#what I would give to have that meal again it was genuinely the best food I’ve ever had in my life

[pumpkinsouppe]

Quick question while I’m currently designing them

The big reason is bc I want to design a cazuela de Ave (Mapuche/Chilean chicken and pumpkin soup) and I feel like one person might recognize it without text 💀

Also if you have any soup suggestions feel free to comment them on the post or in the tags lol

[strawberrystepmom]

gojo x f!reader. gojo and reader are in an semi-established relationship although he is referred to as boyfriend in this. cw: food, tantanmen is a spicy ramen soup. hurt/comfort if you squint, bad day lamentations, and one of my personal favorite gojo facts: man hates spicy food. i also hc him as a picky eater so here we go.

wc 1.5k | divider by cafekitsune

“I want tantanmen.”

Satoru’s bottom lip begins sticking out as soon as he hears the first letter of his most dreaded of your post-stressful day cravings leave your mouth.  

The bane of his existence - spicy food. It overwhelms his senses, a fact you’re well aware of, making it a rarity that you would even ask. That’s how he knows today has been capital-R rough for you and although he wants to help make your difficult day better, there’s hesitation in his step and he stops you on the train platform to put his hands on your shoulders. His grip is just firm enough to bring you comfort and you glance up at him looking so dejected he almost thinks better of his next question. Consideration - something he is not always the best at doing - be damned, he cannot stop himself before the words slip out.  

“Are you sure you don’t want something else instead?”

Hurt flashes across your face and you don’t bother to hide it. Every single one of your boyfriend’s whims is surrendered to no matter how ridiculous it is, trips and meals and sex positions and a million other tiny things you do to make him happy despite his insistence he doesn’t need them. Sure, it’s unfair for you to expect the same in return given you do it with no expectation of reciprocation but for once it would be nice to not have your choices questioned.

“You told me I could get anything I wanted and it was your treat. Are you changing your mind?”  

You raise a brow, slacken your jaw, and harden your gaze that is pointed upward in his direction. 

“I’ve had a rough day, Satoru. All I need is something so spicy it makes me cry.”

The tears threatening to fall from your lash line aren’t fake or for “getting your own way” purposes, you genuinely feel like you’re on the brink of tears and have all day. A scolding from Yaga, a disagreement regarding curriculum with Utahime via intense text message exchange, blatant disrespect from your students that they have yet to apologize - every bad moment piled up into something heavy to carry that weighs down on your chest. Thankfully, Satoru knows you well enough to be able to tell that you are being honest about the way you feel and arguing is futile.

“Fine,” he agrees with a loud exhale. “But on the way home we’re going to stop and get something edible to people who aren’t crazy, okay?”

Reaching for his hand, you nod and snuggle into his arm. Lacing your fingers between his, the stress visibly melts from you and a minuscule part of him feels bad for putting up an argument to your wishes at all. Is this really how he’s going to act when you are so undeniably sweet to him when you want to be? How many of his whims do you give into without having to think about it at all? Sighing, he leans toward you and kisses the top of your head, crowding you closer against his body. 

“You’re not going to make me try it this time?”

“No. I only did that once and besides, their menu is big. You are bound to find something you like if you just look.”

Giggling, you cling to his side and shrug playfully. The distinct shine of tears in your eyes has dissipated and your smile seems warmer than earlier, making him feel slightly less guilty for his blunder. 

Guilt isn’t something that he really dwells on often, as impermanent as the rest of his emotions tend to be, but it’s different when it’s you. Keeping you happy is just about the only thing he hasn’t been perfect at on the first attempt yet he keeps trying and figuring it out a little more every day. He figures you out a little more every day, honestly. It’s what keeps him coming back.

“But I like eating the same thing as you.” Satoru pouts again and you roll your eyes, squeezing your arm that is wrapped around his bicep. “I know but sometimes it doesn’t hurt either of us to try something new or different from the other.”

He hums his disbelief and the two of you walk alongside one another toward the gate.

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Ordering your spicy soup with a smile at the front counter while your boyfriend situates the table the two of you will be sitting at, you check over your shoulder once before leaning in the direction of the young woman taking your order.

“I have a really weird request.”

She nods politely and you take a deep breath, knowing how rude it is to ask for changes to menu items when there are so many. Despite the impoliteness, you feel obligated to give him a little break while taking into consideration the one he has given you tonight.

“So the tantanmen…is there any way I could get just the broth and noodles without anything else?” The young woman blinks at you unenthusiastically and you straighten your shoulders, putting on your most winning smile. “How about a child’s serving with less spice? Is that something you could do?”

Wordlessly, she glances over your shoulder at the table your over six and a half feet tall man sits at in search of a child that could possibly need this kind of accommodation for their food. She spots none, only your boyfriend who is grinning down at his phone and laughing to himself.

“It’s for him. He doesn’t do spice very well, I know that’s ridiculous but we always order the same thing and I understand if you can’t do it. I just had to ask.”

She hums and presses the buttons on the screen in front of her, turning it to show you. One order of soup, extra spicy for you. One order of soup, just broth and no spice for Gojo. Gratefully, you bow your head and she plays it off with a smile. Even she can’t be terribly annoyed at a couple that clearly has figured out one another’s whims and she instructs you to go and sit at your table to await your order.

Sliding in next to him on the same side of the booth, as always, you grin and he puts his phone down immediately to wrap his arm around your shoulder. 

“What’d you order me?”

You shrug playfully and he gasps.

“You know I’ll simply go on hunger strike if you got me something spicy…” he trails off and you laugh, reaching up to tug on his earlobe the way you always do when he’s running his mouth. “You’ll just have to see what surprise I have in store.”

The two of you chit chat for a few minutes but the soup comes more quickly than you expected. Satoru’s face lights up when his eyes glance down at a bowl full of silky broth, pulling apart his chopsticks delightedly. It’s the same thing you have, just a little different and exactly how he likes it.

“Oh, you shouldn’t have!”

Laughing, you shake your head and follow his lead, glancing down into your own steaming bowl of relief. Opening your chopsticks, breaking them apart, giving thanks for the meal, they’re all as natural as breathing at this point and you smile at him again as he glances down into your bowl.

The broth of your soup is as red as anything he has ever seen.

“That looks like the fire of Hell,” he scoffs, scooping broth into his mouth and swallowing quickly. 

You take a sip from your spoon and sigh in relief, shoulders relaxing into a natural position instead of curved forward sadly. Despite his earlier protests, there’s nothing he’d rather do than sit here and watch you eat your troubles away, pinkies of both of your free hands touching below the table. 

“It just might be.”

The spice makes you sniffle and he’s quick to pick up a napkin, dabbing at the tip of your nose to make sure no dribbles have occurred. This is another habit he has picked up after all this time watching you challenge yourself to meals he wouldn’t touch if he had to. Wiping your nose and cheeks and making sure you drink water.

“Thank you for treating me.”

Leaning over your bowl, you slurp a mouthful of noodles and chew it thoughtfully. He watches your mouth and jaw move, reaching up to cup your face but stopping himself from kissing you with your mouth full. It wouldn’t be the first time but that damned spicy broth is all over your lips and he won’t take the risk as badly as he wants to.

“Thanks for letting me, you freak of nature.”

Giggling, you shrug and lean into his touch.

“It takes one to know one.”

No argument from him.

[another-random-paradise]

Listen, I found your account by coincidence and it was the most beautiful coincidence.... Your writing is very wonderful and I am happy that the rq is open

so can i rq a hc about twst? Where the reader loves agriculture and have a garden in ramshackle where they grow flowers and some vegetables as a hobby, which impresses their friends?

Honestly I don't have any specific characters in my mind so you are free to choose any 4 characters or less (I love everyone, so I'll be satisfied with anyone.)

And of course you are free to accept my request or reject it🪷🪻🌻

Grown with Love

So sorry about the long wait!! School has been a lot recently ;( But thank you for the request and the kind words!! I don't have the greenest thumb, so the garden details are kept very vague-

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Agriculture loving reader with a garden

Characters: Ruggie, Azul, Malleus

Format: Headcanons

Warnings: None that i can think off

Ruggie

-When he first hears about it, he doesn't care all that much; it's just a hobby to him. But because he cares about you, he listens to you talk about it!

-When you mention that you also grow food in your garden, that's when he gets interested! He's pretty curious about what kind of foods you grow, what kind of care they need, ect...

-He comes visit ever so often and watches you work, he likes how concentrated you look! That, and the scenery of your garden with all the different flowers and plants is a very pretty and relaxing sight, perfect for whenever he needs a break from Leona

-If you ever make him a meal with food from your garden, he will very simply adore you- He wants to eat it slowly to truly enjoy it, but also scarf it down because of how good it tastes 

-Eventually, he tries to make a deal with you: He helps you out around the garden in exchange for some of the food you grow! If you accept, you best believe he'll give it his all, he makes sure to help you let your plants thrive! (Not that they don't already under just you're care <3) 

-If you agree to the deal, he'll keep some of the food to bring home to his grandma and the kids of his slum during the holidays, so that they have something fresh to eat for once

-All in all, he really enjoys the scenery, and would love to help out! 

Azul

-As you could have possibly guessed, even if the two of you are close friends, his first thought is money. 

-He asks to sign a contract with you; you give him fresh food from your garden in exchange for proper payment and/or free meals at the lounge. Once again, your choice if you want to accept or decline! 

-Aside from that, your garden does genuinely fascinate him! He grew up in the sea, he most likely hasn't seen most land plants, let alone the way they grow, so most of things in the garden are completely new to him

-He likes simply relaxing in your garden, watching how your different plants develop and grow, your garden becomes a bit of a save haven for him, whenever the twins or work stresses him out

-He often compliments you, wether on how good your work ethic is, how great your plants are doing, how beautiful your garden is, ect. And he does genuinely mean every one of them!

-He says he is at your garden so often, because it's a good getaway from his stress, but really your garden and all the unfamiliar land stuff just fascinates him 

Malleus

-Your garden will permanently become part of his route for his night walk, if you allow it

-He is genuinely fascinated by your work, he loves the way your garden looks, and isn't afraid to praise you for it! 

-If you have a flower or two that's native to briar valley, this man has stars in his eyes. He may give you a tip or two about how to get to thrive as greatly as they can, should you ask. they are definitely one of his favorite flowers  in the garden!

-He'll take the food from your garden, or meals cooked with it, over any other meal any day of the week! especially if the other choice is lillia's cooking

-He says he can taste how much love and care  is put into growing something, so your food logically tastes better to him than something grown and cooked as a job instead of as a hobby. 

-During shared nightly walks or really just whenever the two of you hang out, it'll be a mutual understanding that both of you can freely talk about your interests! 

-He'll tell you about gargoyles and you can talk as much as you want about agriculture 

-If you mention having a favorite plant, or that you have one that you've been wanting to grow but just haven't been able too for whatever reason, he'll definitely get you the seeds and whatever else is required for it!

This was such a cute thing to write!! Did struggle a bit because i don't know much about agriculture despite living next to at least three different farms-

Feedback is welcome!! just be nice!

Hope you have a nice day/night <3

[the-goddess-of-mischief-writing]

ok i know you haven’t written possessive price yet and i genuinely can’t remember what i wrote in the ask and i feel like i’m gonna write the same thing but the roles are switched but idc…but imagine possessive sunshine!reader…like price is a good looking dude and imagine he gets hit on at marissa’s bar IN FRONT OF THE READER AND/OR MARISSA and price is doing his best at trying to get the last away from him but she just won’t fuck off

Soulmate Sour

Summary; When someone flirts with Price you take it into your own hands to let them know he's off the market.

Pairing: Cpt. John Price x reader (sunshine!universe)

Rating: Mature

CHAPTER NO/ONESHOT: Onehsot 

Word; 3.2k

Warnings; alcohol consumption (drink in moderation), possessiveness, hints at suggestive themes

Author; @the-goddess-of-mischief-writing​

A/N: so I adjusted this just slightly but the main parts are still there, hope you enjoy nonnie&lt;3

You chat with Johnny, his left arm slung behind Marissa on the couch's backrest. Meanwhile, your friend is talking to Kyle. For once, you aren't at the Pearl. Marissa decided to close her place earlier for your group to enjoy a night out where she could join in. Perks of being the owner and controlling closing times, as she said.

It's still early for a Friday, only 9 p.m. There were two more hours before the pub you'd find your way to closed.

It was a much more traditional place than Marissa's. Dark, gloomy, food-to-the-drinks kind of place that half of the population would stop by on their way home from work. And your company wasn't entirely different.

Tonight wasn't a return-from-deployment night. It was a simple get-together after work that John asked if you wanted to tag along to, Johnny having done the same to Marissa. Despite having planned a girl's dinner, the boys had been scattered for a few weeks, most of them back on active duty like John, and tonight was the first time most found their way back to town from wherever so the get-together had been something you couldn't pass up on. 

However, rather than fixing yourself to the somewhat special evening when John had knocked on your door, you'd greeted him with your computer in hand and a brief wave. A meeting with one of your clients ran longer than anticipated.

In the end, Joh waited 40 minutes for you to finish, giving you no time to change out of your work attire if the two of you didn't want to run unfashionably late.

You'd managed to reach the pub just as the others arrived. It was lucky you'd chosen a place that served food, seeing how your last meal had been lunch. Which, at the time, had been over six hours ago.

Your stomach had rumbled enough for Marissa to dig her finger into your side, asking if 'the workaholic cares for herself' in that partly teasing, partly serious tone. However, with everyone's plate of favoured dinner polished clean of food soon after finding a table -aside from Ghost who, when you asked, said 'don't fancy eating around other people, so ate earlier'- the soft feeling of fullness had eased your stomach.

Not soon after the dinner, and before the plates got cleared from the table, John had patted your thigh.

You'd been in the midst of your conversation with Johnny as you momentarily had turned to face the one seeking your attention. 

'Gonna get somethin' to drink. You want anythin'?' John had asked once you turned to face him. 'Same old', you'd answered and he'd only nodded, squeezing your thigh before he slid out of the curved booth.

What brought you out of the thought 'he's been gone for a while now' was when the Scotsman trailed off in his sentence, his eyes perched over your shoulder rather than face, remaining pinned to something behind you. 

Your brows knitted together, head cocking slightly at his sudden shift of attention. The minimal reaction to his strayed conversation was enough to make the Scotsman's face you again.

Something new had entered his eyes and you gave him a questioning look.

"Hate to say it to ye, lass, but old Price seems popular". Johnny nodded forward, motioning to whatever he spotted earlier.

Just as you shift to follow his gaze, a second voice momentarily stops your movement.

"Don't go rippin' a head". Your eyes flicker to Ghost sitting across from you. The man had apparently also noticed whatever Johnny motioned towards as his brown eyes shifted to you.

You only smiled back. "Don't worry".

Ghost only shrugs, eyes falling back to what he'd watched earlier and you finally turn towards whatever both men now observed.

It's easy to find John. His stature is not hard to miss. 

He's standing by the bar, presumably having ordered the drinks he set out to do for you two. But, rather than staring at his broad back as he leans against the bar leisurely, waiting for the drinks to be served. John's standing straight, one hand resting on the bar, the other shoved in his pocket. His posture is tense enough that you note it across the room and if you would've been closer, you probably would've seen his jaw work too, as it often does when he's on edge.

