once the mud and blood had been washed away. Only his face remained completely smooth. Not one of the boys grew a beard, and many were old enough to. I wonder what they did to them. - Katniss seems to have committed every single detail about Peeta to her memory, including how his body hair looked when she cleaned him in the last Games... okay 👀😏 On a more somber note, what is it that the Capitol is doing to these poor kids?! The boys couldn’t grow beards and - I’m assuming - the girls wouldn’t get their periods while in the arena (since the Games can last for weeks, it would be a huge disadvantage if any of the girls also had to content with cramps + periods  - aside from worrying about getting murdered, I mean); it’s such a violation of one’s autonomy over one’s own body, yikes

Flavius tilts up my chin and sighs. “It’s a shame Cinna said no alterations on you.” “Yes, we could really make you something special,” says Octavia. “When she’s older,” says Venia almost grimly. “Then he’ll have to let us.” - Eeek, no thanks!😦 And frankly, it really shouldn’t be Cinna’s call to make but, y’know, Katniss’s!!! I don’t know, I get real panick-y just reading this exchange (I have never even gotten my ears pierced - my mom wouldn’t let them be pierced until I could make my own decision on that subject matter and as someone with skin issues and bad experiences with needles, I really don’t feel the need to have any unnecessary metal inserted into my body, so... I’m good)

His [Peeta’s] apology takes me by surprise. It’s true that Peeta froze me out after I confessed that my love for him during the Game was something of an act. But I don’t hold it against him. [...] “I’m sorry, too,” I say. [...] “There’s nothing for you to be sorry about. You were keeping us alive.” - That apology of Peeta’s... *chef’s kiss*; it was totally understandable that Peeta was upset and needed some time apart from Katniss after her confession, which had caught him completely by surprise, not even Katniss blames him for that... But his apology shows that he really made use of their time apart to work out his emotions and to reflect on both their situations - that’s some emotional maturity to be envious of! Plus, his apology is a good move to get their communication channel opened up again

It would be nice if he’d come to me with this earlier, before I knew that President Snow had other plans and just being friends was not an option for us anymore. But either way, I’m glad we’re speaking again. - Come on, Katniss, cut this boy some slack! He can’t read minds - how is he supposed to know about these things if you don’t tell him anything? It’s nice that you’re glad that you guys are on speaking terms again, but communication isn’t a one-way street, y’know?

I remember the tiger lily cookie and, now that Peeta is talking to me again, it’s all I can do not to recount the whole story about President Snow. But I know Haymitch wouldn’t want me to. I’d better stick to small talk. - Katniss really should have listened to her instincts here - Haymitch might have a better idea of how the Games/Capitol works, but he knows little about teamwork, which is an important factor in their specific (and unprecedented!) situation; I’m not blaming Katniss for relying on her mentor here, but this entire approach is going to crash and burn in the next chapter

It’s good to feel his fingers entwined with mine again, not for show but in actual friendship. We walk back to the train hand in hand. - Not to say that you can’t have friendships where you frequently hold hands - you totally can - but it is noteworthy that I don’t think I can recall Katniss holding hands with any of her other friends... (somehow, I can’t really picture Katniss holding hands with Gale casually like that... nor with Madge or Finnick later on) 

At the door, I remember, “I’ve got to apologize to Effie first.” “Don’t be afraid to lay it on thick,” Peeta tells me.- There is something about this exchange that speaks to me... maybe because it reads like some sort of an inside joke between them? Or because it shows that, despite being on good terms with Effie, Peeta’s totally aware of how high-maintenance/over the top Effie is... I dunno ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Peeta has painted the Games. Some you wouldn’t get right away, if you hadn’t been with him in the arena yourself. Water dripping through the cracks in our cave. The dry pond bed. [...] Others any viewer would recognize. The golden horn called the Cornucopia. [...] And me. I am everywhere. [...] “What do you think?” he asks. “I hate them,” I say. I can almost smell the blood, the dirt, the unnatural breath of the mutt. - These are the pieces Peeta meant to exhibit in the Capitol, right? I wonder if he hoped that these paintings of his impressions/memories of the Games might actually connect with some Capitolites and might even move them to feel some empathy for the Tributes? Maybe he hoped that they would be more receptive for that kind of thing if he packaged it in art?

“All I do is go around trying to forget the arena and you’ve brought it back to life. How do you remember these things so exactly?” “I see them every night,” he says. [...] “Me too. Does it help? To paint them out?” “I don’t know. I think I’m a little less afraid of going to sleep at night, or I tell myself I am,” he says. “But they haven’t gone anywhere.” - I do wonder, whether and how painting out these moments could have therapeutic value for Peeta - on the one hand, the act of painting out specific intrusions/flashbacks might be helpful because he’d end up focusing on the more technical side of painting, y’know? Focussing on mixing the right shade of a certain color might help create some emotional distance from the moment itself... also, since painting usually takes some time, Peeta would actually spend a considerable amount of time facing these moments head on, rather than trying to avoid them (avoidance tends to increase the frequency of flashback/intrusions) and maybe spending so much time on them could also help him contextualize them within the broader narrative of his life, which is the basic principle behind Narrative Exposure Therapy, which is said to be pretty effective at treating PTSD... just my two cents

I can’t believe the size of District 11. “How many people do you think live here?” Peeta asks. I shake my head. In school they refer to it as a large district, that’s all. No actual figures on the population. - Perfect example of how tightly the Capitol controls the information the people in the districts have about the other districts... which is basically nothing. Let’s keep them in the dark so they are less likely to connect with each other and band together...

Cinna comes in with a pretty orange frock patterned with autumn leaves. I think how much Peeta will like the color. - Lol, Katniss bringing everything back to Peeta because she definitely hasn’t a crush on the guy, I see 😉

And then he [Peeta] hesitates before adding something that wasn’t written on the card. Maybe because he thought Effie might make him remove it. “It can in no way replace your losses, but as a token of our thanks we’d like for each of the tributes’ families from District Eleven to receive one month of our winnings every year for the duration of our lives.” - Peeta, the rebel! Talk about an act of radical kindness! I’m so proud of him. But also, I think this is another excellent example of how he and Katniss are on the same wavelength (this took me some time to find, but here you go): I silently say good-bye to Thresh and thank him for my life. I promise to remember him and, if I can, do something to help his family and Rue’s, if I win. (Ch. 23, THG)

I look at Peeta and he gives me a sad smile. I hear Haymitch’s voice. “You could do a lot worse.” At this moment, it’s impossible to imagine how I could do any better. The gift... it is perfect. So when I rise up on tiptoe to kiss him, it doesn’t seem forced at all. - Peeta: does anything that exemplifies his sense of morality; Katniss: *swoons* - but honestly, it is so beautiful how Katniss is so attracted to Peeta’s goodness and kind heart - it also tells us a lot about her (she is quite pure, as Peeta will point out later in this book) and what she values

“Wait, please.” I don’t know how to start, but once I do, the words rush from my lips as if they’ve been forming in the back of my mind for a long time. - And then Katniss launches into one of her spontaneous, heart-felt, and inspiring speeches/acts, expressing her thanks, sympathy, and a sense of kinship with people beyond the borders of her district, beyond the superficial barriers the Capitol has been trying to maintain in order to weaken the ‘common folk‘ and keep the exploitation going

The full impact of what I’ve done hits me. It was not intentional - I only meant to express my thanks - but I have elicited something dangerous. An act of dissent from the people of District 11. - Again, Katniss has done something that will solidify her as a symbol of the revolution without intending to do so and that’s the point, I think - she inspires people through her genuine displays of caring for others (which, in Panem, is already rebellious on its own)

Chapter 5

“We’re going!” says Peeta, shoving the Peacekeeper who’s pressing on me. “We get it, all right? Come on, Katniss.” His arm encircles me and guides me back into the Justice Building. - Protective Peeta! Also, I think it’s interesting to note the wording of Peeta’s arms “encircling” Katniss and then “guiding” her - his arms surround her, and he’s leading her away from harm (at least to the extent that is in his power - can’t really be safe from harm in Panem, can you?), but it doesn’t seem smothering or oppressive  to Katniss in any way -”guide” has more of a connotation of giving direction without force, imo; in contrast, when Katniss talked about her kiss with Gale she mentions she’d never imagined how those hands [...] could as easily entrap me. (Ch. 2, CF); granted, these are two very different situations - the phrasing just stood out to me

“What happened?” Effie hurries over. “We lost the feed just after Katniss’s beautiful speech, and then Haymitch said he thought he heard gun fire, and I said it was ridiculous, but who knows? There are lunatics everywhere!” - Very telling how a clueless Capitolite like Effie wouldn’t register the rebellious aspect of Katniss’s speech; by keeping the Capitolites in the depths of sweet, sweet ignorance while simultaneously harshly trying to curb any spark of rebellion by cutting off the feed, the government is actually drawing the attention of the ignorant Capitolites to the act of rebellion itself (and also letting the people in the districts know that there was something censor-worthy going on); kind of shooting themselves in the foot here

As far as I know, Haymitch has only been here once, when he was on his Victory Tour decades ago. But he must have a remarkable memory or reliable instincts, because he leads us up through a maze of twisting staricases and increasingly narrow halls. [...] Eventually we climb a ladder to a trapdoor. When Haymitch pushes it aside, we find ourselves in the dome of the Justice Building. - I wonder how Haymitch has come to know this part of the Justice Building? Has he been to District 11 more often than Katniss supposes (he is friends with Chaff, after all), did his mentor take him there for some private conversation, or was there a moment during Haymitch’s Victory Tour where he felt so overwhelmed by feelings of guilt and powerlessness that he fled to the most desolate, solitary place he could find?

“I was supposed to fix things on this tour. [...] Calm things down. But obviously, all I’ve done today is get three people killed, and now everyone in the square will be punished.” I feel so sick that I have to sit down on a couch, despite the exposed springs and stuffing. - Obviously, all of this is awful and no one - especially a traumatized, 16-year old girl - should have to suffer carrying such a burden... But also, here we see one of the downsides of Katniss taking sole responsibility for everything - she totally forgot that Peeta might feel responsible too, only that he didn’t even know what’s at stake - which leads us to-

“Then I made things worse, too. By giving the money,” says Peeta. Suddenly he strikes out at a lamp that sits precariously on a crate and knocks it across the room, where it shatters against the floor. “This has to stop. Right now. This - this - game you two play, where you tell each other secrets but keep them from me like I’m too inconsequential or stupid or weak to handle them.”"It's not like that, Peeta-" I begin. "It's exactly like that!" he yells at me. - When kind, gentle Peeta’s mad, you know shit has hit the fan 😳 But also, being passed over/kept out of the loop seems to hit pretty close to home for Peeta (while I would like to know what his home life looked like before the Games, I have to admit that at this point, I’m somewhat afraid I might not be able to handle the truth...). I just think this scene is an important moment that leads to an end of (most of) their detrimental secrecy (hello end-of-CF-Haymitch!) and establishes their little team as such (hence the drawing)

“You’re always so reliably good, Peeta,” says Haymitch. “So smart about how you present yourself before the cameras. I didn’t want to disrupt that.” “Well, you overestimated me. Because I really screwed up today.” - Remember the last time someone overestimated Peeta (Foxface and the berries)? That ended in someone’s death as well... And, Haymitch? ‘Never assume’ applies to you, too!

“Do you think I gave them [Rue’s and Thresh’s families] a bright future? Because I think they’ll be lucky if they survive the day!” Peeta sends something else flying, a statue. I’ve never seen him like this. - Considering that his rebellious act of kindness is now threatening to become a sword of Damocles, hanging over those towards which he wanted to extend his kindness - simply because he’s been kept out of the loop (again)- Peeta’s anger is quite understandable

“Look, boy-” Haymitch begins. “Don’t bother, Haymitch. I know you had to choose one of us. And I’d have wanted it to be her. But this is something different. People are dead out there. More will follow unless we’re very good.” - Peeta doesn’t really care if it’s just his life on the line, but if other people’s lives are at risk? He takes no shit (it’s admirable in one way and deeply concerning in another); also, Peeta is right - while there still is a game to play, it’s not the Games, so different circumstances and rules apply

“From now on, you’ll be fully informed,” Haymitch promises. “I better be,” says Peeta. - Peeta generally is a very cooperative fellow, but don’t ever think he can’t be forceful and stand his ground when it matters!