The reason? A woman. She's talking to him, flirting with him.

You see it all the way from here despite not hearing a word she says, her body language screaming her intentions. She's smiling, head cocked to the side, her hand resting on the bar not far from John's. She isn't touching him. Still, she's standing close, closer than what's generally considered talking distance for strangers. Her upper body is leaning towards him, breaking John's personal bubble.

Your brows rise at the scene, your body turning towards the pair. Maybe Ghost was right with his comment as a sudden sour feeling fills your mouth. Despite this, you bite your tongue, remaining put as you watch the scene closely.

It doesn't take long, not even two minutes, before you spot what you only had a hunch would happen.

At something the woman says, John's head and upper body instinctively lean away from her before the rest of his body follows. He rolls his shoulder as he turns, his side facing her while replying. All the while, he attempts to step around the stool that previously prevented any smooth exit of putting distance between himself and his forced company. 

The move signalled two things. John didn't try to hide that he didn't enjoy the woman's presence anymore and wanted to end the primarily one-sided conversation. And, he needed help, not because you doubted him but because the woman followed his step with one of her own.

You scoffed. Apparently, the woman was fucking blind if she didn't understand the signal.

"I'll be back", you said to Johnny and Ghost, both having turned to look at you upon what transpired. You slide from the booth, rising to your feet once at the edge.

"Go get her, lass". There was a big grin on the Scot's face, but you ignored it as you started walking towards the bar.

"Don't do anythin' I would". You hear the Englishman warn from behind, to which you raise a few fingers in recognition and a departing gesture.

As you weave between tables and occupied chairs, your eyes never leave John and the woman. She sweeps her dark hair over her shoulder, showing off more of the plunging neckline meant to draw eyes. You almost laugh when she frowns upon noticing it didn't have the desired effect, but you catch yourself in the last second.

Slowing your step, you switch to look at John. His exasperation with the situation is humouring enough that the gentle smile you let spread isn't forced.

"Hi, how's the drinks going?" John's head snaps ironically fast towards you, his body swivelling to face you rather than the bar. In the corner of your eye, you note how the woman's attention switch to you. 

When you get closer, John pulls his hand out of his pocket and raises his arm, letting you sidle up to him. His hand lands upon your shoulder, making the two of you shift together when he turns to look down the bar. In the new position, you naturally face the woman, but at the moment, you don't look at her, focusing on John as his eyes drop back to you as he speaks.

"Soon done, love", he mutters. His voice is strained, annoyed. You don't need to guess because of what, or rather, who.

You circle your left arm around his waist, finally looking forwards, feigning realisation when you meet the woman's gaze.

"Oh, hello", you greet her with raised brows, catching the sour expression twisting her features for a split second. "Are you an acquaintance of John?"

You motion between the woman and the man at your side, pointing out their closer-than-strangers proximity. Upon the question, the dark-haired woman steps backwards to not stand as close to you.

"You're his girl". Your head cocks at the short remark and complete disregard of your greeting. 

Satisfaction spreads through you at her response, but you only let the gentle smile continue to play on your lips. "I am, and you are?"

"Kathleen", she puffed out her chest, chin jutting upwards, eyes straying towards John before shifting back to you.

"Pleasure", you return with a nod just as the bartender puts your drinks on the counter. "But, if you excuse us, our company is waiting". Your eyes stray to the glasses to push your point.

"I was talking to John when you interrupted". His name is purred from her lips as if knowing it meant everything to her and should bother you. You look back at her with creased brows, a questioning look directed towards her. She must have taken it for displeasure rather than astonishment at what she thought she was attempting, as a smug smile spread on her lips. "And he never mentioned you". 

Instantly, John tenses beneath your touch while his arm tightens around your shoulders. This time, you scoff. Did she really think that implied he was... what? Open to cheating because of that? 

Your reaction makes John's head tilt downwards. You know he wants you to look up at him from how intently he's looking at you, but you don't face him, instead staring straight back at the woman.

"And yet, you don't assume I'm anything else than his girl when I join him? If you didn't already have a hunch, why didn't you just suppose I'm his thing?" You question with a smile. Her mouth opens and closes, caught off guard by your reaction to what evidently was an attempt at winding you up. Clearly, she didn't get the response she desired.

She sneers. "Well, maybe you are because he didn't object to it". She makes a sharp motion with her hand towards John to defend whatever her definition of it implied.

You can feel how he heats up at your side, his already warm body boiling from how she addressed you and what you know is a false statement. You'd seen it yourself. That's why you can't help but chuckle, stepping away from John towards the bar. 

His arms remain around you for as long as possible until he begrudgingly lets it fall. When John doesn't touch you any longer, the air shifts violently. Tension immediately bleeds into the air.

"Be my guest then", you nod towards John as you grab your drinks, catching how not only the women's eyes widen at what you said. "If you want to get turned down a second or even third time, that is. Because from what I saw, my man isn't interested in you and tried to respectfully show that without dropping my name. Which should be enough anyways, don't you think?" You continue as you turn to face her.

The same smile you'd carried the entire conversation now flashed brighter towards the dark-haired woman, who sputters in bewilderment. Satisfied with her stunned expression and being tongue-tied, you turn towards John, whose eyes apparently never left you. 

"You ready?" His blues shift so violently that it feels like they go from black to white when you offer him his beer. He takes his drink from your offered hand with his right one only to intertwine the fingers of his left with it instead. You take the hint. "Have a good evening, Kathleen". You bid her goodbye without turning to face her, missing how the perplexed woman follows the two of you, stunned when John tags along with an ease she'd found impossible to evoke.

As your back is turned to the woman, you finally spit at her in your mind. Fucking bitch.

You hadn't noticed, but you took your first deep breath in a long time when taking a similar route back to the others as you had previously done to the bar. That was until there was a tug at your hand. 

You slow, twisting your head to look over your shoulder at John, only for him to twirl you around and into his chest before you manage. Some of your drink spill over your fingers, but you don't care about it the second his handsome smile and blue eyes greet you.

"Do you know how much more attractive you just got?" None of the previous tension lace his voice, only a lilt that reflects his lightened expression.

"What?" You ask, a bit dumbfounded, still mentally cursing the woman for how shitty she'd acted. Women empowering women, they say. Not those types of women.

John's eyes flicker over your face before settling to meet your gaze with a smirk. "Haven't seen you this possessive before". Your mouth drops open before you bite your lower one as it curls inwards.

"Don't like someone trying things on you", you mumble, shrugging as you continue. "Especially when they don't show some respect". 

Your eyes widen when you suddenly feel John duck, attaching his mouth to yours. Though he catches you off-guard, you fall into the kiss soon enough, his big hand releasing yours to tilt your face. 

He's warm, overwhelmingly passing the sensation into your body. You feel the last bit of resentment towards the woman leave you as John forces her out of your mind, replacing the mental place she'd occupied with himself.

The bristle of his beard brushing your lower face contrasts with how he gently cups your cheek. His beard oil and cologne fill your nostrils in a blend of something nutty and musky. 

You're putty in his grasp and can't help the silly smile spreading when he nipps your lower lip when pulling back.

"Appreciate it, love", John chuckles, gazing at you with an upwards curve of his mouth. "And the confidence suits you", he adds.

"Need to have some when dating your handsome face". You tap his bearded cheek with your index finger with a cocked head and smile.

"This handsome face only has eyes for one woman". You dip your head with a shake, momentarily needing to escape his intense eyes as his hand falls to the small of your back. His fingers teasingly press into the area. 

"Let's go back to the others". You nod backwards when you raise your head again. John agrees with a nod and a final peck before he guides you towards your table.

"Putting on a show, are you Price?" Kyle greets you with a smug look as you come closer. John only shrugs in return, not bashful about the action but not keen on discussing it. Everyone watches you as you retake your place, sliding into the booth first. John follows soon after, seating himself close enough that his side presses against yours. 

Marissa leans forward, her forearms crossed upon the table. She sends you an amused and knowing look, one you roll your eyes at, understanding the whole table must have followed the spectacle.

Like the smile your friend flashes, Johnny harbours a similar grin as when you'd left. 

"About time ya get someone who acts as yer saviour, Captain". The Scotsman remarks while he nudges his shoulder with yours, giving you a playful wink. This time, John huffs amusedly and you presume it's an inside joke as you catch the low chuckle escaping Ghost and Kyle. 

The comment swung them into a new conversation with countless ribbings. You can't help but shake your head at their antics as you listen to their chatter with your glass in hand. 

Sipping your drink, you melt into the seat, head resting against the shoulder of John's non-dominant side.

It had been a long and, by your standard, stressful day. It had taken a toll on you mentally more than physically. The only downside with not having an ordinary one-to-five, in your opinion. John asking you to tag along to this outing was just what you needed at the end of the day to be able to wind down, aside from one inconvenience.

The timing couldn't be any better as you suddenly feel someone staring. Your eyes sweep over the other occupants of the table before travelling further. You don't need to look for long until you find the source. 

The same woman from earlier sits by the bar, your eyes locking when your attention falls upon her. You raise your brows, huffing more out of pity than annoyance as you take another sip of your drink. 

Holding her stare, you don't hesitate to shift in your seat and cross your leg over your own and John's. You sit slanted towards him now, your leg resting comfortably over his thigh, dangling between his legs.

His response is immediate, his body aligning more towards you as he settles his left hand just above your knee. 

"You get awfully touchy when tryin' to make a point to someone". John whispers as he ducks his head, breath skimming the shell of your ear.

You smile against the rim of your glass, noticing how the woman's face scrunches upon noting your intimate proximity. The reaction is enough to spot from your position. "How'd you know?"

"I'm a soldier. I'm trained to always be attentive to my surroundings", he hums in response, still keeping his head low enough so only you catch his words. "Likewise, to read someone's intentions. Gotten good enough to rival your skill when it comes to you". He humours you with a low chuckle. The rough sound sends a shiver down your spine as your eyes drop to his thumb, which begins a circling motion on your leg. 

Your head tilts upwards, John accommodating by angling his head to catch what you say. "Well, good job, Captain". Your eyes momentarily lock with the women once more as John leans away, shielding your view as he stiffens upon hearing his rank being purred against the shell of his ear. But, you catch the reaction you wanted always, the woman promptly turning away.

Your eyes now meet gaze back at those blues focusing on you keenly.

Yes, John had gotten to know you quite a bit, your ticks and tells. But he indulged you in just as much.

You give him a coy smile and fall back slightly, resting your back against the couch again as you return his gaze.

John levels you with a firm look, hiking your leg slightly higher on his leg, signalling if you continue, this evening will definitely be cut short.

You only smile sweetly at him before you turn your upper body away, engaging yourself in the conversation with the rest. Upon catching his muted sigh, you sip your drink to stop yourself from grinning.

[mywons]

៹ enha when you're hurt.

▸ ִֶָ tags enha x reader + fluff + hurt/comfort + jayke being bf material + the boys being protective + romantic gestures. warnings! && mentions of injury, cursing. REQUESTED : hi there i love love love your writing and i was wondering if you could maybe do how the members would react if someone hurt you (either physically or emotionally)? ✿ 1.6k words —

## HEADCANONS UNDER THE CUT !

lee heeseung !

he's very very very attentive

whether you guys are dating or not, he makes sure to know all of your habits/quirks, so he knows when something's off

if you don't outright tell him, he'll ask for himself. "hey, what's going on with you? what happened, hm?"

please tell him so he doesn't think he did something wrong :(

his presence alone is probably one of the most comforting things ever, so if he's also putting all of his effort into making sure he's comforting you . . . god

if you're upset about something that can't be fixed, he'll listen to you rant & cry about it while he holds you in his arms and kisses the top of your head. maybe try and crack a few jokes to make you laugh,, get your mind off of it for a little

if it's something that can be fixed, he will give you any & all advice you ask for. would even take matters into his own hands if he feels like you're too stressed to handle it. he's so caring it's insane

if it's a person that hurt you . . . good luck to them???

like he already doesn't like seeing you upset but there's an actual human being that caused your tears?? they'll literally never be safe again

overall so so gentle with you and absolutely the best when it comes to making you feel better.

park jongseong !

he'll notice. immediately. like as soon as your fucking walk is a little off, he knows something is up

won't say anything unless you bring it up first, but he'll pamper you in so much affection that you know he's noticed your change in behavior

if days go by & your behavior doesn't change, then he'll ask about it

at this point, he's worried more than anything. just wants his happy baby back !!

^^ especially if your state starts messing w your physical health. he is not having it. has absolutely no problem w missing any & all events to cater to your every want and need, he's your very own personal caregiver

wtv's fucking with you will be long gone by the time he's done, jay hates to see you unhappy and he'll do absolutely anything to change it.

+ he already loves being there for you at every waking moment, so having an excuse to do this other than want ??? he loves it

you get texts from him every five minutes if he can't be near you "i'll bring food as soon as i can" "are you feeling better yet honey?" "i'm gonna stay over for the night"

you'd have to physically pry him off of you to go get a drink of water/use the bathroom in the middle of the night. poor boy is so clingy when you're not feeling well :((

jongseong the (boy)friend we all need $!3#+$%?

sim jaeyun !

he'd take you out on the best date ever, and you being you, you fall and twist your ankle

it's not that deep, you just have to stay in bed and elevate it for a few days. jake—jake thinks it is that deep

he feels so bad that you got hurt during your time w him, it feels like it's his fault even though it's really no one's

in guilt & genuine concern for you, he's by your side everyday all day. pampering you. holding your hand when you wanna get up and walk, cooking your meals and helping you bathe

he's js so so so sweet and by the end of it you're so accustomed to his company that you guys end up being a lot closer

randomly starts telling you how much he loves you throughout the day. platonic or not, he's just 100x more affectionate when you're hurt

even after you're all healed, his touch becomes a lot more gentle with you. the usual rough banter & playful fighting you guys do turns into softer touches and warm hugs. he's so careful with you

& finds himself being a lot more protective, too. a hand on the small of your back always

not overbearing, but it's to the point that you miss him so much it hurts when he's not near you

if someone else causes an injury or anything else that even slightly alters your mood in a negative way, pray for them

idk if y'all saw that one video where he said he'd fight over his partner but,, yeah. he didn't lie.

when it comes to your health, he's very very serious and he expects the same from everyone else you hang around

if he finds that someone around you doesn't feel that way, he would not hesitate to start an argument. you deserve the absolute best and shouldn't settle for less, he tells you

if you aren't already, you'll be in love w him by the end of your injury

park sunghoon !

sunghoon is an introvert, and because of this, he finds himself being quiet & zoning out sometimes. he has his bursts of chaotic energy like everyone else, but for the most part he observes

trying to lie to him ab being fine isn't smart. he knows you like the back of his hand. oh you thought he was staring into space? no, he was paying attention to literally everything around him, especially you

literally just the tone of your voice could change slightly and he knows something's wrong. he won't let it go either

"tell me. what's wrong? did something happen? did someone happen?"

he's naturally protective of the people around him, but you especially. you're very special to him and he likes to show it

you'd sit in his lap and tell him just about everything that's bothering you, while his hands are around your waist and he hugs you tightly

he knows he doesn't like dwelling on bad feelings himself, so his main thing would be to try and keep your mind as far drifted away from whatever's bothering you

whether it be physical contact, making jokes, reading to you, he'll do anything if it means he gets to see you smile because he knows you'd do the same for him

it's not rare for him to be affectionate, but he's usually only touchy when you guys are alone. now that he knows where your head is, he's always touching you as a way of reassurance

just so perfect in every way, doesn't at all think of you as a burden

kim sunoo !