“Did you choose me, Haymitch?” I ask. “Yeah,” he says. “Why? You like him better,” I say. “That’s true. But remember, until they changed the rules, I could only hope to get one of you out of there alive,” he says. “I thought since he was determined to protect you, well, between the three of us, we might be able to bring you home.” “Oh,” is all I can think to say. - This is such a quiet, sweet moment and also shows that Katniss, Haymitch and Peeta have been some sort of team from the start (also, in their team effort they actually managed to get the both of them back home!)

Everything is happening too fast for me to process it. The warning, the shootings, the recognition that I may have set something of great consequence in motion. The whole thing is so improbable. And it would be one thing if I had planned to stir things up, but given the circumstances... how on earth did I cause so much trouble? - Lol, you’re giving yourself a little too much credit here, Katniss ;) Frankly, the Capitol has been the one to create this powder-keg they are sitting on in the first place - all it needed was a little spark... All these injustices, the humilitation, the pain inflicted... it’s like an elastic rubber band that’s been stretched and stretched - until it snaps

“I’m something of an expert in architectural design, you know?” “Oh yes, I’ve heard that,” says Portia before the pause gets too long. - Bless Portia’s heart, making sure they avoid that awkward silence 😂

Effie looks so distressed that I spontaneously give her a hug. “That’s awful, Effie. Maybe we shouldn’t go to the dinner at all. At least until they’ve apologized.” - Aww, Katniss doing something nice for Effie!😊

Peeta and I join hands. “Haymitch says I was wrong to yell at you. You were only operating under his instructions,” says Peeta. “And it isn’t as if I haven’t kept things from you in the past.” - Peeta sorta apologizing, even acknowledging that he also had kept secrets from Katniss? We love to see it👍 - [...] “I think I broke a few things myself after that interview.” “Just an urn,” he says. - Peetaaa... stop diminishing your own physical injuries! Good thing that Katniss won’t let him: - “And your hands. There’s no point to it anymore though, is there? Not being straight with each other?” I say. “No point,” says Peeta. - Gasp! Honest, open communication as a good basis for a successful relationship? It’s more likely than you think!

“Was that really the only time you kissed Gale?” I’m so startled I answer. “Yes.” With all that has happened today, has that question actually been preying on him? - Peeta, you sly dog! Your priorities 😂

Some crowds have the weary-cattle feel that I know District 12 usually projects at the victors’ ceremonies. But in others - particularly 8, 4, and 3 - there is genuine elation in the faces of the people at the sight of us, and under the elation, fury. - I do think that it’s interesting how D4 is one of the districts being elated to see Peeta + Katniss and displaying such fury, despite being a Career district; just goes to show that, just because their odds are better at winning the Games, doesn’t have to make them more simpatico with the Capitol’s cruelty... (Considering how Finnick knows how to perform CPR, it’s highly likely that people in D4 are also used to awful and precarious working + living situations... maybe that’s exactly why they generally are so robust and do well in the Games; and maybe they are simply not that above joining the other Careers as long as it improves their chances of survival, like Katniss or Thresh had been... worked for a while for Peeta, too)

Effie starts giving me pills to sleep, but they don’t work. [...] Peeta, who spends much of the night roaming the train, hears me screaming as I struggle to break out of the haze of drugs that merely prolong the horrible dreams. He manages to wake me and calm me down. Then he climbs into bed to hold me until I fall back to sleep. After that, I refuse the pills. But every night I let him into my bed. We manage the darkness as we did in the arena, wrapped in each other’s arms. - 😭 Also: Very telling how Capitolite Effie just throws pills at the problem (with the best of intentions, I’m sure), which is an immediate, unpersonal, and superficial solution at best, whereas Peeta holding Katniss, offering comfort, understanding, a sense of safety, and human connection is so much more personal, intimate, and effective (for both of them!)

I personally killed the girl, Glimmer, and the boy from District 1. As I try to avoid looking at his family, I learn that his name was Marvel. How did I never know that? - You know why, Katniss -  I suppose that before the Games I didn’t pay attention and afterward I didn’t want to know. - Still, not knowing his name didn’t stop you from humanizing him, Katniss, and that’s important, too

Whatever we do seems too little, too late. Back in our old quarters in the Training Center, I’m the one who suggests the public marriage proposal. Peeta agrees to do it but then disappears to his room for a long time. Haymitch tells me to leave him alone. “I thought he wanted it, anyway,” I say. “Not like this,” Haymitch says. “He wanted it to be real.” - Come on, Katniss, don’t be so callous; Peeta’s just as much of a prisoner here as you! Also, it’s all about being real or not real with these two, isn’t it?

Chapter 6

... you would think that at this moment, I would be in utter despair. Here’s what’s strange. The main thing I feel is a sense of relief. That I can give up this game. [...] That if desperate times call for desperate measures, then I am free to act as desperately as I wish. - Honestly, I think it was pretty short-sighted of Snow to let Katniss know so clearly that she didn’t succeed in her task; she did her utmost and it wasn’t enough - might as well fling caution to the wind now. All bets are off. If there had been still some small chance she could have ‘made things right’, she probably would have been trying harder to comply to his expectations. (I’m sure Snow thought the upcoming implementations of his stricter regime would be enough to keep Katniss in check, but pride comes before a fall ¯\_(ツ)_/¯)

It’s essential to get back to District 12, because the main part of any plan will include my mother and sister, Gale and his family. And Peeta, If I can get him to come with us. I add Haymitch to the list. - For such a ‘loner’, Katniss sure has a lot of people that are important to her... And how ironic that Peeta, who she isn’t sure she’ll be able to convince in following her will be a much more willing participant that Gale, who Katniss is pretty much banking on joining her

“You’ll probably have to pass a new law,” I say with a giggle. “If that’s what it takes,” says the president with conspiratorial good humor. Oh the fun we two have together. - The dynamic between Snow and Katniss is so strange; despite the obvious antagonism there is definitely some vibe of interacting with each other at eye level and it’s weird (Sidenote: Is there any law in Panem preventing minors from marrying?)

“I want to taste everything in the room, “ I tell Peeta. [...] “Then you’d better pace yourself,” he says. “Okay, not more than one bite of each dish,” I say. My resolve is almost immediately broken at the first table, which has twenty or so soups - couldn’t have happened to me; I hate soup (like, thick soups I maaaybe can get behind, but clear soup/broth is just flavored water to me, no thanks - then again, I’m a picky eater)

Peeta and I make no effort to find company but are constantly sought out. We are what no one wants to miss at the party. I act delighted, but I have zero interest in these Capitol people. They are only distractions from the food. - Well isn’t that a mood for every social gathering ever (one person I enjoy talking to and lots of food I like? Perfect.)