he's definitely the type to be sad if you're sad

sunoo would walk up to you, expecting an exciting greeting. when he doesn't get that, he'd frown and immediately ask what's wrong

you'll tell him about the stomachache that's been bothering you, and he'd make you some tea and take a nap with you

it's easy to fall asleep as he traces shapes into your exposed skin

100% asking "are you okay? you're sure? do you need anything?" every five seconds

^^ make that every two seconds, actually

he's already extremely affectionate, but he usually shows it by teasing you. this time around? nuh uh, you're getting absolutely drowned in loving

just so sweet !!!!!!!! sweetest boy ever

he's so caring and forever concerned for you and how you're doing

you want soup in the middle of the night? he will sleepwalk to the damn kitchen and get the fucking job done.

yang jungwon !

he's probably used to dealing w caring for his sick members because of his leader role, but he definitely cares for you in a different way

showers you in gifts to take your mind off of your injury. buys you all different types of snacks and plushies <3

if it's something more emotional that's bothering you, there's no one else you could ask for that's better at making you feel better !!

he's so so genuine and it makes him so easy to be around ,, especially when you're dealing with problems. jungwon prides himself on how many people have told him how comfortable he makes them feel

definitely doesn't see you as a bother, and if you suggest such, you will be scolded

you're so very precious to him & he would never ever want you to feel otherwise. it's practically his duty to nurse you back into your best health so why would he ever be bothered by it??? especially when you're so wonderful to be around

his love language is definitely words of affirmation/quality time anyways, so he would never ever do anything to make you feel unwanted and is constantly reassuring you in any and every way he can

scolds redirects you when you try to do anything for yourself. "hey, let me do it, okay? you lie down."

honestly you forget you'd forget ab your problems whenever he's around, it's like his presence is the medicine to your wound

best boy <3

nishimura riki !

teases you nonstop !!

if it's something like a very small injury, he'll laugh at you as he helps your with your bandages

if it's something far more serious, he's far more serious

definitely doesn't like it if you don't take your current state seriously. you're not doing well, therefore you should be doing everything to get better. not wasting your time to make jokes. he's very rarely stern but when it comes to your wellbeing he's completely different

wouldn't get emotional unless it's something serious, and even then he wouldn't be emotional in front of you

orders you both different foods to try out of boredom each night

riki would 100% stay the night if you ask him, but if you aren't dating, he would sleep so far away unless you ask otherwise

^^ he's so cute bye

but in ending he's just super supportive and just wants the best for you, even if he teases you most of the time

!!!!!!! cutie

mywons © 2023 ## please do not plagiarize my works.

[jooillusion]

helloo~! This was a random 2am thought but what would ot6 reaction be to an unexpected/unplanned pregnancy? They could be married / only dating. Let your mind wander 💗

pregnancy ft. ot6 <3

warnings: unplanned pregnancy, brief mention of vomiting in jiseok’s, a little angsty in hyeongjun’s

lets say you and your boyfriend have been dating for a little over a year. condoms weren’t used after your one year anniversary.

now what did 99% of fic writers tell you about unprotected sex? yeah reader isn’t on birth control now you’re on the way home back from the hospital after feeling too sick. turns out you were completely unaware of being one month pregnant and you don’t even know how you’re going to break the news to your boyfriend. the urge to throw up was even more stronger when you heard your boyfriend walk through the door.

“what’s wrong babe?” he’d ask. his ability to automatically sense your anxious state almost brings you to tears. you bit your lip, avoiding eye contact and blinking once more before your eyes finally meet his.

“i’m not sick because of a stomach bug,” you’d start, eyes closing to avoid seeing his reaction. it was already far too late to abort, so you had no choice but to let him know. “i’m sick because i’m pregnant.”

꩜ G. GUNIL

you’re startled when you feel gunil’s arms wrapped around you, lifting you up off of the ground and spinning you around. elated doesn’t even describe him right now, he feels as if he’s on cloud nine. little did you know, he was ready to take the next step into your relationship and the thought of creating something so beautiful with you truly warms his heart. he can’t wait to be stuck to your side like glue, taking care of you every single second of the day.

꩜ K. JUNGSU

you hear the audible gasp leave jungsu’s lips, and you’re ready for the words of he’s not ready to be a father yet. instead, you’re met with a loud screech? jungsu can’t stop himself from moving, punching the air in excitement and jumping up and down a few times before gathering himself. he clears his throat, “oh, you’re pregnant? cool.” and you find yourself smiling at his actions. he’s already boasting about how excited he is for the upcoming months, hoping and praying for a son.

꩜ K. JISEOK

Jiseok’s mind fogs for a second. his warm palm on your cheek is the next thing you feel, leaning into it as he looks you in the eyes with a caring smile. the announcement doesn’t click until ten minutes later when you’re puking in a toilet again and he’s holding your hair back for you, cooing into your ear about how he’s ready to take care of you and your little one. once you’re done, he’s already discussing baby names and suggesting pregnancy food combinations that he tried and were good.

꩜ O. SEUNGMIN

just like gunil, seungmin is immediately holding you in his arms and spinning you around. he sets you on your two feet, “wait i’ll be right back.” and he disappears into your shared bedroom down the hall. a minute and a half later he comes back with a slightly worn out notebook. “i’ve had this since i was fifteen. i’ve always wanted to be a dad so…” the notebook is filled with baby names, both for boys and girls. you flip through it, not even noticing that he’s on his computer already shopping for a crib and clothes.

꩜ H. HYEONGJUN

hyeongjun’s words are caught in his throat. the uncomfortable silence lasts for too long, long enough to bring you to tears and storm off into your shared bedroom. hyeongjun follows behind you, seeing you crying in your hands which shatters his heart into pieces. he pulls you into a hug, kissing your forehead and trying to get you to calm down, whispering that he’s actually happy about it, just anxious about when the time comes to give birth and promises that he’ll be the best father for you guys’ baby. after you’ve calmed down, he’s preparing you your favorite meal while you’re laying in bed.

꩜ L. JOOYEON

“wait, really?!” you’re not sure if it’s out of annoyance, happiness, or if he was genuinely surprised due to his accent, but the tears that have welled up in your eyes finally slip out and jooyeon is panicking. his warm palms find your shoulders, “why’re you crying, babe? aren’t you excited to have a mini us running around?!” he says excitedly, wiping your tears. “maybe we could name he or she after Luke hyung.” you can’t help but smile, your tears of sadness shifting into tears of joy.

i giggled at the end LOLOL i’m sorry i saw an opportunity and TOOK IT 😭

please remember that this is a pure work of fiction.

[vampcubus]

Roommate!Kyojuro who’s been your best friend since Pre-K. You know each other inside and out, down to your usual orders and all your favorite restaurants. 

Roommate!Kyojuro who brings you food whenever he stops to grab takeout, always thinking of you and what you’d want. Haven’t eaten lunch yet? He’s driving up to your work so you can eat in his car. Falling asleep during college classes? He’ll show up with your favorite coffee order.

Roommate!Kyojuro who can read your mood with a single look and knows exactly what to say to get you cracking up. He’s emotionally intelligent and gives you massive side eye if you try to lie and say you’re feeling fine when you’re clearly not.

Roommate!Kyojuro who makes you do silly TikToks with him and has countless random pictures of you doing the most mundane shit in his camera roll. Most of the photos he takes are ruined somehow; there’s always a glare of light or you move at the last moment. Among those god-awful cryptid pics are albums upon albums of pictures of you two together. All photos from trips you’ve taken, those impulsive 3 am outings, and movie nights with you passed out on his shoulder.

Roommate!Kyojuro who sends you a meme when you’re both supposed to be asleep just to hear you laugh through the wall separating your rooms.

Roommate!Kyojuro who pokes his head into the kitchen the moment he hears pots and pans being moved around. “What’re you cooking?” 

Roommate!Kyojuro who relies on you for meals that aren’t takeout since he’s a pretty crummy cook, and though you’ve made progress teaching him, his rice still comes out crunchy and he overcooks most other things. Whenever you’re away for a few days he sends you pics of the meals he attempts by himself seeking your approval. Pls tell him his grilled cheese looks amazing, he’s so proud of it.

Roommate!Kyojuro who will actually RKO you if you even try to do the dishes. “You go through the trouble of cooking for me every day. I don’t want you to even look at those dishes, you hear me?” And if he finds out you did them, you’re in for an earful.

Roommate!Kyojuro who would never force you to come to the gym with him but always insists that he come along when you go. His close proximity wards off creeps and he’s an amazing hype man so you never complain, but he genuinely just wants to make sure you’re safe while you’re there.

Roommate!Kyojuro who cuddles with you on the couch and gets sucked into your tv dramas. He has the funniest reactions to shady moments and fights. He never fails to fall asleep at integral moments and needs to be briefed again, but acts so betrayed when he catches you watching them without him.

Roommate!Kyojuro who gets into crochet and makes you cute little plushies and socks. He’s SO proud to present his first full blanket to you and melts into a puddle whenever he finds you snuggled up with it.

Roommate!Kyojuro who has a bit of a “stray problem” and is always feeding the stray cats that roam around your apartment complex. At least two or three of them have become 100% indoor cats and he considers them his children. Takes them to get all their shots, sends you clips of them doing silly stuff while you’re at work, and crochets toys for them. He tears up when the most aloof kitty starts batting one of the crochet mice around. Sends you a frantic text of “HE TOUCHED IT!!!” 

Roommate!Kyojuro who mindlessly tosses your laundry in with his if he sees it building up.

Roommate!Kyojuro who sneaks your shampoo because he likes the way you smell and acts dumb when you complain about running out so fast.

Roommate!Kyojuro who respects you too much to steal your panties when they get mixed in with his laundry but desperately humps into his fist later that night to thoughts of you filling them. A hand clapped over his mouth to smother his loud whimpers so he doesn’t alert your sleeping form through the paper-thin wall between your rooms. 

Roommate!Kyojuro who wants to tell you how everything you do inadvertently turns him on, but would rather die than risk fucking up your friendship.

Roommate!Kyojuro that always cums with your name on his lips without fail, golden-red eyes rolled back as he fantasizes about your hands replacing his own. 

Roommate!Kyojuro who never forgot the time you were dared to kiss at a party in high school. The soft press of your plush lips against his trembling ones has been burnt into his mind, always surfacing when he’s rutting into a pillow, pretending it's you. He imagines kissing you so often it’s a wonder you don’t see the way his eyes stare at your lips when you drink from a straw or chew at a pen.

Roommate!Kyojuro who would do anything for you, but selfishly wishes you'd see him as more than a friend.

[sakuralovespossums]

Yandere Dazai x Fem Reader

(Part 1)

Yandere Dazai x fem y/n story, where Dazai had kidnapped y/n and is determined to persuade her to commit double suicide with him on a specific date. So y/n has to try to avoid falling for his mind games, all the while trying to escape before the day of their planned double suicide arrives.

Warning: Romanticized talks of suicide

During your captivity, Dazai acts very patient and calm (pretty much like his everyday self) almost like he’s isn’t holding you hostage in his own apartment.

He studies your flaws, personality, fears, traumas, everything to figure out how he can best manipulate and break you.

Every day he’ll ask you if you’ve decided to commit double suicide with him in a casual tone or silly act. If you say no, he’ll shrug and ask again the next day. They still have plenty of time before the date of their double suicide, he’ll break you eventually.

There’s a high chance you will eventually break. This is Dazai we’re talking about out. He wasn’t known for being the Port Mafia’s best interrogator for nothing.

If you still haven’t broken by the due date, he’ll be surprised (and maybe a bit impressed) by your mental durability. So he’ll just use more aggressive manipulation tactics.

He’ll take away more of your freedoms (books, drawing, tv, etc) to make you feel more isolated. He’ll also focus on finding what it is that keeps your sanity intact and break it.

During the time of your captivity, he’ll be trying to get to know you more and always ask questions about what your life was like, any loved ones, interests, etc.

Not just so that he can manipulate you, but also because he genuinely wants to get to know you more and form a real bond. You’re gonna be his suicide partner, after all!

You probably won’t get to know much about him though since he’s already pretty secretive of his past life. But he’ll tell you things like his favorite foods, books, his associates at the ADA and how much he likes to bother them.

I imagine a lot of moments between you two being shared in peaceful silence. Like, you guys eating dinner in quiet, cuddling on the couch together while watching TV, reading, or napping.

Dazai loves those moments, while you’re playing along as you think of a way to escape. He knows this though but doesn’t say or do anything about it since he knows you’ll eventually give in and learn to love it as he does. If not, well………like I said earlier, he still has time to work on that.

He’s a very affectionate and cuddly person. Always has you wrapped in his arms whenever you cuddle, sleep, or when you’re doing chores.

It scares you the way he easily sneaks up on you from behind and wraps his arms around you as you cook your breakfast. He nuzzles against your neck before asking why you left the bed (putting on a fake pout). You simply play along into your strange “loving couple” facade and say that you were just craving French toast. He kisses your shoulder and asks for some himself.

“Well, I would make some for you. But someone ate all the bread!”

“But belladonna!! It was just too delicious that I couldn’t help myself!”

“……………maybe I can…….go out and buy some—”

“No”

The finality in his voice as he whispered into your ear felt like a knife slicing into your heart.

What terrified you the most about your captor wasn’t his final plan with you (as concerning as that sounds) but rather the fact that you could sense an underlying darkness to him that kept you on edge.

Beneath his smiles, goofy acts, loving acts, and comforting demeanor was a dangerous being who you had no idea if you could manage to outsmart or avoid not being killed/injured by.

“What if we made French toast our final meal together!!”

“I won’t do it, Dazai. Not matter what you say or do, I won’t let you drag me with you to death.”

“………………my love, who said I would drag you with me? When we both leave this life, I’ll make sure we do it willingly together.”

That might have been the most horrifying sentence you’ve ever heard.

[hetafice]

allies taking care of a sick/injured partner :

𖤐 ִֶָ 𓂃 🧷

request: How many characters will you write for at once? I’d love to see the Main 8 taking care of their partner as they’re bedridden (sick, injured, etc). If I have to limit it to a certain # of characters, just lmk for the future and you can pick whoever you’ve got the most ideas for for this? 

a/n: i think the limit will be capped at 4-5. for the sake of cohesion i chose to write for each of the allies. enjoy!

America

He will absolutely baby you. To the point where it could easily become overwhelming. 

In general, he suffers from the too-much gene in combination with his savior complex. Any injury on your end just exacerbates it.

I think he would also feel guilty on some level that he let you get injured in the first place, even if it was not his fault. So to overcompensate, he will refuse to let you do anything even remotely strenuous.

It starts off genuinely helpful. If you’re having a hard time moving around he’ll gladly help you sit up or move around. The issues arise once you start healing up a bit more. Rather than let you return to taking care of yourself, he’ll drag out the process for as long as possible.  

It does not matter if you’ve been okay for weeks and can function normally, he’ll still insist on completing menial tasks for you. He might also try and prohibit you from doing anything he perceives as dangerous. If you put up a big enough fight he’ll let you do it, but only in his presence. 