I pick up a small roasted bird, bite into it, and my tongue floods with orange sauce. Delicious. But I make Peeta eat the remainder because I want to keep tasting things - Katniss seems to like the combination of meat and fruit, huh? (the lamb and plums, now bird and orange sauce) Personally, it’s a combination that’s on thin ice for me; there are only a few dishes with that component I actually like and it took me forever to tolerate them (I don’t know if it’s the texture or the taste, but something makes me apprehensive about it); anyway, Katniss making Peeta eat the rest is such a casual, couple-y thing to do (or at least something you do with someone you feel very comfortable with, I think)

Peeta looks at the glass again and puts it together. “You mean this will make me puke?” My prep team laughs hysterically. “Of course, so you can keep eating,” says Octavia. “I’ve been in there twice already. Everyone does it, or else how would you have any fun at a feast?” I’m speechless, staring at the pretty little glasses and all they imply. - Oh boy, I have a lot of thoughts on this part: A) I just noticed how this is the second delicate/fancy glass/drink that’s bringing about a jarring revelation: first that orange juice with the frilly straw in THG, now these tiny wine-stemmed glasses, B) “Everyone does it” + “how else would you have fun?” are the shittiest reasons I’ve ever heard at a party for doing something stupid you probably don’t want to do (I’m having flashbacks to all the times I had people trying to pressure me into drinking alcohol as a teen - it was even legal, btw - although I insisted that I didn’t like the taste (which I still don’t, to this day); it was tiresome 😑), C) “everyone does it” - the people in the Capitol must have some messed up teeth if that’s a regular occurence (sure, they probably bleach their teeth all the time, but also... they’d really need to, D) the obvious: how effed up that they just puke to stuff in more food when in the districts people literally are dying from starvation?! (and yeah, unequal distribution of resources sadly isn’t just a thing in Panem, I know... but there is something about actively purging yourself just for funsies that’s just extra, well, sick)

All I can think of is the emaciated bodies of the children on our kitchen table as my mother prescribes what the parents cannot give. More food. - God, how awful! How powerless they must feel 😟

And here in the Capitol they’re vomiting for the pleasure of filling their bellies again and again. Not from some illness of body or mind, not from spoiled food. - Ooh, I’ve never noticed before how this passage not only recognizes physical reasons for purging, but also mental reasons! Wouldn’t have necessarily expected Katniss to acknowledge eating disorders like that, tbh... She has become a lot more cognizant and sensitive when mental health issues are concerned

One day when I dropped by to give Hazelle the game, Vick was home sick with a bad cough [...] he still spent about fifteen minutes talking about how they’d opened a can of corn syrup from Parcel Day and each had a spoonful on bread and were going to maybe have more later in the week. How Hazelle had said he could have a bit in a cup of tea to soothe his cough, but he wouldln’t feel right unless the others had some, too. - Aww, Vick is such a sweetheart! Hazelle is raising her kids right!

“Peeta, they bring us here to fight to the death for their entertainment,”I say. “Really, this is nothing by comparison.” “I know. I know that. It’s just sometimes I can’t stand it anymore. To the point where... I’m not sure what I’ll do.” He pauses, then whispers, “Maybe we were wrong, Katniss.” “About what?” I ask. “About trying to subdue things in the districts,” he says. - Peeta’s rebellious nature coming through again!

“Sorry,” he says. He should be. This is no place to be voicing such thoughts. “Save it for home,” I tell him. - I know Katniss means D12, but her phrasing of “home” evokes a more domestic, couple-y connotation again 😊

I don’t want to dance with Plutarch Heavensbee. I don’t want to feel his hands, one resting against mine, one on my hip. I’m not used to being touched, except by Peeta or my family, and I rank Gamemakers somewhere below maggots in terms of creatures I want in contact with my skin. - It’s telling that, while Katniss is not big on being touched aside from her family (does that include Gale? probably? although they hadn’t even really hugged until Katniss had been reaped, so... I dunno), she’s totally fine with Peeta touching her (more than that: remember how good she felt holding his hand again in Ch.4 and how she’s feeling safe in his arms when they are sharing a bed), it says a lot about how comfortable she feels around him

Plutarch steps back and pulls out a gold watch on a chain from a vest pocket. He flips open the lid, sees the time, and frowns. “I’ll have to be going soon.” He turns the watch so I can see the face. “It starts at midnight.” - Honestly, this very subtle hint/foreshadowing of the clock setup of the Quarter Quell arena is simply brilliant! And also, midnight is going to become an important point in time as well from here on out (lightning tree, in the hanging tree song, saving Peeta and the others from the Training Center in the Capitol)

It’s another mockingjay. Exactly like the pin on my dress. Only this one disappears. He snaps the watch closed. “That’s very pretty,” I say. “Oh, it’s more than pretty. It’s one of a kind,” he says. - The disappearing mockingjay on the clock is interesting because A) Plutarch can’t really be flaunting the symbol of rebellion as Head Gamemaker, duh, but also B) the clock arena will be the place where the Mockingjay will disappear (until the rebellion will be able to use her for their cause); and that last comment by Plutarch clearly is aimed at the Mockingjay (Katniss) herself

When I open my eyes, it’s early afternoon. My head rests on Peeta’s arm. I don’t remember him coming in last night. - Okay, Katniss must feel hella safe and used to Peeta joining her in her bed, because apparently she didn’t even wake up when he did, like... I’m a fairly heavy sleeper, but I can’t imagine sleeping so deeply that I wouldn’t jerk awake if someone crawled into my bed while I was snoozing

“No nightmare,” he says. “What?” I ask. “You didn’t have any nightmares last night,” he says. He’s right. For the first time in ages I’ve slept through the night. - Telling how the first time Katniss sleeps through the night is after Snow let her know her performance wasn’t enough; she’s must have been so tense and on edge, desperately trying to calm down the districts and convince Snow, that she hadn’t been able to sleep properly, aside from the obvious sleeping issues she’d have from the PTSD (I’m often that way before an important exam - especially if it’s an oral exam; I get tense just thinking about it 😓)