 If you don’t mind being babied, great--he’ll gladly keep it up. If you don’t want to constantly be hovered over, and voice that to him, expect some pouting from his end.

Russia

Like Alfred, he is similarly overbearing but will relent if asked to do so. 

Outwardly, Ivan is not a super emotional guy. However, if his partner was sick to the point of being bedridden, some of his emotions might start slipping through the cracks.

He’s protective and nurturing by nature, but past circumstances have forcefully muted that part of his personality. Your being sick would absolutely kickstart those instincts again. He would perfectly fill the role of a caretaker, cooking, cleaning, and nursing you back to health to the best of his ability,

He would be extra attentive in the mornings before he had to go to work. He’d check up on you, help you take your medication, and would try to boost your strength by cooking a healthy breakfast.

The constant checkups could get suffocating, but he genuinely only wants you to recover as fast as possible. And in his mind, that means being around you constantly to monitor your condition, or to provide whatever aid necessary.

Your being really sick serves as a way for him to realize how much he truly treasures you.

China

He is constantly badgering you about preserving your health, so when he first notices you aren’t feeling well he is far from pleased. When you tell him exactly what’s wrong he’s even more upset.

He’s a fixer, and he immediately jumps at the opportunity to find some remedy whether you want him to or not. The second he hears a sniffle from you, he’s already handing you mugs of strange concoctions and loading your meals with as many nutrient-rich vegetables as possible.

He’ll whip out holistic medicines that no one has heard of in centuries (and honestly, they might just work lol)

After the first time you get sick, he would also start trying to give you organic and highly medicinal foods, but as a preventative measure.

In parts of China, some people recommend drinking hot water in response to any small ailment. To Yao, it's a cure for everything, and from the first time you wake up in a cold sweat to the last, you’ll be handed glasses of barely drinkable water. Good luck with that. Honestly, who knows? Maybe drinking half a liter of hot water will stop whatever sickness you have from developing further -- or at the very least, distract you from your symptoms?

England 

He is the type to say “I told you so” and pretend to not care, while still actively taking care of you.

He’ll chastise you for getting sick, maybe even going as far as to threaten to not take care of you should it happen again, but when it inevitably does he starts taking care of you without a second thought.

He’ll make sure you are comfortable, and have taken your meds on time, and will even prep tea for you if need be.

This scolding while simultaneously nursing you back to health is nothing new. You start sniffling or coughing, and he tells you that you should know better and not count on him to take care of him. Then only a few hours later when you’re sitting down somewhere trying to work on something you’ll see him checking up on you from the hallway from the corner of your eye.

He will by no means dote on you, but he makes sure to lend a helping hand whenever possible. 

France

You’ll be left primarily to your own devices with this one.

Francis understands that you’re injured, and finds it very unfortunate, but unless you are seriously hurt you are going to be fending for yourself.

He won’t leave you completely out to dry though. Should you need something he’ll do his best to get it--but most of the menial practical tasks that come with taking care of someone unwell will be left to either you or a medical professional to manage.

His role is mainly to keep you comfortable and entertained. This is where he feels more confident taking the reins.

He’ll employ a variety of methods to make sure you’re relaxed. He’ll sporadically bring you glasses of red wine, help you with your skincare routine, offer massages, etc.

When it comes to leisure, rest, and relaxation he’s got it down pat.

Out of all of them, he would be the most likely to delegate a medical professional to come and take care of you in his stead. It’s not that he does not care, or feels inadequate; it’s just that someone trained in matters of rehabilitation would probably be more suited to the job--and what kind of partner would he be if he did not offer you the best of the best?

[beababoobies]

Always Forever - Larry Johnson

finding out that the boy you’ve loved your entire life was just waiting for it to end isn’t how you wanted to spend that night. obvious warnings for hurt no comfort and intense angsty. Teeny mentions of intimacy.

words : 0.8k

You knew Larry wasn’t always all that together mentally. Everyone who knew him deep down knew that. But even in his off days, you managed. You would let him sob and shake in your arms as you gently prt his hair. You could do it for hours. You had been doing it for years now. Even then, you felt happy to be so close to your love.

And his good days were always so lovely; painting and giggling and kissing for hours on end, his hands never seemed to really leave you, on your hair, waist, hand in hand, hips, thigh. Even sometimes late at night, just before going to sleep, he’d hold you from behind and whisper small nothings of affirmation and pure adoration.

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, you know that?”

“Every moment I’ve spent without you is a moment I regret living.”

You’ll hum appreciatively in response, and he’ll only stop when he can hear you start to softly snore, chest rising and falling under his hands. He’ll kiss all over your face softly before sneaking out the apartment’s back door into the cold night with a cigarette, coming back smelling like burnt nicotine. You knew more than he realized, but you never said a thing, because you knew that it could send him into a spiral.

But those on and off days only lasted until about two weeks ago, when he hadn’t looked, felt, or acted like himself. Even when you tried being intimate he felt so far away, cold, like he was already dead underneath you. He kept insisting that it was fine, he just felt a little off, but that felt like a lie. It got to the point where he would flinch away from your touch, and you pulled away to go to the bedroom and try to figure out what you could do. Were you supposed to just keep trying? That’s all you’d been doing for weeks on end.

You still slept in the same bed, that was a good sign, you’d supposed. When you inquired Sal about it, you got met with what you’d just been thinking. ‘It’s just a bad spell, Y/N.’ and you just nodded along and you finally decided to drop it. Sure, you’d tried everything that worked before - giving him his space, words of affirmation, distractions, intimacy, physical reassurance. It hadn’t been working. But maybe this was just a time thing. One more week went by.

Wednesday morning, your boyfriend was back to his old self. Kissing you good morning, nosing your neck to wake you up. You had breakfast on the couch together and talked about art projects, video games, food places you wanted to try. It was him again. And it was so genuinely him and so quickly him that it terrified you. You wanted to question. But, in the end you asked yourself, why were you scared at your boyfriend being happy? That wasn’t fair to him. So the rest of the day was spent comfortably.

He made lunch for you both as you worked side by side on a new canvas. You had sketched it out together - a picture of both of you, holding hands in a windy corn field in the middle of nowhere, as the sun set. You had the magnificent idea to both do half of it, so your unique painting styles could meet in the middle and make the piece so perfectly both of you.

But by the evening, after a comforting home meal you had cooked together, intimacy that you hadn’t had in weeks, and words of affirmation whispered into your hair as you fell asleep, he had crept out for his nightly cig. You sighed softly, having faked falling asleep to make sure he came back in on time. But he didn’t. And before you knew it, you heard a blood-curdling scream from outside. You sat up immediately, sprinting out the back door in just your sleep shirt, rain pouring down on your, mud under your feet.

And you froze.

All you could see was Sal, knelt down at the bottom of the treehouse ladder, sobbing. Your heart raced, because you knew exactly what had happened. You turned around and keeled over, trying not to throw up. Trying to catch your breath, feel the ground under your feet, the old wet of the rain falling down your face, cry, scream, anything.

but nothing is would work. The grass seemed to be turning and twisting not keeping its shape, colours weren’t staying properly, the water didn’t look real -

you let out a final groan of agony before blacking out fully, falling to the ground with a soft thud. The last thing you heard was a panicked Sal trying to get you to wake up, please wake up. Not you too, please.

I can’t lose both of you.

[the-wize-1]

Thawing the Widow (A Natasha Romanoff Story): Chapter 5 - Spidey Saves the Day

Chapter Summary: Being homeless is like... kind of hard. Cat hustles a girl scout and nearly gets mugged. Luckily, there's a red and blue superhero with a high-pitched voice ready to save her.

Chapter Warnings: Mugging, Fighting

Notes: Hope you enjoy this chapter! As always, please reblog and like and share this story if you’re liking it! Also I think I’m going to start adding gifs to hopefully attract more readers. :)) Please don’t repost it anywhere else impersonating me.

Thawing the Widow Masterlist

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January - One(ish) month later - Soup kitchen

“What up, Maxine?”

“Hey, Beck,” Cat said.

“Back again?”

“Can’t seem to stay away.”

Beck slid Cat a piping hot bowl of pasta. He winked at her. “Well, for such a flattering compliment, this one’s on the house.”

“How generous,” she commented dryly.

He slapped a buttered slice of bead onto her tray. “My pleasure, little lady.”

Beck was a volunteer at the soup kitchen. He couldn’t have charged Cat for the pasta if he wanted to. Cat had been coming every now and then for about a month, and it was easily the best decision she ever made. Not only did the food taste great— or maybe she was just so hungry she no longer cared— but no one asked any questions, barely anyone decided to strike up a conversation with her, and Taco was allowed to sit on one of the chairs if he was quiet and not disruptive.

Beck had told her he was nineteen, had three sisters and a brother, had been volunteering at the soup kitchen since he was thirteen, and also worked at a local deli. He was in med school, and was going to be a neurosurgeon. He’d asked her questions too, but Cat always had to sidestep them or lie. She liked Beck, but the further away she held him at length, the better it was for the both of them. To him, her name was Maxine Wheeler, her parents died when she was young, and her dog was called Sandwich.

She didn’t know why she felt the need to lie about Taco’s name, but the less he knew, the better.

Cat tugged on Taco’s leash, leading him towards one of the tables in the corner. She’d gotten him a red one, so she could tie him to a lamppost whenever he wasn’t allowed in supermarkets or libraries. She wasn’t concerned that he would run away, but rather that if someone saw a dog without a leash, they might take him away. But if they saw a dog tied to a lamppost, they might think, Hmm, looks like someone tied this dog to a lamp post. That must mean someone owns this dog.

At the beverages station, Cat made herself a cup of coffee. It was easily the most repulsive watery coffee she had ever tasted, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. This turn of phrase applied to her quite literally now. At the end of the day, she’d rather have a cup of disgusting watery coffee than nothing.

She unceremoniously dumped five packets of sugar into her coffee and stirred in a large amount of milk, diluting the bitterness tenfold. She drained half of the cup in a single gulp, the hot liquid scorching her throat.

Cat took a seat at a table and fed Taco the piece of bread on her tray. He gnawed on it aggressively. She felt bad she didn’t have any meat to give him, but then she saw Beck walking over. He had a small plate with a chicken leg and sausages in hand.

“Beck, you’re amazing. I could marry you right now.”

Beck grinned at Taco, who had leapt on the chicken leg almost immediately after seeing it. “I think I might be too old for you.”

“Seriously,” Cat said. “We both appreciate it.”

“Aw, it was no trouble. Just leftovers from breakfast. We would’ve had to throw it away anyhow.”

Cat didn’t know Beck to be the type to waste food, but she was still grateful to him. She gave him a rare, genuine smile as he waved goodbye, heading back to the serving table.

After he was out of sight, Cat turned back to her meal and began to think. She’d had lots of time to do that these past few days, with no one but Beck and Taco to talk to. She saw other kids at the park, of course, but they never came to talk to her. She noticed the looks the mothers gave her, and how they whispered and pointed. She couldn’t blame them— she knew how she must’ve looked to them. Unkempt and shifty, with her backpack holding all of her belongings.

Cash was a problem.

Cat was down to just a handful of twenties, which wouldn’t last her long at all. It was frightening how fast it had all vanished. Money spent on food, warmer clothes, a bigger backpack, supplies at the cheapest convenience store. Money that dwindled away, day after day. Maybe Trevor hadn’t really had that much money in his drawer to begin with, and maybe Cat had just thought that was the case because she was so unused to seeing it.

“Mo’ money mo’ problems” did not apply here.

Less money meant more problems. Significantly more problems.

No more washing her clothes at the laundromats. No more food or supplies. She’d been surviving off the soup kitchen’s meals, but she was careful to travel to several different kitchens in the city so that no one would notice her consistency and call CPS.

The cold was definitely a problem. New York winters were rough, and Cat only had the shabby gray coat she’d gotten from a homeless shelter and a couple of blankets in her bag to brave the cold. She was no longer going to homeless shelters to sleep. She didn’t feel comfortable being so vulnerable amongst a bunch of untrustworthy strangers she barely knew. Who knew if she was going to wake up with half of her possessions stolen?

For that entire week, she’d found less windy spots to bundle herself with coats and blankets, Taco wrapped in them, and eventually drift off to sleep. Sometimes, she hid behind the bookshelves in the library after closing hours, where it was warm and cozy, and fell asleep. But she wasn’t doing that anymore, because one of the librarians had caught her in the morning and chased her off. They were being more careful now.

For the first time, Cat was scared.

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January - Apartment Lobby

Cat was scared, which meant she was desperate. And a desperate Cat was a Cat with great ideas.

Wonderful, amazing, life-saving, great ideas.

For instance: pretending to be a Girl Scout in order to get free unused cans from people’s apartments.

What a great idea, right?

She couldn’t keep going to the soup kitchens every day. It was tiring to travel to another one every day, and if she went too often they might call CPS on her. She’d gotten the Girl Scout idea from seeing one of them walk into an apartment, bags in hand. There was only one problem: Cat didn’t look like a Girl Scout. At all.

Luckily, that sort of problem could be easily fixed. She’d cleaned herself off using sanitary wipes and a shower she’d found in an old gym, switched her dirty clothes out for clean ones, and arranged her hair so that it no longer resembled a rat’s nest.

Now, there was only one thing she needed.

“I’ll give you ten dollars for it.”

The Girl Scout wrinkled her nose at her. “Ew, no! Why would I give you my sash, anyway?”

They were both standing in the lobby of the apartment, close enough to the entrance so that they were out of earshot of the disapproving receptionist. Cat had managed to flag the girl down as she was on her way inside, holding two empty black bags meant to be filled with cans. The apartment had a no pets policy, so she’d had to tie Taco to a pole outside.

The Girl Scout was maybe a little older than Cat, and looked every part like a Little Miss Perfect. She had long, curled dark hair in a ponytail and tiny manicured nails. She was decked out in a crisp Girl Scout uniform, looking like a miniature summer camp cabin leader. Her eyebrows were scrunched up in a permanent tiny frown.

“How about twenty?”

“Are you kidding me? Mom will kill me if I tell her I traded twenty dollars for my sash.”

“You could always tell her you lost it,” Cat suggested, but the girl reacted as if she’d suggested flinging herself into the middle of a roaring fireplace.

“Lost it!?” Miss Perfect all but shrieked. “What makes you think I am the sort of person who just loses my sash? All of my badges are on this thing. Do you see these?” She violently stabbed a finger towards a badge on her sash. “They were earned by sweat, blood, and tears.”

Cat squinted at the shiny little sewn-on patches on her sash. “Yeah, ‘Finding a Daisy In the Woods’ sounds like it took some serious training.”

“Whatever,” Miss Perfect sniffed. “I don’t expect you to understand.” She looked Cat up and down with a snobbish expression. “Where are your parents, little girl?”

You’re not even that much older than me!

“Don’t have any.”

“Oh, that’s sad,” Miss Perfect said, unperturbed. “Well, if you need a sash so bad, you should become a Girl Scout, it’s not that hard. They’ll probably give you a sash then, but you probably won’t earn as many badges as me.”

If I was a Girl Scout, you’d bet I’d earn as many badges as you, Cat thought viciously . Probably two, three times as many, and then I’d parade them around just so I could see the stupid look on your stupid smug stupid face.

(What? No, Cat wouldn’t consider herself a competitive person.)

“Well, I don’t want to be a Girl Scout.”

“What?” Miss Perfect asked, aghast. “Why?”

Because I’d rather die than wear one of those tiny matching uniforms, Cat nearly said. Instead, she opted for, “‘Cause I’m homeless.”

She gasped, a manicured hand flying up to her mouth. “What?!”

“Yes, I’m a sad, sad, homeless orphan,” Cat said impatiently. “And you’re supposed to be a friggin’ Girl Scout. Aren’t you guys supposed to be a bunch of walking Mother Teresas or something? Helping people is your whole thing.”

“You’re homeless?” she repeated, like she couldn’t wrap her head around the idea. Her eyes had turned wide and disbelieving. “But you’re my age.”

“It’s a long story, okay? Anyway, that’s why I need your sash. So I can get cans from people who don’t need them.”

“What are you going to do with them?”

Cat stared at her like she was stupid. “Eat the stuff inside. What else would I do with them?”

“That is dishonorable!”

“Not really.” Cat was not getting through to this girl. She needed to go in another way. She thought for a moment. “Think about this.” Which might be pretty difficult for you. “You’re collecting cans from people, right? So where do you think all those cans are gonna go?”

“Well… the food bank, of course.”

“Right, and that’s probably going to go towards people like me, homeless people. So by giving me your sash, it’s basically the same thing, but faster. See?” Miss Perfect didn’t look very convinced, so Cat added, “Plus, you’d get twenty dollars from me. That’s probably enough to buy you two sashes.”

Miss Perfect thought about this for a long time. She was silent for so long that Cat was beginning to think that she was ignoring Cat to see if she’d go away, but then she finally said, “Fine. Fifty dollars and we have a deal.”

She stuck her hand out. Cat didn’t shake it.

“What? No,” Cat groaned. “You are seriously the worst Girl Scout ever.”

“Fifty,” she insisted, “or I walk.”

Clearly, Miss Perfect was watching too many action movies.

“Thirty,” Cat bartered.

“Fifty.”

“Thirty-five.”

“Fifty.”

Cat’s hands flew up. “Unbelievable. Do you not know how to barter?”

“Barter?”

“You know! You want one price, I want another. I slowly start raising the price, you slowly start declining until we reach a satisfying consensus.”

Miss Perfect’s frown deepened. “Why would I do that? Then I get less money.”

Un-freaking-believable,

Out of the corner of her eye, Cat noticed their argument had drawn the attention of a few men, lurking in the corner of the lobby. They were dressed darkly, in baggy clothes, and looked very shifty, whispering and laughing to themselves. One or two of them was smoking, filling the lobby with the smell of it. Cat didn’t like the way they were looking at the two of them.

Cat wasn’t going to win this argument, and she really needed to get out of there. However, there was also no freaking way she was about to pay this girl fifty dollars for a little brown piece of fabric with colorful other pieces of fabric on it. She made a show of sighing and rifled through her backpack, opening a small zipper in the lining where she kept her cash. She didn’t like looking in there because it was depressing how little there was now. She stuffed a handful of ones in the center and covered them with a ten and a twenty. Cat held the cash up to her, covering the bills just enough so that it looked enough to be fifty dollars.

Miss Perfect’s eyes widened in awe. She’d probably never been given this much cash to spend in her life. She reached to take it, but Cat held it back from her reach.

“Sash first.”

Miss Perfect crossed her arms. “How do I know you won’t just take it and run?”

“How do I know you won’t just take my money and run?”

“At the same time, then.” She slid her sash off her shoulder and held it out. They exchanged their items.

“Better hide it in your pocket, fast,” Cat suggested, before Miss Perfect could inspect the cash she’d been given for too long. She lowered her voice and darted her eyes at the darkly dressed men purposefully. “You don’t want anyone stealing it. And you’ve gotta tell your mom that you lost the sash or something, so you can’t have her seeing that money.”

“Huh,” Miss Perfect said, surprised by the reasoning of this. “Good idea.”

As Cat had expected, she didn’t bother counting the cash. Rookie. She probably had enough faith in humanity to expect that even scrawny homeless orphans were trustworthy enough not to attempt to scam her out of receiving her money. In a way, Cat envied her.

Cat eyed her bags, thinking of how full her backpack already was. “Hey, uh— you won’t mind if I take those too, do you? I’ll need something to collect the cans with.” She didn’t think Miss Perfect would actually give them to her, but it was worth a shot.

To her surprise, the girl handed them over. Cat was nearly about to say thanks, but then she asked, “This is giving me points, right?”

“Points?” Cat echoed. Is she serious?

“Yeah, like in class. You get good points for doing good things.”

The intelligence of this girl was fascinating and terrifying at the same time. Cat wanted to inspect her under a microscope to see what other miracles her brain might produce. Yet at the same time she wanted to flee in case whatever disease Miss Perfect had might be contagious.

“Yeah, sure, you get ‘points’ for this.”

“Great. Well, it was a pleasure doing business with you, random homeless girl.”

“Likewise,” Cat responded.

She stole a glance at the darkly dressed men in the corner, and saw that they had stopped laughing. Most of them were watching her like hawks. Cat left the building in a hurry, not bothering to say goodbye to the Girl Scout.

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January - Outside

The Girl Scout routine had been a success. Cat had done her best to make herself even more presentable, copying the sensible ponytail Miss Perfect had put her hair in. She washed her face three times in a restroom of a dingy little restaurant and practiced her most sweet, innocent smile in the mirror. It made her facial muscle stiff. She hadn’t smiled that wide in a long time.

It surprised her how many people were willing to give food away. Maybe her smile still had some usefulness. Or maybe it was her young, hopeful face. A lot of people asked if they could pet Taco, so maybe it was that. By the time Cat had collected cans to fill up a bag or so, it was getting dark.

She was hoping to find a quiet place where she and Taco could enjoy a can of cold chicken noodle soup with the single metal spoon that she carried with her, but of course that wouldn’t be happening anytime soon.

In New York, the air was filled with so much honking, voices, music, and movement that it made it hard to focus at times. But Cat had been living on the streets long enough to sense when someone was following her. She’d see reflections of the same people in glass doors, or hear the same jingling of clothing accessories behind her. Sometimes, she would get a weird feeling in the pit of her stomach.

It was usually nothing but paranoia. The people who followed her usually meant no ill will. Usually, they were just heading towards the same direction she was. But this time, it was different.

Cat had recognized the four men who were walking behind her. Darkly dressed, baggy clothing, mischievous expressions. She’d turned three corners, and they were still a few yards away from her. Close enough so that she could hear their footsteps, clumsily falling on the New York sidewalk. They weren’t laughing or talking. They were silent.

Cat walked faster. She tugged Taco closer to her. Taco seemed to sense that there was trouble. Instead of pitching a fit and plopping down on the sidewalk, the beagle hurried along and matched her pace. Cat inwardly thanked whoever was the god of beagles, because they’d come through for her on this one.

It’s probably nothing. They’re probably a bunch of nice people. Like… really intense but nice dentists who are following me because they’re concerned for my dental health.

Even the voice inside her head sounded ridiculous.

Don’t turn back. If they ask you to stop, keep walking. If they walk faster, you walk faster. If they start running, run like hell. But don’t run yet, in case that makes them run. If they catch you, turn around and punch them in the face like you did to Trevor that one time.

At the word Trevor, a shiver passed through her body. If she had the nerve to actually punch her uncle, she should have the nerve to punch these random guys who may or may not be a bunch of nice dentists. She’d clocked Trevor right in the face. The punch had landed somewhere next to his nose— somewhere squishy. (She preferred not to revisit what happened to her after that had happened.)

No, a punch wouldn’t do it. There were— how many?— about four of them, and one of her. She needed her knife. The kitchen knife she’d stolen from Trevor’s kitchen. She suddenly remembered Natasha’s knife as it sliced through the ropes, and cursed herself for not stealing one of them when she left. The woman had to have at least ten of them, missing one wouldn’t have done her any harm. Pushing the bag of canned goods into the crook of her elbow, Cat reached into her jacket pocket, and with great relief, noted that the kitchen knife she’d stashed in there hadn’t been stolen.

Cat fisted the hand that was holding the bag of canned goods. She could feel her heartbeat all the way throughout her body, thrumming in her ears, ramming against her ribs, pulsing at her wrist.

Cat steeled herself. You’re not scared.

As she told herself this, her grip on Taco’s leash had tightened so that her knuckles were white. She didn’t realize how fast she was walking until she took a glance at Taco and saw his legs moving faster than usual.

Her heart was thumping against her chest.

Cat had been so deep in thought that she hadn’t realized that she’d accidentally wandered into a darker part of New York. She hadn’t been here before, and she certainly had no idea where she was. The narrow streets were gloomy, lit creepily by streetlights. Buildings loomed above her, hiding the moonlight. Even creepier, she could still hear the footsteps. This was not where she wanted to be.

Thumpthumpthumpthumpthump —

“Hey!” one of the men yelled. “Little girl! Are you lost?”

It wasn’t friendly enough to be convincing. She walked faster. She made up a rhythm in her head that went to the beat of her steps. Maybe if she focused on that hard enough, the footsteps and voices would fade away… But no luck.

“We can help you, if you’re lost!” a different voice called. It was deeper.

“Yeah, just turn back around!”

“Hey! Why’re you in such a hurry, little lady?”

Cat turned her head back, quickly. They were closer than they had been before. “I’m not lost!” she called. “Leave me alone, please.”

There was a sprinkling of laughter.

Cat’s thoughts were flying every which way, her mind was a mess. What was she going to do? It would be dumb to turn around. It would be dumber to stop. But what would happen if she just ignored them? Cat only had time to notice that her footsteps were slowing down before the men moved on her.

It all happened so fast.

She didn’t have time to scream, let alone grab out her kitchen knife and make the decision to stab one of them. One of the men smashed into her, pulling her into an abandoned alleyway. The rest surrounded her. The canned goods crashed to the ground, cans rolling in every which way. The sash was ripped off of her shoulder violently, and it fluttered to the ground.

“Taco!” Cat screamed.

She didn’t know why she was screaming for the beagle when it was her being attacked. Maybe it was easier being worried about someone else’s safety than her own.

“TACO!”

There was more laughter from the men.

“What the hell is she screaming about?” the man with the deep voice rumbled. “Is she hungry?”

“Whaddya lookin’ at me for, man? I don’t freakin’ know anything about kids.”

Cat scrambled to her feet. She had to strain her eyes to see the dark shapes of the four men, all standing above her. She scanned her surroundings, looking for Taco. With an inward sigh of relief, she noticed that the beagle had retreated in a dark shadow. Part of the red leash was lying on the ground, illuminated by the circle of light cast by a street lamp. Cat hoped the muggers wouldn’t notice as well. More so, she prayed that Taco wouldn’t try and bark at the muggers, which would be sweet but unhelpful.

Deep Voice picked up a fallen can of chili from his feet. “Why do you need so much food, Fake Girl Scout? You have so much money.”

“Don’t you recognize us?” another asked. Cat could make out a bright red fedora on his head. It clashed horribly with his hair.

“We saw you give that Girl Scout some money,” chimed Deep Voice.

“It looked like a lot of money,” agreed Red Fedora.

“You got any more in that backpack?”

“How ‘bout you share some of that money with us, huh?”

“There’s no more left.” Cat hated that she couldn’t stop her voice from shaking. She tried to make it sound braver. “Too bad, so sad. So suck it.”

One of the other mens’ smiles turned menacing. “I think she’s lying.”

He was essentially a giant. Every part of his body looked like it had been enlarged and stretched out by some type of machine. His muscles bulged on his neck— which was a weird place to notice muscles bulging, but whatever.

“How about you show us what’s in that backpack of yours, and we’ll see for ourselves?”

It was at that point Cat started screaming. First it was nonsensical yelling, then it turned into cries for help. “HELP! HELP!”

No one came. The only response to her shouts was jeering from the men. She realized that no one was coming. Of course, no one was stupid enough to get in the middle of a mugging with dangerous men in the middle of the night. In no time, her fear morphed into anger, then she was cursing and swearing up a storm at them. She wouldn’t repeat the things she said, because they weren’t very nice things.

It only made them laugh harder.

“My! This one’s got a filthy mouth!”

“It’s getting annoying. Shut her up!”

Cat refused to shut up. She screamed and screamed and screamed, until the giant man clamped his hand over her mouth. It was so large, it covered the entire bottom half of her face. She flailed around in his grip and chomped down on one of his fingers. Giant Hand Man withdrew his hand with a howl of pain.

That seemed to make him mad. Red Fedora threw her against a wall and held her there, which knocked the air out of her so that she stopped yelling for a moment. Her backpack was still hanging onto her shoulders. She heard something in there crunch painfully. Before she could regain control of her breathing, Giant Hand Man reared back and punched her in the stomach. Cat’s head jerked forward as pain exploded where his fist had rammed into her abdomen. The laughter had ceased.

The last man was standing a little further back. “Jeez,” he whispered to Giant Hand Man, “no need to be so rough. She’s just a kid.” His voice was higher than the rest. He seemed younger, and a little uneasy with it all. Cat hadn’t heard Young Guy participate in the taunting and laughing. He was glancing around like he was expecting to be caught any moment.

“She’s a bitch,” Giant Hand Man replied.

Damn right I am. Cat spat right in the Giant Hand’s eye. She cursed at him again.

He recoiled in disgust, wiping the spit off of his face with a roar. “The hell did you just say to me?”

She saw the blow coming but her shoulders were pushed against the wall— she couldn’t do anything to stop it. She struggled helplessly as the man’s hand connected with the right side of her cheek. It stung.

In the darkly lit alley, the Giant Hand Man’s face looked startlingly like Trevor’s. Cat was still. Her arms hung uselessly at her sides, the right side of her face burning.

“Where’s the money?” he demanded.

“I told you, idiot,” Cat snarled through gritted teeth, “there’s no more money.”

“Check her backpack,” Deep Voice suggested.

Giant Hand Man reached for her shoulder, and Cat reacted by kicking him hard in the groin. He collapsed with a strangled groan. Before she could kick Red Fedora in the face and run, both him and Deep Voice secured her arms so that she was pressed against the wall. Deep Voice maneuvered her so that Red Fedora could wrench the backpack from her. He tossed it to Young Guy, who nearly dropped it.

“Dang,” he muttered. “This thing is heavy.”

“Quit messing around and find the money,” Red Fedora snapped.

Young Guy fumbled with the zippers, opening and closing all the pockets and rooting through her stuff. He tossed some of her clothes on the ground as he searched for it.

“Hey!” Cat protested. “Don’t just throw my stuff on the ground! It’s going to get dirty!”

Red Fedora shook her so hard that Cat could nearly feel her brain rattling around in her head. “Shut up!”

Young Guy looked up. “There’s nothing in here.”

“Give me that!”

Red Fedora let go of Cat’s arm rifled through the bag. Deep Voice’s attention had been diverted; his grip on her other arm was starting to loosen. With her right arm free, Cat’s hand dropped to her coat pocket, where her knife was. Giant Hand Man was helping Red Fedora look through her bag, with no success.