“I had a dream, though,” I say, thinking back. “I was following a mockingjay though the woods. For a long time. It was Rue, really. I mean, when it sang, it had her voice.” “Where did she take you?” he says, brushing my hair off my forehead. “I don’t know. We never arrived,” I say. “But I felt happy.” - Interesting how in Katniss’s dream, the mockingjay is Rue - lending further credence to the hypothesis that maybe Rue was originally meant to be the Mockingjay (would make Plutarch’s comment of the mockingjay being “one of a kind” a bit more hypocritical/exaggerated/dramatized, which still fits with his flair for propaganda/showmanship... and ultimately, Katniss as the Mockingjay was unique, but that doesn’t mean that the rebellion couldn’t have made someone else their symbol if they needed to); also, Peeta brushing Katniss’s hair off her forehead is so sweet and intimate 😊

After I got home, we [Madge and I] started spending time together. [...] It was a little awkward at first because we didn’t know what to do. Other girls our age, I’ve heard them talking about boys, or other girls, or clothes. Madge and I aren’t gossipy and clothes bore me to tears. But after a few false starts, I realized she was dying to go into the woods, so I’ve taken her a couple of times and showed her how to shoot. She’s trying to teach me the piano, but mostly I like to listen to her play. - Honestly? I’d love to read a fanfic about Katniss and Madge figuring out their friendship (let me know if there already are some!); it’s cute how they end up including each other in their hobbies 😊 Ah, the classic “I’m/We’re not like other girls”, which often is especially prevalent during your teen years (I’d be lying if I said that I haven’t been gulty of this in my past 😅)... Katniss might actually would have benefited from talking with Madge about her boys’ troubles, though... And it’s so funny how Katniss admits that she has no interest in clothes, despite it being her supposed “talent”, while she also admits that she does admire Cinna’s work

... there’s a mob scene. The square’s packed with screaming people, their faces hidden with rags and homemade masks, throwing bricks. Building burn. Peacekeepers shoot into the crowd, killing at random. I’ve never seen anything like it - I... I have. At least on tv... In different places, at different times, but... yeah...

[heymacy]

Good morning, Macy! I’m here to ask you, what is your favorite trope to see our boys in? Do you have a top 5? Do you have one trope you favor over all others? Ones you absolutely cannot stand? Ones that hold a special place in your heart? Let me know! Have a great day!💜

good afternoon chey! i've seen this ask going around and it's been so interesting seeing what people's favorites are and which tropes/themes are on people's "oh no no" lists! here are mine:

hurt/comfort — i think this might be one of my favorites of all time. it’s so true to character for them. both physical and emotional pain are such a huge part of their story in canon so to see that pain/relief moment in a fic is just chef’s motherfucking kiss

angst — i love to suffer. i’m a masochist at heart and while i don’t love the idea of my babies hurting, i love watching them climb out of that hole. it’s such a satisfying thing to experience as a reader and it’s hard to execute, so when i find a fic with really good angst, i’m hooked

enemies to lovers — ohhhhh baby. gimme gimme. i want that knife-to-the-throat anger, that family rivalry beat, that “fuck you” “no, fuck you” “okay” vibe. friends to lovers is fine, strangers to lovers is great, but enemies to lovers? inject that shit directly into my veins

found family — this one fucks a bitch up. it’s me, i’m the bitch. as someone that has a tricky relationship with her family, found family is very important to me in fics and in real life. especially for these two. found family is at the heart of shameless and i think that’s something a lot of people forget sometimes, so i love love love when fics bring that to life

AUs — give me all the AUs. i want to watch them fall in love in every possible way in every possible universe under every possible set of circumstances. i know this isn’t a trope per se, but i’m counting it. hand ‘em over. show me your world-building chops. chances are i’m gonna eat that shit up

as far as my “oh no no” list, i have a few:

BDSM PwP with zero aftercare — like.....WHY?

i would like incest & mpreg fics to stay as far away from me as possible

Y/N fics make my skin crawl, i simply cannot self-insert at that level

i can’t read fics where the boys cheat on each other with other people (not in an ORFNSP-type way, that’s totally different)

i don’t fuck with a/b/o (i know this is super popular in like, every single fandom right now, and i’m SO insanely happy for y’all, but i just can’t do it!)

thank you for sending this and for giving all of us an opportunity to think about our favorite fics and tropes — this was really fun!!

[hebescus]

guess what? more fic recs!

i dig the lawlight tag and well, here are some fics i read this week or so + a couple fics i like that i haven't mention previously.

offer me my deathless death. the only multichap we got here. why no one told me this fic exists earlier huh? this shit is AMAZING like, i usually dislike vampires but THIS, this is something else. and you know i love reincarnation soulmate-y fic. idk if the ending is actually unpredictable or i'm just pessimistic thanks to the sadness it gave me the first few chapters, but it's sooo good you won't be dissapointed.

now let's go to our emotional support oneshots :

how did honeycombe lover isn't popular is beyond me. found this gem few days ago and oh my fuck you know how i feel about sleepy fluff right? do i ever mention i also love 'how did we end up here' fluff? yeah, this shit is 10/10.

remaster. i dodged this fic multiple times before and i don't even know why bcs this shit is pretty entertaining. the end pretty funny, lawlight is a comedic duo and i had a great time reading this.

depuis que tu m'aimes. giusi wrote this one inspired by my little hc, yall have no idea how excited i was abt this one. just,,,go read it holy shit it's soooo good. Especially for my fellow yearning light fan. Also i really reccomend listening to the song while reading bcs OUCH

have i talked about lipstick kisses before? bcs oh god idk how many times i reread it, it never gets old. i think we agree that light with lipsticks. this is a nice fic.

friends with (financial) benefits listen, the concept of this fic is *chefs kiss*. it's funny and the execution is really good. honestly i kinda dig continuation, this is a big brained shit.

two wills. umm ok go ahead and hurt me, come on. please, i am WEAK for fics with 'what if' themes. this fic gave me lots of emotions, and fuck do i want them a good life.

the first of good mornings. excuse me where were you all my life??? why so soft??? fuck please just,,,go read it for a very fluffy morning after.

come to bed. FUCKKK I FOUND ANOTHER FLUFF PERFECTION. Very fluffy, very makes me want what they have, go read it go read it. very reccomended for a particular bad day occasion, this fluffiness will cheer you up, maybe.

honey in your tea. a blind!light fic, lil hurt/comfort-y but just a little. overall very fluffy and please L loves light so much i fucking cant-

buried alive. mmmm fuck yea, living underground as apocalypse survivors? mhm yea sign me up. a little creepy, bcs, apocalypse are scary shit in general but very good! they love each other til the end of the world (literally)

bonus : another moonriver good food, oh how the river encapsulates the moon. what a nice title right? it's a not so fluffy fluff, but i like it. it's a bit stockholm syndrome-y, if you listen to near, but i think to light it's similar to yotsuba arc romance situation. idk, just check it out.

you're welcome.