“I already told you, dimwits,” Cat said, turning her voice into an indifferent, bored drawl. “There’s nothing in there. Zip. Zilch. Nada.”

Giant Hand Man turned to Red Fedora with an almost laughable sheepishness. “There ain’t nothing’ here, man. We should just go home.”

Red Fedora turned on her. “Don’t lie to me, girl!”

“Hey, listen,” Cat said. She was no longer scared. These were a bunch of silly men whose blows couldn’t hurt her, and she didn’t have anything that they wanted. “You’re in denial. I get it. I’ve been there. But trying to beat up a little girl while your buddies are holding her against the wall ain’t the way to go about it.”

“I know you’ve got more money hidden,” he repeated. “Where is it?”

“Trust me, if I had money to give, I’d sure give it to you. Only, you chose the wrong homeless orphan to terrorize tonight. Facts are, I’m broke, dude. And you’re just pathetic.”

That did it. He viciously backhanded her. The blow made her ears ring and the blood pound in her ears. This time, Cat didn’t stop yelling.

“Okay, fine! You really wanna know where the money is? It’s at the North Pole with Santa’s goddamn reindeers!”

Another punch. It didn’t faze Cat. Her cheek was numb. She had taken worse hits before. She felt herself slipping back into an old routine. Before Red Fedora could strike her again, something weird happened.

“HEY!” a voice called out. It was a high-pitched male voice, coming from above their heads. “That isn’t very nice!”

Thwip! Thwip!

Two strands of a translucent-white material attached themselves to each of Red Fedora’s wrists. Cat saw his face transform from anger to shock, then increasing horror as the white material yanked him upwards into the air.

“Karen,” the same voice said, quieter, “that was your cue to do the thing.”

Cat had extremely good hearing, but even she had to strain her ears in order to hear the sound of a robotic voice going, “My apologies. I wasn’t sure what you meant.”

The voice sighed. “Just do the sedative web thingies.”

“Sedative webs initiated.”

There was another thwip, the noise of something hitting flesh, then Red Fedora’s groaning fell suspiciously silent. Cat’s, and the other three men’s, gazes followed the sound of the groan to see a blue and red figure perched on a balcony about five stories above.

“Howdy, gentlemen,” Spider-Man said pleasantly. He tilted his head towards Cat. “And lady. I just have one question for you all. Why do you need four guys to mug one little girl?”

“It’s Spider-Man!” Giant Hand Man gasped.

“Hey! You know me! Then you should know that I don’t condone mugging people in dark alleys.”

“Wait! Wait, wait— ahhhhhhhhh!”

Giant Hand Man’s screams followed Red Fedora’s as he was yanked up into the air as well. Cat was shocked how easily Spider-Man was able to pull him up, considering how his lean frame compared to Giant Hand Man’s hulking mass of muscle.

“Sedative web!” Spider-Man called as he shot a strand of web towards him, cutting his screaming short. Cat saw Giant Hand Man’s hand fall down to his chest like he had fallen asleep.

“First of all,” Spider-Man continued conversationally, as if nothing strange had happened, “it’s cliche. Like, how many movies have you seen where people get mugged in dark alleys? Second of all— hey, where are you going, man?”

Spider-Man flipped down from his ledge, landing neatly in a stance on the ground. Deep Voice had been dumb enough to try and run away. Young Guy, who’d been trying to do the same thing, froze in his place. Spider-Man shot a web that landed in the middle of Deep Voice’s back and pulled on the strand, yanking the man back so hard that he flew over their heads and crashed into a Dumpster.

“Hey, you trying to leave without even saying goodbye?” asked Spider-Man, making his way towards the Dumpster. “Rude.”

Deep Voice got to his feet. His eyes were panicked. Once he realized that Spider-Man was after him, he changed tactics. With a cry, he started charging at him, fists raised. Spider-Man stopped walking towards him. He awkwardly stood there until Deep Voice was just a couple inches away from making contact before he caught his fist mid-air and flipped him hard on his back, as easy as someone might squash a cockroach. Deep Voice let out a long, drawn-out groan. Spider-Man threw him— yes, threw him — into the air and webbed him to the wall next to Giant Hand Man.

Spider-Man then turned to Young Guy, who already had his hands up. He was shaking like a leaf. “I-I’m a huge fan,” he said.

“Thanks. I appreciate that, man,” Spider-Man said amiably, pointing his web shooters towards his face. “Too bad you’re a huge jerk. Otherwise, we would’ve gotten along great.”

“W-wait!”

Spider-Man paused, humoring him. “What?”

“Um.” Clearly, Young Guy hadn’t expected that to work. His face held a shoot, what do I do now expression. “Please d-don’t hurt me!”

“Why?” Spider-Man’s voice was disgusted. “You were perfectly content to hurt this girl a few seconds ago. Why shouldn’t I give you the same treatment?”

“I didn’t even want to do this! The other guys, they’re my cousins! They made me come with them!” Young Guy babbled. “I didn’t even hurt her!”

“So? You could’ve stopped them. Did you?”

“Well, no, but—”

“But nothing. Bye now.” Spider-Man threw him up with the rest of the guys and stuck him to the wall, shooting two more sedative webs up to silence both Young Guy and Deep Voice.

“That’s a neat trick,” Cat commented, clutching Taco to her chest. While the chaos was going on, she’d grabbed him from the shadows to make sure the beagle hadn’t been trampled. Luckily, they were both still in one piece.

“What? Nah, it’s nothing. It’s just a little— thwip! Thwip! Bam!” He made und motions with his web shooters, mimicking the sounds they made.

“Are they completely knocked out?”

“Yep. Probably gonna stay that way for a bit, until the police find them. I left them a nice note, stuck it in that big hairy guy’s beard.”

“That was really cool of you to save my life. Thanks.”

“Hey, it’s what I do. Friendly neighborhood Spider-Man and all.” His lenses widened as he focused on her. “You okay?”

“I’ll be fine.”

A wave of exhaustion crashed over her. She swayed on her feet, nearly toppling over before Spider-Man steadied her. “Whoa, whoa, whoa— yeah, I don’t think so. You look pretty beat up. No offense.”

Cat imagined she looked awful. She could feel her right cheek burning and her left eye beginning to puff up. Her ribs ached from the hit she’d taken from Giant Hand Man. Not only that, but she probably had dark circles around her eyes from lack of sleep, messy hair, and generally looked like a homeless girl who’d lost a fight with a giant.

“I’m fine,” she repeated. It was her motto these days. She set Taco down on the ground and started picking up the fallen canned goods that had rolled away.

Spider-Man joined her on the ground. “Whew,” he said, loading his arms full of cans. He picked up nearly all of them at the same time, lifting them with ease. “Whaddya need all these for?”

“It’s food,” Cat said, picking up the torn Girl Scout sash. She could probably fix it with some duct tape from the soup kitchen. No one would even notice. “So I can eat. Duh.”

“Oh. Wait, are you—”

“Homeless? Orphaned? Pathetic? Yeah.” Cat was getting tired of explaining all this to people. But this was Spider-Man she was talking to, so she’d give him a pass. (She’d have to add a third tally to her mental Avengers I’ve Met list. Maybe her good-for-nothing luck was starting to be a little more good-for-something.) She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t a little in awe of him. But now that the adrenaline was ebbing away, she was feeling a little too drained and sleepy to properly fangirl.

“Oh, uh,” Spider-Man seemed embarrassed. He slid the armful of cans he was holding into her bag—

“Thanks,” Cat said.

—- and straightened. “I didn’t mean—”

“You sound younger than I thought you would,” Cat interrupted. She really didn’t want to get into the pity zone. “You sound like a kid.”

“What? No!” His voice raised an octave, sounding suspiciously panicky. Then, he not-so-subtly deepened his voice. “I mean— no, of course not. Why would you even think that?”

“Hey.” She raised her hands. “Just an observation, no need to get so defensive.” She tilted her head. “But the fact that you did get defensive makes me think I’m right.”

Spider-Man opened his mouth to realitate, but she talked over him.

“I’m not hating or anything. I think it’s super cool. But you should invest in one of those things— what are they called? Oh! Voice modulators. Yeah, they make your voice sound super weird, like Darth Vader.”

“Huh, I actually tried that once. Didn’t go so well. Which is not me admitting that you’re right, by the way,” he added on quickly.

“You don’t need to. I already know I’m right. But I can play along, if that makes you feel better, Spider-Boy.”

Spider-Man frowned at her. At least, Cat assumed that he was frowning because the mask creased a little in the center of where his eyebrows should be. “It’s Spider-Man.”

“Really? That seems a little misleading, since you’re obviously not a man.”

His shoulders sank a little. “You really think I should go with the voice modulator?”

“Not unless you don’t want people thinking you’re Spider-Boy.” Cat lowered her voice. “Don’t worry, though, I won’t tell anyone.”

“I’d appreciate that.” Spider-Man held out the bag full of cans as well as her backpack to her. He’d picked up all the items Young Guy had scattered all over the floor and zipped them shut inside her backpack.

“Thanks,” Cat found herself saying for the third or fourth time.

Spider-Man patted Taco on the head. “Whoa! Cute beagle.”

“Don’t encourage her,” Cat told him. “I think she’s getting full of herself.”

“What’s her name?”

“Taco.”

“That’s adorable!”

“I know. She doesn’t look like a taco, though. I named her that because the first time we met, she tried to steal my taco.”

“Good dog,” Spider-Man crooned at her.

“No,” Cat frowned. “Bad dog. Very bad dog.”

Spider-Man looked at her thoughtfully. “What’s your name?”

Cat nearly told him Maxine, but to her surprise, founding herself telling him her real name.

“It was nice meeting you, Cat. I gotta swing now—” He stopped to snicker at his own joke, then coughed. “Stopping crime and all. But is there somewhere I can drop you off? I know you don’t have, like, a house or anything,” he rushed on hurriedly, “but maybe like a shelter? Or— I don’t know— a warmer place? It’s pretty chilly out here.”

Cat almost declined his generous offer, but at that moment an idea at the back of her mind nudged her. She was cold, hungry, and tired. Collapsing in the middle of the street in this shady neighborhood was not the best of plans. No, she needed a place to stay, preferably a place with food and heaters. It had to be a place that allowed dogs and had food for Taco. But… where?

Suddenly, a light switched on in her brain, and Cat knew exactly where to go.

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

Notes: Our favorite redheaded assassin makes her return next chapter! What did you think of the Spider-Man interactions?

[vodika-vibes]

Hehehehehe

2nd request:

Love oo

Jango (thats for you) , undersea, and hurt/comfort.

POW

Summary: The Tritones, merfolk with fishtails, and the Cecaelia, octupi merfolk, have been at war for centuries. Battling for land and prestige and the right to rule the oceans. The Haliae, the sea nymphs, have always sided with the Tritones, while the Chordates, merfolk with eel heritage, have always sided with Cecaelia. You are a Chordate, recently conscripted to the war effort, and captured by a Tritone War Party. And now, you’re little more than a prisoner of war. At least your jailer isn’t cruel.

Pairing: Pre-Jango Fett x Reader

Word Count: 2669

Prompt: Undersea AU/Mermaid AU

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: So this took me all morning to write because I kept getting distracted. I hope you like it though!

“Dinner,” You scrunch up your nose as the night warden pushes a plate of kelp and some other leafy foods into your cell. You uncurl from where you were settled on your tail in the corner, and move the short distance to the place, absently lifting the greens to look for food you can actually eat.

You’re people are carnivores.

Obligate carnivores, even. You couldn’t digest this stuff if you tried.

But it seems like the Tritones seem to think that you can change your nature if you try hard enough.

Just one more reason why there will never be peace between the two sides.

“Being picky again, eel?”

You cast your gaze towards him, “It’s not being picky,” You counter flatly, the language of the Tritones awkward and clunky on your tongue, especially when compared to the more musical language of your own people. “I’m incapable of digesting this. Which I know that you know because I’ve told you multiple times.”

The guard opens his mouth to say something, only to stop when the door at the end of the hallway swings open, and a dark skinned Tritone swims down the hall.

“Prince Jango!” The guard snaps to attention, and you roll your eyes as you swim back to your corner. “What brings you down to the dungeons at this time of day?”

Prince Jango peers into your cell, and then at the plate of food sitting on the small table, before he looks back at the guard. “I’m ensuring that our guest isn’t being mistreated.”

“We would never!” The Guard genuinely sounds offended.

“Which is why you’re giving her food that she can’t eat?” The Prince asks with an arched brow.

The Guard pauses, “She might like it-”

Jango sighs, “You realize that this isn’t a question of like, right? Her people, genuinely, can’t digest plants. Their stomachs are meant for it.” He opens the cell door with his key, and swims in to take the plate, “Bring her a proper meal.”

“Ah…yes, my Prince.” The Guard bows and takes the plate before he swims away.

Jango turns his gaze to you, “I apologize for that.”

You wave your hand, dismissing his concerns, “It’s hardly the first time a Tritone or a Haliae have tried to make me more palatable for them.” You swim closer to the door, and then make a face. From the top of your head to the tip of your tail, you stand at almost 11 feet long. 

You can go from one corner of the cell to the opposite corner, and still have some of your tail coiled. These cells were not made for a Chordate…heck, you’re not even that long! You’re the runt in your family.

Jango is quiet for a moment, his dark eyes lingering on the way that your tail is still coiled in the corner, “Would you like to stretch your tail properly?”

You blink at him, “Is that allowed?”

He chuckles, “I am the Crowned Prince of Atlantis. Of course it’s allowed.”

You tilt your head, “You do know that I can swim faster than you, right?”

He just grins at you, “I’m not worried about you running off. After all, you didn’t even try to avoid the War Party.”

“You’re not wrong, but you don’t have to say it.” 

His grin widens, and he opens the cell door again, motioning for you to follow him.

You follow him through the winding halls, and you’re grateful that he seems to be doing his best to avoid large groups of people. You already get treated like an exhibit at the museum, and your temper is slightly more foul than it should be, given your situation.

“Here we are,” Jango comes to a stop in a massive reef that his family has been cultivating for generations. It’s a rather well known reef, even people in your people's territory have heard of it.

You swim a little bit away from Jango and stretch out properly.

Once you’ve managed to work the kinks out of your back and tail, you settle onto the soft sand and flip your tail so you’re able to look at the underside. You’ve been carefully monitoring a sore that appeared several days ago, though it doesn’t seem to be healing. 

“...you’re hurt.” Jango swims up behind you, his gaze lingering on the sore, “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t think anyone would care,” You reply honestly. 

Jango frowns, though you have the feeling that he’s more upset at the situation than you, and he digs through one of his pouches to hand you a small pouch. “Here, this is kolto. It should help heal it.”

You stare at him for a long moment, and then slowly take the pack from his hand, “...thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Jango settles onto the sand next to you and watches you tend to your own injury with ease, “You’ve done this before.”

It’s not a question, so far as you can tell, but it also seems like he’s making a peace offering, so you continue the conversation. “I have a pair of older twin brothers,” You reply, “And we fought a lot.”

“About what?”

“Oh, silly little things. You know what kids are like. My brothers would call me a name, and I’d call them a name, and it’d just keep escalating until it became physical.”

Jango laughs, “Sounds like me and my friends growing up.”