[bungou-stray-dingus]

hey!! Can I request chuuya and dazai with a s/o that’s on her period and she has to go through period cramps? I really love your writing a lot hehe

a/n : I hope you enjoy this! I added a little bonus part for this request and I hope you like the little bonus. If you do like the bonus, please don't hesitate to ask for more pieces that include bonus parts. Also.. F*** AN ANGRY UTERUS! I hate period cramps, they are awful. Much Love, DINGUS!

Dazai

When he walked in he was used to you being there to greet him with a warm smile, a hug, and a brief kiss before pulling him to the couch to cuddle with him. That's why he slightly panicked, his eyes scanning the living room before landing on the small form on the couch covered with multiple blankets. He walked over to inspect and he saw you there, your lips turned down in a little pout, your brows pulled together and your grip on the edge of the blanket tightened as another cramp began.

"Is it that time again?" He asked, squatting down next to you. You had on one of your hoodies, the hood pulled up and the strings drawn so the hood closed in around your face. He thought you looked adorable, especially when your bottom lip jutted out and you slowly nodded your head. "I'll order some take out, and we'll just relax for the evening, how about that?" You perked up a little and he kissed the tip of your nose before standing up straight.

He had been with you long enough to know that your period would have you out of commission for the amount of time it lasted. The pain it caused differed every month, sometimes your cramps wouldn't have any affect on you at all, they were small and didn't cause you much pain. Other times they'd have you doubled over in pain, crying as you wrapped your arms around your abdomen, your breath coming out as hisses through your teeth. This seemed like one of the latter times, and he knew that the most awful cramps lasted the first two or three days.

He always did his best to help comfort you through these times every month, whether it be with extra cuddles and kisses or with jokes that most other people would think are stupid and ridiculous. He didn't fully understand how much pain you were in, but he hated seeing you even wince whenever you got a cramp. He wasn't the biggest fan of pain himself, and seeing his beautiful belladonna in so much pain hurt him just as much.

He cared about you a lot, but he also wanted to use your period to his advantage as well. You would scoff at him from your small cocoon of blankets on the couch when he would call Kunikida and tell him that he couldn't come into work because you were on your period. Since it was Dazai, he didn't really care if Kunikida said no and he would end up staying home with you anyway. It was only during the beginning of your period though, and on those days he would grab all the blankets from around the house and wrap the two of you in them. You would rest your head on his chest and he would help hold the heating pad on your stomach, the blankets were wrapped tightly around the two of you, only your heads peaking out from the tops. He would rent a bunch of movies and marathon them with you all morning and afternoon, only getting up to reheat the pad on your stomach or when either of you had to use the restroom.

After the movie marathon was over he would carefully move you off his chest (which was very hard considering how tightly wound the blankets were) and go to the kitchen to either start making dinner or just order something to eat. You would watch him with lidded eyes, trying to fight off sleep as he worked over the stove. He would curse under his breath whenever he got burnt or something taste as he had expected. Usually you two would end up eating carry out in the end, he wasn't the best chef, but it was the thought that counts and you appreciated the attempt none the less.

After eating he would clean up the mess, it was the only time he willingly did all the cleaning, it showed you that he cared and that he loved you. He wasn't the most cleanly person, and when you weren't on your period you would do most (all) the cleaning around the apartment, so you slightly enjoyed having the small break, even if it came with the horrendous cramps.

He would run you a warm bath so that you could fully relax before bed, and whether you wanted him in there with you or not, he would either have a towel in the drier warming up for when you get out, picking out your comfiest pajamas and having the bed set up for you to quickly climb into and fall asleep. If he was in the bathroom with you, he would have a warm rag, holding it against your neck while rubbing soothing circles into your scalp. He would have a few candles lit, burning on the sink counter and the edges of the bathtub, anything to help your mind and your body relax.

All in all, he's very supportive and caring of you when you're on your period, and he just wants you to be in as little pain as possible. He wouldn't hover, but he'd make sure that you had everything you need, plus a couple smaller things that he thought would make you feel a little better, anything to make that little pout on your face turn into a smile.

Chuuya

He knew exactly when your period was due. The dates were marked in his calendar on his phone months before, he had calculated them all accordingly. Not only was it so that he knew when to be stocked up on pads or tampons or both, but also so he knew what days to prepare for your menstrual induced hormone changes. Chuuya knew that your cramps were painful, and he made sure that there was enough Midol and Ibuprofen in the house to last through your entire period.

When he got the alert on his phone that your period was due he was sure to text you immediately. If you said anything about cramping or being in pain he would drop everything at work and come to you, pulling you into his arms as soon as he saw you, pressing kisses along any open skin he could find. "Is my princess in pain?" He whisper, dragging his lips along the shell of your ear. It didn't help that you were far more sensitive to his touch when your hormones were raging, but when he was doing these types of things it made it hard for you to remember that you were bleeding. That is, until another cramp set in and your hands would move up to your abdomen, feeling like the only way to keep yourself from breaking in half was to use your hands to hold yourself together.

You nodded slowly, biting your bottom lip as you waited for the pain to subside. He walked you to the bedroom and helped you into the bed, giving your the fluffiest pillows to prop your head up on. As soon as he knew you were comfortable he would run to the bathroom, grabbing the heating pad from underneath the sink and fill it with warm water. He carefully placed it on your lower abdomen and watched as you took a deep breath, feeling the warmth run through your body and soothe your angry uterus. "You know, I could stop this for nine months if you'd like..." Chuuya said, and you weren't sure if he was serious or if he was joking. His voice was always so stern, so you could never tell when he was being sarcastic and if this was one of those moments.

"Don't make me laugh, it hurts." You said, rolling your eyes at him. He shrugged before kissing your forehead and getting up off the bed. "Well, the offer still stands. How about you get some sleep." He said while tucking you in. He walked out of the room, but how could you possibly sleep with what he said fresh in your mind? Sure, periods sucked and they were painful, but they were definitely not as painful as labor and growing an entire child in your womb.

He sat on the couch and pulled out his phone, he wanted to get you some things, things that would brighten your day. He couldn't exactly make the cramps go away, not right now at least, but he could at least get you stuff to make you smile, make you happy, maybe even forget about the pain for a little bit.

After he finished ordering the items he slid his phone back into his pocket and went to the kitchen. He pulled out the recipe for your favorite meal and began cooking. He wasn't the greatest chef in the world, but he knew how to flavor things well enough that they tasted good, and he didn't burn down the entire apartment complex.

He kept the bedroom door cracked open so he would be able to hear even the slightest whimper of pain from you. If he did, he would turn off the burners and rush into the room, kneeling on the floor next to the bed and holding your hand, helping you breathe through the cramp. He would get a wash clothe and run it under cold water to dampen it before placing it on your forehead. He knew that you would sometimes work up a sweat when your cramps got really bad, and he wanted nothing more than for you to be comfortable.

When he finished cooking dinner, if your periods were really bad, he would serve you your dinner in bed. He would sit next to you, both your legs stretched out, balancing your plates on your laps. He would have his laptop in between both your legs, loading up either your favorite movies or watching YouTube videos that would make you chuckle lightly. He adored your laughter, and he loved hearing it, especially after hearing your whimpers of pain, it let him know that you were okay.

After eating he would take your plate and stack it on his and place it on the bedside table, he would get to it later, all he wanted to do now was hold you close against him. Chuuya cuddles always helped you to forget about your cramps, and sometimes, almost like it was magic, having his arms around you was better pain relief than the pills in the cabinet. You would bury your face in his chest while he sang to you softly, the vibrations in his chest, the sound of his heartbeat, and the soothing tone of his voice all mixed together was enough to have you falling fast asleep.

He would cradle you a little longer before slipping his arm out from underneath you ever so carefully, making sure to not wake you with the movement. He would clean up the dinner mess, not wanting to leave anything out that you would try to clean yourself. He didn't want you to feel like you had to strain yourself while you were on your period, even if you told him that you wanted to help clean he would quickly object your offer and tell you to go get comfortable on the couch or in the bed. After he finished cleaning he would make his way back into the bedroom, his arms outstretched, knowing that you would habitually gravitate towards the warmth of his body. When you did move into his arms they would enclose you, keeping you close against him, his lips softly brushing against your temple, your forehead, and your cheeks before he allowed himself to fall asleep as well.

Chuuya... this boy... he wanted only the best for his Queen. If you were in pain, he would do anything to stop it. (That offer of stopping it for nine months was legit, he would do ANYTHING). You could ask this boy for anything and he would do it. Hugs? GOT IT! Cuddles? He's already on the couch with his arms outstretched waiting for you. Kisses? Honey you don't need to ask, his lips are on yours before you can even ask. Everything he does for you is done out of love, and he fricking LOVES you.

[bnhabadass]

Pairing: Bakugo x Reader Warnings: N/A Word Count: 2108 Synopsis: When you fall ill one day, Bakugo’s usually gruff and distant personality becomes gentle to the touch as he takes care of you. A/N: This is my second submission for the @bnhabookclub​ bingo event! The link to my bingo master list is here, but you should also make sure to check out the other pieces bookclub members have written too!

In the three months you have been dating Bakugo Katsuki, you have never known him to be particularly affectionate. In fact, it sometimes seems like he’d rather stay as far away from you as possible.

You were the one to ask him out, and although he looked like he would rather jump off a cliff, with the bothersome encouragement from his friends, he begrudgingly agreed. On your first date, he barely spoke, let alone reach out to touch you. You thought your relationship would be over before it even began. But even after your awkward date, he asked you when you were free again.

Over time, Bakugo opened up to you little by little. While he kept his distance physically, he would check in with you between classes and sit next to you during lunch and breakfast. It was cute, how awkward he was around you. You were the only person who was ever able to fluster him, and his friends loved to tease him for it. Still, you wished that he was willing to reach a hand out for you to hold every so often.

What did it mean that he wouldn’t? Was he scared that you would hurt him if he did, or is it that he doesn’t think you’re good enough to be touched by his gruff and meticulous hands?

Three months into your relationship and the two of you still hadn’t kissed. Bakugo’s friends always bugged him about it. Out of all the things he tended to lose his head over, that was not one of them. Perhaps he’s matured or maybe he didn’t care as much as you hoped.

“So Bakugo,” Kaminari asked, sliding up to him at the table he was eating breakfast at. “Where’s the girlfriend this morning? Rough night? Is she sore from all of your–”

Bakugo cut him off with a loud blast to his face. He resumed eating as if it were nothing while Kaminari sat there, sputtering out a coughing fit.

“Hey, where is (Y/n)?” Kirishima asked, sitting down and patting Kaminari on the back. “She said she wasn’t feeling well during movie night last night so she went to bed early.”

Bakugo preferred not to indulge in his friends’ antics of staying up late eating junk food and watching movies so it was news to him that you weren’t feeling well. Looking around, he saw that you had not joined any of your peers for breakfast. An empty feeling washed over him at the realization of your lacking presence.

“I’ll go check on her,” he mumbled, figuring you would still be in your room. Walking up the stairs, he headed for the door labeled with your name. Gripping the door knob, he gently turned it and pushed the door open. The first thing he noticed was the lump under your covers that moved at the creaking sound of the door. “Oi, dumbass. Get up. We have class.”

You groaned, snuggling your head further into your pillow. You mumbled a few words that Bakugo couldn’t understand.

“What did you say?” It wasn’t like you to refuse to attend class or to sleep in longer than necessary, especially if you had gone to bed early the night before. Bakugo took a few steps toward you so he was standing right next to the head of your bed.

Peaking your head out from nuzzled inside the pillow, your watery, heavy eyes met his crimson ones.

His eyes widened at seeing your face, flushed with a cool layer of sweat coating it. Bits of your hair stuck to your forehead and cheeks. You looked like shit. “You’re sick aren’t you.”

“I’m not that sick,” you protested. Your achy joints struggled to push yourself up. You were stopped, however, when Bakugo placed his firm hand over your forehead. The feeling of his calloused hand pressing onto your sweaty forehead froze you in place. All you could breathe in was his caramel scent. You had never been this close to him before, and the realization made your face burn hotter than it already was.

“You have a fever,” he said, pulling his hand away. “Were you going to tell me?”