You shrug, “Kids are kids all over. And mom and dad refused to patch us up after the first time, unless a bone was broken, so we had to learn to take care of ourselves.”

“That sounds…mean of them.”

You laugh softly, “Not really. They’re big proponents of us suffering the consequences of our own actions. I think we turned out alright.”

“I honestly don’t know much about your people,” Jango admits, “Only what they teach us in school.”

“They probably tell you about the battles only then.” You finish treating your tail and start drawing little circles in the sand, “It’s dumb, this whole war.”

“Aren’t you a soldier?” Jango asks with an amused smile.

“I was conscripted, just like every other one of my people.”

Jango’s smile fades, “What do you mean?”

You sigh, “The population numbers for the Cecaelia people aren't very high. To bolster their forces, they turned to the Chordates. We have a much higher population number.”

“But you aren’t volunteers?” Jango asks.

“No. Mandatory conscription for all Chordates who are healthy enough.” You shrug, “We’re big, strong, and intimidating. It’s no wonder that the Cecaelia would want us. Not to mention, we’re not exactly welcome in Atlantis-”

Jango frowns, but he doesn’t argue against it.

You both know that you’re right.

“I’ll change that, when I’m King.”

You laugh, “No. You won’t.”

He looks offended, “You don’t think I will?”

“I don’t.”

“...I suppose you have cause to believe that.” He says with a sigh, “It’s not fair how your people are treated though.”

“You get used to it.”

Jango opens his mouth to say something else, but stops when his father’s second approaches. “Montross.”

“Prince Jango, there’s been a development. There is to be a POW exchange. The eel girl for one of our generals.” Montross turns his steely gaze onto you, and you meet it, unafraid. “Follow me, girl.”

“Alright,” Lazily, almost unconcerned, you lift from the ground and swim over to him. A small smirk crosses your face when he tightens his grip on his spear.

He might have larger muscles, but you tower over him, and you know that you’re stronger than he is. 

He’s aware of it too.

You don’t look back at Jango as you follow him out of the reef. There’s no point, odds are, you’re never going to see him again. You’re just eager to get into the darker lands of your people.

You also hope that they’re not trading anyone important for you.

It’s been six months since you were a prisoner of war and, you suppose, your imprisonment did come with something of a silver lining. You were immediately relieved from duty, and allowed to return to your family’s farm.

To return to your parents and your brothers. 

The fact that you had lost so much weight, and that your tail had been injured, meant that you were a good prop to parade in front of the masses, to show how monstrous the delicate and pretty Tritones and Haliae are. 

The Queen even had a speech written for you, wherein the details of your imprisonment were greatly embellished. You had to give a couple of interviews, one from the hospital where you were being treated for malnourishment, and then you were sent home with a very nice severance package, as well as an agreement that you wouldn’t tell anyone the truth.

Not that you ever would.

The severance package was very helpful to your family, and it’s not like you have many friends who aren’t related to you. And they already know the truth.

The Chordates are no strangers to lying to the people in charge, after all.

Honestly, you’re just glad to be home. To be able to trade in your battle trident for the much more familiar hunting spears, and to trade in the heavy metal armor for the lighter cloth that allow you to move, unseen, even through shallower water.

Your oldest brother flings his arm over your shoulder, early one morning as you finish putting food out for your family's herd of comb jellies. “Are you joining the twins when they go hunting?” He asks as he hoists an empty feed bag over his shoulder.

“That hadn’t been my intention,” You reply as you open a new feed bag and pour it on the sand, “You know what they’re like when someone invites themselves along on their hunting trips.”

“They haven’t asked, because they’re terrified that you’re going to vanish again.”

“Terrified? Van and Len?” You ask, skeptically, “I highly doubt that.”

He laughs, “You don’t believe me? Go and ask them yourself.”

“Fine, but only if you take over the rest of my chores.”

“Deal.” He pushes you towards the shed where the twins keep their hunting gear, and then turns, whistling, to tend to the animals. 

You swim over to the shed and peek in the open door. The twins, long and broad, are bent over their table, and they look delighted when they see you.

“You will join us, yes?” Van asks.

“We put the finishing touches on your spear.” Len adds as he presses your spear, which had shattered before you were conscripted, into your hands. It’s only the blade, with some of the handle left, making it more of a dagger than anything else.

“You really want me to come with you?”

“Of course we do.” Len beams at you as he tosses you your cloak, “As soon as you’re ready, we’re heading to the hunting grounds.”

You squint at him suspiciously, but tie your cloak around your neck and strap your spear to your hip, “Well, I’m ready-”

Quickly, very quickly, the twins usher you away from the shed and to the kelp forest that leads to the hunting grounds. Knowing them, they have their minds set on catching the largest of the deep sea fish, and bringing it home for mother to prepare.

It’s roughly three hours later, when the three of you stumble on something that you absolutely shouldn’t.

“Is that a Tritones War Party?” Van asks his twin as the three of you hide in the shadows of an outcropping. 

“It is, but…look.” You gesture to something that caught your eye, “Those are holy men and women. Look at their clothing.”

The twins glance at you, and then peer back at the War Party. Len scoffs, “She’s right. Look at the weapons. Why are the Tritones holy men attacking a Tritones war party?”

“Infighting?” Van asks, “Would only be good for us.”

“What d’ya think?” Len asks you.

You tilt your head, “The Tritones over there. That’s Montross, he’s King Jaster’s right hand. It looks like the Holy Men are answering to him.”

“Would make sense, I suppose. Who are they attacking, though?”

You move a little ways out of the shadow, to get a better look, and you exhale sharply. “The Tritones in the middle there, the one with the blue tail-”

“Yeah?”

“That’s the crowned prince of Atlantis.” You say flatly.

The twins are completely silent for a moment, their gazes locked on what they were seeing, “You know, I have heard a rumor that King Jaster was murdered-” Len muses.

“So killing the new king is, what, a coup? Supported by the holy men?” Van asks.

“Perhaps.” Len agrees, “Not our problem either way.”

You’re quiet for a moment, “I think we should save him.”

Identical eyes turn to look at you in disbelief. “Why?” Van asks, aghast.

You turn your thoughtful gaze away from Jango and to the twins, “I don’t know about you, but I’m rather tired of our cousins being sent off to die in a war.”

“Of course we are,” Len says, “But we can’t chang-” He stops mid-sentence, and then turns a calculating gaze towards the injured king, “We can work with that.”

It takes Van a moment before he understands where his twin’s thought process went, and then his gaze turns calculating as well. “We’ll have to save him first,” He notes.

“Well,” You murmur thoughtfully, “They are trespassing on our hunting grounds.” Twin pairs of eyes turn to you, and unholy glee crosses their faces. You’d feel guilty, if you weren’t sure that you had the exact same look on your face. 

“You collect the king,” Len orders you, “We’re going to have some fun.” The twins vanish into the dark, disappearing with such skill that even you have a hard time tracking them through the kelp.

You wait until you hear the first scream, and then you move, easing through the kelp cautiously, until you reach where Jango is laying. “You seem to be having a hard time,” You say lightly as you cut his bindings and then pull him into the kelp. 

“You…what?” Jango blinks at the back of your head as you easily propel him through the kelp. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing. This is my family’s land.” You reply, “My brothers are dealing with the people who are hunting you.”

“Oh.”

You keep pulling him until you’re safely outside the kelp forest, and back on the farm, “Here, you’ll be safe here.”

Jango looks around, and then turns his gaze back to you, “Why are you helping me?” He asks quietly.

“Well,” You pause, “It’s not wholly to be a good person,” You admit.

“I didn’t think it was,” Jango replies wryly, “So why did you help me.”

“Well, you’re a king without a kingdom, based on what I just saw. And my people are so tired of being sent to war to die for people who see us as little more than canon fodder.”

“So…you help me and I help you?”

“Pretty much.”

“I suppose that’s not a bad deal,” he murmurs, “Who do I have to talk to?”

You smile at him, “My grandfather.”

“Can you take me to him?” Jango asks.

“That is the plan, yes.” You reply cheerfully as you turn to lead him deeper into the village. 

You already have over a dozen plans and backup plans forming in your mind. And you know that your brothers and your extended family will also have plans forming as they realize exactly what opportunity they have in front of them.

You’d almost pity Jango, if you didn’t know that this was going to work out in his best interest. And yours.

A sly little smile crosses your face.

It’s time to change the game that your people have been playing for generations. This time it’ll be more in your favor.

[eleanor-on-the-internet]

writing some Manberg/Las Nevadas era Tubbo hcs for @best-vice-evr/@las-nevadas-business because I'm bored

warning; discussions of various types of abuse, alcohol, trauma, subconscious victim blaming (very specific), unhealthy behaviors, and overall a not very healthy situation.

I'll add more if I missed anything, but I think that covers most of it.

1. He sits out in the hallways most nights, waiting for the noise to stop. It's more to confirm that Quackity ended up asleep and resting.

2. Tubbo has a habit of taking on more than he can handle, to try and lighten things for Quackity. It usually works, so he never really stopped.

3. on the nights that Tubbo can't sleep at all, which are a majority of them, he ends up trying to fix up the messes Schlatt leaves behind. It always ends before dawn though, not wanting to risk waking the older ram up.

4. Tubbo knows a lot of medical information to better suit what injuries Quackity has, to ensure that the avian is receiving the proper treatment.

5. The only gift Tubbo received from Schlatt in the Manberg era of things was a locket with a picture of Tommy in his L’Manburg uniform in it. He still wears it around most days.

6. on the nights Tubbo went to visit pogtopia, he would only leave if Quackity came with him. It was more of a safety thing.

7. In the Las Nevadas era of things, Tubbo genuinely believes his experience in the Manberg era wasn't scarring in comparison to what Quackity’s experiences were like.

8. Tubbo likes using the ‘:]’ and ‘:[’ and all its variants like Quackity, but he also uses the emoticons —(⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)— like Schlatt.

9. Tubbo has more of Quackity's genetics and generally takes after Big Q, with the exception of a few things from Schlatt. (Like his Ram traits, and the way he acts when he's overly stressed out.)

10. Tubbo genuinely didn't know what a healthy, stable marriage was meant to look like until he met Ranboo. And as a bonus; he was terrible at hiding that he liked them. He was also awful at hiding that he liked Tommy.

11. Tubbo's a light sleeper, he always has been and always will be. It's just how he is.

12. Tubbo very frequently makes sure that Quackity is intaking a healthy portion of food every day, always setting aside a bit of his own meal to give to Quackity. It eventually ended up in him having disordered eating habits. (He'd do it all over again, because it meant that Quackity actually took care of himself. And that was all he wanted.)

13. Tubbo's known about Quackity's cannibalistic habits since a few nights before the funeral for Schlatt was held. To keep the peace, he never said anything about it — but he's known.

14. Tubbo regularly visits Schlatt's grave, bringing him dried out flowers and small trinkets. He hates what their life was like with Schlatt in Manburg, but a small part of Tubbo misses him. It hurts a bit more every time, but Glatt is making things better.

15. Tubbo is mostly sober, occasionally taking a few sips of something alcoholic. He’s almost always sober any other time though.

16. Tubbo's a bit of a collector, taking trinkets and anything he deems ‘pretty.’ Most trinkets are in his bedroom, but a few are in his workshop too.

17. Speaking of his workshop, Tubbo spends a lot of time in there — mostly because of his projects, but as mentioned in headcanon two, it's also a habit to try and take on more than he can handle.

18. The official cover of the song ‘fries’ from the show Adventure Time is the way Tubbo invisions his relationship with Schlatt. Something more soft and bittersweet, rather than the mistreatment and hurt it actually was.

19. THE ONLY HC I'M WRITING FOR POST–RANBOO’S DEATH: Tubbo planted an entire garden of pretty flowers (mostly alliums and white flowers) after the passing of his beloved partner, and takes Michael to visit the garden every night before bed.

20. Tubbo tended to stay away from Schlatt unless the older was entirely sober, mostly because he wanted Schlatt's attention and he wanted to be positive that it was REAL. Like, Tubbo understood that the loving attention wasn't ever as genuine as it was when Schlatt was entirely and fully sober.

21. Speaking of — Tubbo slowly started to become more and more comfortable around Glatt, until eventually they had a pretty wholesome relationship. Especially since Glatt has shown that he can, and will, act better than Schlatt ever could.

22. whenever Tubbo gets really silly, he acts like a little kid with a ton of stimming (usually flailing his hands, stamping his feet onto the floor like hooves, and doing silly little spins)

23. Tubbo has been taking care of others more than himself since the very first month Schlatt was drunk almost daily. He never really learned to put himself first — he still has a ton of issues with it.

24. Tubbo was in denial of being trans for awhile, not wanting to accept the fact that he was just a bit different. After a long talk with Quackity though, he calmed down, and started to accept it. (My silly boy :[..)

25. Anytime an adult is drunk, mostly Quackity, Wilbur, or Glatt, Tubbo tends to avoid them. Alcohol still makes him uncomfortable for the most part.

26. Tubbo feels most comfortable around Quackity, and always has for the majority of it. Although, he's definitely working his way to being more comfy around Glatt— and he's come to view Wilbur as an honorary parent. He still favours Quackity though.

27. As said in headcanon eleven, Tubbo is a very light sleeper. Anything, even the softest of noises, could wake him up, since he's so familiar with having to be ready for ANYTHING as soon as he wakes up. It's almost impossible for Tubbo to sleep soundly, unless he's asleep in Quackity's nest.

28. Tubbo is very emotionally stunted. He doesn't really take the time to feel his own emotions, but he tries to hold the space in his heart for the people he cares about. He holds as much space in his heart as he can for the people he cares about, but he doesn't really leave any space for himself.

29. Tubbo very frequently forgets to take care of himself, and when he does, it's never for as long as he subconsciously craves. As a bonus, he frequently forgets to take breaks when he's working — since he's never really had the chance to.

30. As said in headcanon eighteen, there are two songs I associate with Manburg hornsduo. The official cover of the song ‘fries’ from the show Adventure Time, but also Vampire Empire (the demo & the full version) by Big Thief.

AS OF NOW THIS IS CLOSED!!! MOSTLY BC I DON'T HAVE ANY MOTIVATION >_<

If I do end up getting more ideas, this will be updated :)

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

The fire pillar from demon slayer meeting Exsotica as she heading to a lord house to entertain them but the run to a carrange probably and they both happen to meet

Meeting someone other worldly and kind would be something

Exotica | Meeting the Flame Hashira

Well first and foremost this would never happen cannon storyline

By the time you show up in this universe it's almost a year or two before Kyojuro is fated to die

But with the tidbit dropped in the Art headcannon it’d seem that Kagaya would eventually summon you to the estate

But that couldn’t be the case because you never can’t leave the Yukaku District

Daki and Gyutarou have been ordered to hold you there 

And of course, the Red light district suddenly becoming more famous for your existence would sooner send the art of you than sending you on your own

They’d risk losing you to bandits, obsessed fans, demons

It would just be too much for the Red District to lose their favorite cash cow

Not to mention if Kyojuro ever stepped foot near any of the houses

There’s no way that both sides would remain clueless

Kyojuro’s too adept for that Daki and Gyutarou would never let this fly on account of That Man’s orders 

The conditions for this meet would rely on the luck Exotica does not have, and it can’t be too far from the Yukaku District:

“HELLO THERE FAIR MAIDEN!”