“It’s not that bad. I’ll email Aizawa Sensei, let him know I won’t be in class today. I just need a bit of rest and I’ll be fine.” You smiled up at your boyfriend, but the way your arms shook with chills told him you would need a lot more than a good night’s sleep to feel better.

“Bullshit,” Bakugo said. “You stay here, I’ll get you some medicine.”

As he turned to leave, you tried to stop him. “W-what? But Bakugo, you’ll be late to class.”

“I’m not going to class if you’re feeling this bad. You need someone to take care of you,” he said from the doorframe.

Before you could protest any further, he was already gone. Sighing, you cautiously lowered yourself back into bed and awaited his return.

“You know,” you said, thermometer in your mouth, “I can take care of myself.”

“And run around the dorms infecting everything you touch? I don’t think so.” Bakugo sat in your desk chair, arms folded across his chest as he waited for the thermometer to beep. When it did, he was swift to pull it out of your mouth. “Well at least it’s a low grade fever.” He set the stick on your desk and put a hand back over your forehead.

You hummed into the feeling of his fingers stroking across your hairline. “Yaoyorozu said she’d give us the homework,” you said, trying to find something, anything to talk about.

“Dumbass, you shouldn’t be worrying about that now.” Bakugo reached over to your desk and grabbed a glass of ice water he had set out before taking your temperature. He also set a few pills on your bedside table. “Take these. Your fever will go down.”

With half lidded eyes you smiled. “Thanks.” The pills were harder to swallow than others you’ve had to take in the past. You made awkward choking and gagging noises, which had Bakugo rolling his eyes.

“Do you want me to make you some tea?”

Smiling up at him with glassy eyes, you nodded. It was confusing why he had been acting so kind, almost paternal towards you in those moments, as if you were his child or someone he needed to protect. Someone he really cared about. His girlfriend.

You couldn’t help but smile as you thought back to the delicate touch he had when pushing strands of your hair back. You wanted to feel that touch again and you had a feeling that it would happen sooner rather than later.

Bakugo didn’t return until a good forty minutes had passed. While you appreciated everything he was doing for you, especially skipping class to make sure you were all right, you were slightly annoyed that he had not brought you your tea as he had promised.

You passed the time by scrolling through your social media, texting your friends to find out what you were missing in class, and playing a few rounds of whatever video game was currently in your console.

A small gasp escaped your sore throat when Bakugo emerged through your door holding a tray with tea, a bowl of soup, a box of tissues and more meds to keep your fever down.

“Here,” he shoved the tray in your hands, making you drop the controller so soup would not spill all over your comforter. “Fucking eat this.”

He sat back down at your desk chair and watched as you scooched up the bed and held the tray on your lap. Your hand tentatively reached for the large spoon next to the equally large bowl. It was weird. You’ve seen Bakugo cook. You’ve heard Kirishima go on about how great he is at making onigiri and stir fries, but it had never occurred to you to ask him to cook for you.

“Well what are you waiting for? Try the damn thing!”

Bakugo’s voice snapped you out of your daze. You dove the spoon in to scoop up the clear broth and one of the many carrots bobbing up and down in the bowl as if it was taking a nice long dip in the lazy river. Bringing the spoon to your nose, you breathed in. It smelled good, at least as well as it could with your nose being so stuffed.

You brought the spoon to your lips and the savory flavor instantly opened your tastebuds back up to the world. Your eyes widened and you couldn’t help but gawk at the steaming bowl in front of you.

“Well, how is it?” Bakugo mumbled under his breath. One of his hands was weaved in his hair, perhaps out of stress or nerves in seeing what you truly thought of his cooking. You’re not sure why he would be so nervous. Bakugo’s not the kind of guy to stress over something or to really feel nerves at all. He exudes confidence and that’s one of the many things you have always admired about him.

“It’s incredible.” You willed your tired and achy face to curve your lips into a smile. Your eyes never seemed to dull as you went on about the flavor and how all the spices blended together so perfectly.

“All right, all right I get it,” he said. “You don’t have to keep praising me. It’s not like I’m competing on Top Chef or anything.” Although he was telling you to stop it with the compliments you could tell that he was truly flattered.

You finished the soup, even picked it up to lick the bowl clean which was rewarded with a partially disgusted glare from Bakugo. You hadn’t forgotten about your tea either, drinking all of it and taking the second dose of medicine along with it. Being in Bakugo’s presence, you felt lighter and less ill.

“How are you feeling now?”

“Better,” you said, smiling up at him. “I think I’ll be well enough to go to class tomorrow.” But as if the universe was against you, you sneezed and a long strand of snot came down across your face.

“You’re disgusting.” There was a hint of a chuckle in Bakugo’s words as he handed you a few tissues from the box. “You should probably rest a bit. I’ll, I dunno, get out of your hair or whatever.”

“No, stay.” Your hand subconsciously reached out to grab his wrist as he stood up, but you pulled it back out of fear. Fear for what? Bakugo had been touching your forehead to take your temperature all day. He had barely left your side apart from leaving to make you soup and tea, so why did the touch of reaching out to him scare you so much?

Bakugo’s cheeks tinted pink as he felt his blood run cold. What was with you? Why were you acting this way?

There was an awkward silence between the two of you which lasted a few long, agonizing moments.

“Or not,” you broke the silence. “You can–”

“No I’ll stay.” Bakugo kept his eyes trained on the small rug covering the center of your room. “I’ll keep you company.”

A songbird-like laugh escaped your slightly chapped lips. Bakugo sat back down and although embarrassed, he still smiled at you.

Not much time had passed before you began to doze off into a light nap. Your head ached but you weren’t in enough discomfort to warrant staying awake.

In the time you and Bakugo spent together, you learned all sorts of things about him, that his parents are fashion designers, why he wants to be a hero. You even found out what his favorite flavor of mochi ice cream is.

As you talked more and learned more about each other, your longing for him to hold you deepened. The way his big arms gesticulated as he spoke made you wish they were wrapped around you. You wished he would genuinely laugh with you all the time, not just in this moment you two were alone. But it will all come in time, right? Maybe the next day when you’re less sick.

You could have sworn that as your heavy eyelids fell shut and you zoned in and out of consciousness, Bakugo stood up from your desk chair and placed a subtle kiss on your forehead. When he left your room, closing your door in the softest way possible so you would not stir awake, your eyes fluttered open and grin spread across your face.

Yeah, it will all come in time.