You were by the river taking a rest from your travels and from the carriage that housed Warabihime. You didn’t mind spending extended hours in Daki’s disguise, in fact, you preferred it. Her clinginess was kept to a minimum and she’s in a much better mood; usually too distracted by you to badger her own staff. But you were able to excuse yourself heading into the sunlight to relieve yourself as well as get a look at the majestic scenery you could only read about in manga/only fawn over in anime. Either way, you sent a smile and greeted the demon slayer. 

You recognized him immediately—who wouldn’t, but you refrained from expressing any sorrow. Instead offering to give him food. You had plenty in abundance having done the Edo equivalent of a celebrities tour. And you happily sat with the Hashira as he munched on his provided meal.

“YUM! YUM! DELICIOUS!”

You let yourself giggle, drawing the fiery eyes of the Hashira as he tilted his head into confusion. 

“I don’t mean to sound like I’m making fun of you. I’m just curious as to why your so vocal while eating?”

The hashira finished his bite giving you his glowing smile. 

“I BELIEVE IT’S BEST TO VOICE EVERYTHING YOUR HEART! ESPECIALLY WHEN THAT CHANCE MIGHT BE TAKEN FROM YOU!”

“Wow, it sounds as though…your speaking from experience.”

He gave a hearty laugh before continuing to eat befor cleating his mouth once again. 

“ON THAT NOTE, I’D LIKE TO SAY YOU’RE ABSOULUTELY BEWITCHING! MARRY ME!” 

“Haha Rengoku-san, you’re very funny but I don’t think I can.”

“HAHA PERSISTENCE IS A VIRTUE TOO MANY LOSE HEART THAT WAY! MARRY ME!” 

He would repeat the same declaration all throughout your break before one of the young maidens called you on behalf of the oiran. When the time came you bowed to him, encouraging the hashira on his way. Before you depart he grabs your hand, and with a grim theme to his expression he gave you a promise.

“I WASN’T JESTING WHEN I PROPOSED THIS TO YOU. ONCE MY MISSION IS COMPLETE I WILL FIND YOU AND MARRY YOU. SAFE TRAVELS MY FLAME.”

Releasing you to begin his jovial trek to whatever mission he was on. Standing still in genuine stupor you were broken out by Warabihime’s calls. Returning to the carriage you urged the demon’s worried cries as well as your own. 

‘What was that and why did it feel so…true?’

[realclemhours]

Hey so I finished Dungeon Meishi (manga included) and I wanna have a 3 a.m ramble about some of my thoughts about the ending

MANGA SPOILERS FOR THE ENDING BELOW THE CUT‼️

Okay so the ending honestly left me a tad disappointed. Don’t get me wrong there was still a ton of shit I loved and I am willing to hear people out who love this ending and get it more than I do, but first let me get into the things I do like.

The winged lion was such a fantastic final villain. The way it sweet talked genuinely made it sound so supportive that I kept flip-flopping on whether or not he was telling the truth despite FULLY knowing at this point that it was evil.

Laios turning into the beast he had designed since childhood, making one last change so he could eat desires, and using that to consume the wing lion was such an amazing play.

Everyone showing up after Laios ran away, then finding him, and Shuro hugging and showing pride in him was just so oughhhhh made me tear up a bit.

I absolutely LOVED the Itzusumi chapter where she asked all the main characters what they were going to do after the main story and finally came to terms with doing things she didn’t want to do.

I really love that Mithrun and Thistle got closure despite being antagonists and previous dungeon lords. It shows that they were just humans who were corrupted by the dungeon and deserve to recover just like our main protags and that’s really sweet :))

Finally, I’m just happy that the orcs actually get to live on the surface now. They deserve that

Anyways those are all the major things I liked/loved, there’s some other things obviously, but let me get to my issues

Okay first of all but it feels like in the last like 20 chapters outside of Laios and Marcielle the main cast doesn’t really do much. Like yeah, they’re there and they do talk, but the only time they ever really do things is like as a group? They’re either all acting a parasite or cooking a meal or trying to catch up the winged dragon in Laios’s body or they are just doing nothing while Marcielle or Laios is doing the protag stuff.

It’s kinda disappointing to me to be honest. They’ve build such bonds and built such likeable characters only to go “uhhh actually only Laios can do anything in the final fight against the demon and the others just stand and watch confused”. Which again, while Laios’s plan was really cool I just wish the others in the main cast got to contribute to the final battle. Have them all have their little time to shine you know?

I also personally don’t like that Laios became king and the curse. I just personally kinda prefer when protags give up that sort of thing to live a simplistic life. Honestly kinda wish Kabru became king in Laios’s place, but then again if Laios didn’t step up as king Marcielle would be in jail, the orcs would still be exiled, and the current leaders of the island would still be in charge and continue to be greedy and incompetent.

So uhhhhh yeah maybe best he became king even if I’m not fond of it-

But then we have the curse, which oooooo boy. I get that like Laios has to sacrifice something great to defeat a literal demon, but losing the ability to be around monsters entirely?? I can’t fully explain why but I just really dislike it. It makes me feel just kinda sad. But not sad like it’s a bittersweet sacrifice (Hiccup losing his leg in How to Train Your Dragon comes to mind as a bittersweet sacrifice I love), but just unsatisfying? Like yeah, the protagonist saved the world and his sister is now safe but now is life is kinda miserable since he has to deal with people all the time and can never see monsters again.Hurray 🎉

Don’t get me wrong I feel like Laios should absolutely lose something from fighting the demon. Not sure what exactly (maybe his desires for food or monsters or a limb), but what they ended up going with was just kinda disappointing to me.

Anyways those are just my takeaways from the ending. Let me know if I’m missing anything, I would love to discuss and maybe get my mind changed.

Overall, did the ending ruin Dunmeshi for me? Oh absolutely not. This was such a fantastic story and world that enthralled me till the end (even if it did lose me a bit at the end). Would still genuinely give it a 10/10 despite my complaints. I liked it that much.

If you asked me to summarize how the ending made me feel in relation to the rest of the series, well I would best compare it to a meal. Most of the meal is no joke 5 star best stuff I have ever eaten in my life. Then I get to my last item… some dessert. The dessert tastes amazing- but the texture is a bit odd and it bugs me to the point where I notice and feel how weird it was. Would I still hate the rest of the meal for the one slightly weird dessert? Absolutely not! I would still recommend the meal to everyone I know even with the off dessert at the end because everything else was just that fantastic.

Anyways yeah maybe the real Dunmeshi was the friends we made along away and then ate as we faced the fear of mortality and ancient gods beyond our comprehension <3

[endless-summer-soldier]

cruel to be kind - chapter five

pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (90s college AU)

summary: it started with a dare. Bucky restlessly pursues Y/N, seeking just one date. as he chases her, he realizes she's different from she challenges him, so he starts to catch feelings. but it all falls apart when she learns about his initial motivations. based on 10 things I hate about you!

warnings: alcohol use, cursing

word count: 1.8k

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He started with giving her space. He knew her well enough to know that’s what she needed. And then he started with small things. He left coffee on her doorstep, with little notes on the paper cups. Some days he would bring her a bagel to accompany her coffee. She hadn’t reached out to him, but every time he came by, the food he left wasn’t there so he only hoped she was collecting his gifts. 

Finally, he gained the courage to text her: Can we talk?

Her response was quick, and final: No.

He let out a deep breath. He would throw in the towel today, but planned to try again tomorrow.

Carol placed the brown paper bag and coffee cup on the table. 

“Looks like we have a breakfast sandwich this morning,” she commented, peeking into the brown paper bag. 

“I don’t want it,” Y/N replied.

“Yes you do. It’s a perfectly good bacon, egg, and cheese. As soon as I leave, you’ll eat it. Might as well just eat it now.”

Y/N sighed, but approached the breakfast Bucky had left for her, taking a long sip of the coffee.

“Fuck. He always brings me the best coffee.”

“Will you just forgive him already? I’m tired of tripping over your meals every time I leave the apartment.”

“Oh, well I’m so sorry to inconvenience you,” she replied, dripping with sarcasm.

“What happened between you two? It seemed like things were going really well.”

“He’s an asshole. That’s what happened.”

“Did you let him explain or did you just freeze him out?”

Y/N looked at her with contempt, giving her an answer.

“Y/N…” Carol urged.

“He fucking hurt me. For once I felt like I could open up to someone and be myself, and it was all a lie. I don’t know how to forgive him for that. This is exactly why I don’t let people in. They always let you down.”

Carol took in her roommate and saw the pain behind her eyes. She wrapped her arms around Y/N and gently ran a hand down her back in comfort.

“I’m sorry that he hurt you. Just think about letting him explain before you shun him from your life. The last thing I would want is for you to regret this decision years from now. If he is someone you can genuinely see yourself with, the least you can do is give him a chance. Boys are stupid, they make mistakes.”

Y/N let out a deep sigh, “I’ll think about it.”

Bucky had just dropped off breakfast for Y/N when he heard the front door open. He ducked around the corner and hid, hoping it was Y/N leaving for class and he could talk to her and give an explanation. He peeked around the corner and was disappointed to see it was her roommate. She picked up the coffee cup and breakfast sandwich and brought it inside. 

Bucky then thought maybe if he could get through to the roommate, then she would talk to Y/N. He approached the door again and right before he was about to knock, he heard voices coming from the other side of the door.

“Will you just forgive him already? I’m tired of tripping over your meals every time I leave the apartment.” 

“Oh, well I’m so sorry to inconvenience you.” He recognized Y/N’s signature sarcasm immediately.

“What happened between you two? It seemed like things were going really well.”

“He’s an asshole. That’s what happened.” Her words stung, but he had to admit to himself that they were true. 

“Did you let him explain or did you just freeze him out?” 

It was silent for a few moments and Bucky almost considered leaving when Y/N’s roommate spoke again.

“Y/N…”

“He fucking hurt me. For once I felt like I could open up to someone and be myself, and it was all a lie. I don’t know how to forgive him for that. This is exactly why I don’t let people in. They always let you down.”

Bucky’s already weak heart broke even further. Listening to her hurting was even worse than being ignored. He hated himself for doing this to her and he wasn’t even sure he deserved her back at this point. He had to reconsider his position. Maybe it’d be for the best if he just let her go…

Y/N opened the door in the morning and immediately felt her stomach drop when she spotted her empty doorstep. The coffee had stopped showing up a few days ago, yet every morning she peeked out to check if there was something there for her. At first she thought Carol had been taking everything, but when she asked, Carol denied the accusation and immediately became suspicious. It didn’t take long for her roommate to realize she actually cared for the small gifts being left for her.

The worst part was, Y/N hated the idea that he had given up. He messed up, but she didn’t want to lose him. So now she was stuck. She continued on with classes, feeling distracted and disinterested in the course work. She kept peering out the windows, wondering what he was doing and how he was feeling.

When her final class of the week was done, Y/N was fully ready to be curled up in her bed, binge watching Netflix and eating ice cream straight from the container. As she approached her door, she noticed her next door neighbor pulling out his keys to head into his apartment.

“Hey! You…” she called, realizing she didn’t know her neighbor’s name.

“Can I help you?” he asked with a confused look.

“Sorry, what’s your name?” she asked.

“Sam…”

“Sam, you’re friends with Bucky, right?”

“...Yes,” he replied cautiously.

“Have you…seen him lately?”

“Why do you care?”

She sighed, wondering how she was going to pull this off, “Can I buy you a drink? I just want to pick your brain.”

He shrugged and put his keys in his pocket, “I won’t turn down a free beer.”

Once they reached the bar, Y/N ordered them a pitcher of Miller Lite and they sat at a high top. She had never spoken with Sam, aside from when she yelled at him through the wall. 

“So, I need to know more about this dare.”

Sam took a big swig of beer and went into it, “The whole thing was Zemo’s idea. You yelled at us to keep it down and Bucky defended you. Then Zemo dared him to ask you out and Bucky wasn’t on board. I think he eventually gave in just to get him to shut up. I didn’t think he’d go through with it, we certainly weren’t checking in with him. But we were seeing him less and less. He mentioned to us that he was taking you to a party and then he wasn’t coming over as much. I assumed things were going well, and I think Zemo couldn’t let him have the happy ending, which is why he made a comment.”

She pondered her next question, “Was this all just a big joke for him?”

“Not at all. Bucky doesn’t do things for a laugh. He only goes for things he’s serious about. And you were all he could talk about for weeks. It was actually really annoying.”

“Have you seen him recently?”

Sam shook his head, “He’s been spending all his free time trying to win you over.”

She sighed, “Can you make plans with him? See what he’s thinking?”

Sam eyed her, “What do you mean?”

“I just don’t know if he’s still interested.”

“Oh he’s interested. He doesn’t give up that easily.”

She put her head in her hands, “I just don’t know what to do.”

Sam saw her internal struggle and knew he could be of assistance, “Let me help you.”

Y/N turned the cassette in her hands over and over again, studying her handwritten tracklist. Was she really doing this? It was so impossibly cheesy that she couldn’t quite believe she was putting herself out there like this.

When Sam suggested she do something personal for Bucky, to show him she was still interested, she had no idea how to do that. Carol was the one who suggested a mixtape, and it was kind of perfect aside from being completely cliche. Making mixtapes was a habit of hers, but she had never made one for someone else. It took time to perfectly cultivate the contents and Y/N knew if she didn’t act quickly, she’d risk losing Bucky completely.

Y/N knocked on her neighbors door and was immediately face to face with Sam, her messenger. He held up his end of the deal and was meeting Bucky at their regular bar. She didn’t say anything as he opened the door, but merely held out the cassette tape in its clear plastic case.

Sam smiled approvingly, “Here I was expecting a love note, but this is so much better.”

She rolled her eyes, “Just get it to him in a non obvious way. I want it to take him by surprise.”

“And how would you like me to do that?”

“I don’t know, just slide it into the pocket of his leather jacket or something.”

Sam gave her a look and said, “I make no promises, but I’ll do my best.”

“Sorry to drag you into all this, but I do appreciate your help,” she said earnestly.

“It’s all for Buck. He’s helped me out of more jams that you could imagine.”

She nodded and headed back to her apartment door, “Just let me know when you complete the drop.”

“Yes ma’am,” he said.

Bucky said his goodbye to Sam and closed out his tab at the bar. He tried to shake Y/N from his mind and meeting Sam for a few beers seemed like a good way to do that, but after his third beer he realized that he wasn’t in the mood to be around drunken frat boys.

He walked out of the bar and was met with a chill in the air that hadn’t been there before. He pulled on his black leather jacket. He reached into his pocket in search of a cigarette, thinking that a smoke might help warm him up on his walk home. As he pulled out the pack, he realized it wasn’t a pack at all. It was a plastic case containing a cassette tape. He stopped in his tracks to study the tape. It certainly wasn’t in his pocket when he left for the bar. As he flipped the tape over, he noticed the handwritten tracklist tucked into the case. The handwriting was a unique combination of print and cursive and every lowercase “I” was missing its tittle. As he read through the songs, a small smile crept up his face. He didn’t know all of the tracks, but the few he did recognize were songs he loved. 

Bucky tucked the tape back into his pocket and took off at a run to his car. This mixtape was a message from Y/N, and he had to listen to it as soon as possible.