protective Peeta headcanons ?
okay so although i like this trope i don’t really have many headcanons about it, so if anyone would like to add on their own please feel free!
so after the war, i don’t think peeta would ever really need to be ‘protective’ over her in the wattpad-mafia-romance-‘touch her and i kill you’ kind of way. it goes without saying that he absolutely would kill and die for her, but they lead a quiet life - and she can hold her own, in any case. he is protective of her peace.
years spent together means that he knows all the things that would be a trigger for her, and of course he would try his hardest to shield her from them. if his arms can make her feel safe in a literal death match, just think how much comfort she can draw from him in day to day life. i think a big part of katniss’ healing would be realising that she can relinquish control a little bit, she no longer has to take on the sole burden of keeping her family alive like she had to do at such a young age. letting peeta take care of her would feel foreign at first, but in the long run it would be so beneficial for her not to have to shoulder everything, to be told that he’ll take care of something and she doesn’t need to worry - not about money or food or safety.
anyone prying into their life would be a big no for both of them, especially katniss who is inherently a private person. if a journalist or something like that came sniffing around, i don’t think peeta would hesitate to tell them where to go. he may be polite at first, but if he felt like someone was infringing on katniss’ space too often and making her uncomfortable he would react accordingly.
crowded spaces might be a little bit of an issue for her, reminding her of that day in the city circle, and so even at the market on busy days he’s happy to place a gentle hand on her shoulder to remind her that he’s there. getting to a quiet corner or somewhere no one is likely to see them so he can tip her chin up and look her in the eyes, wordless communication for her to give him a little smile so he can know she’s okay. if not, he’ll get her out of there as soon as he can.
similarly, in social situations he would probably always be prepared to step in for katniss. she’s quite happy to take the back seat in conversations and just listen, and peeta being there to guide it definitely helps. she’s always sure to thank him later, leaning her head against his shoulder as they leave wherever they were.
katniss doesn’t need someone to strong-arm and muscle people around her. i think, for the most part, that the vast majority of the citizenry would respectfully leave her be (especially in district 12). she needs someone who will gently pry her book from her hands and urge her to sleep because he noticed her eyes getting tired, someone to remind her to layer up before going out in the winter months, someone to apply lotion to her scars and hold her at night to keep the nightmares away. someone who can make life gentle.
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for the ship hc ask!!
thominho (surprising ik)
5, who’s usually the big spoon and the small spoon in the relationship?
8, who’s the early bird and who likes to sleep in longer?
21, how do they cheer each other up during sad times?
hello there!! /ᐠ≽•ヮ•≼マ Thank you for the obligatory Thominho ask, hehe ✧˚₊‧
(fair warning: lots o' ramblin')
5 – big spoon Thomas my fucking belovedd. I think Thomas naturally adopts the protector role and Minho had it shoved onto him for too long, so the idea of Thomas spooning Minho in Paradise is simply mouthwatering
8 – early bird's gotta be Minho, courtesy of being a Runner. He also likes watching the sun rise over the sea, the way the water glistens gold, and how Paradise hums to life as the Immunes gradually wake up. (Also Thomas will smack Minho's face like the snooze button on an alarm clock whenever he tries to wake him up)
21 – Thomas really likes cuddling/physical intimacy so, when he's sad, Minho gives him little kisses and hugs throughout the day. Probably settles down with him on the couch, cuddled under a blanket (that he put in the dryer for 10 minutes to warm up), eating ice cream and watching a shitty rom-com movie.
21 – Minho likes spending time with Thomas and just being reminded (not necessarily directly) that Thomas loves him. So when he's down, Thomas drags him out to the coast for a walk. They hold hands and talk about anything and everything and nothing at all, meaningless conversations full of love. They watch the sun set, and they watch the water glisten gold.
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"D'you think she cares?" His voice came across as a little worse for wear than it oughta. Death usually restored the body to peak order aside from a few scars, but here Martyn's throat was, scratchy and harder to parse than he woulda liked.
"What?" Came the reply. Scott shook his hand out, dirt particulates separating from his fingers as he did.
"Cleo, I mean. Obviously." Martyn laughed, leaning back against Scott's pretty little house, hand waving in a mockery of one of Scott's common gestures.
"Why would I know what Cleo thinks of you? We aren't teammates this go around." Scott turns back to his work, but it's still obvious how the previous victor felt about this game by how his voice catches at 'go around'.
Martyn winces, but he shakes it off within milliseconds. "You two are always allies! There hasn't been a go when you two haven't been conspiring. I'm asking because--"
"Martyn." Scott's voice was sharper than he meant, and it softens as he continues. "For one, I won't ask how you know more about mine and Cleo's relationship than either of us have told you. You and Grian get so clammy about that nonsense. For two, she hasn't mentioned you."
Martyn doesn't flinch, but Scott can tell that hurt him. Scott lived with him for a while, he knows. Martyn thinks himself infinitely cool and collected, but he isn't. He never has been and Scott's pretty sure he never will be. The blonde coughs. "Cool."
"Cool?" Scott laughs, looking up. Arcing underneath his hair from his right temple under his hair and around his throat is a lightning scar, and it glows slightly at the middle of his throat in a cool cyan. It aches. Martyn knows it aches, especially when Scott laughs. "Martyn, you were soulbound two goes ago. I know she's cool and all, but what's your hangup? Are you this hung up on Ren? Me?"
"What! Scott, you're having a giraffe. I don't get hung up on people."
There is a poignant silence. Martyn shifts uncomfortably. Scott rolls his eyes and returns to his work.
"Scott, I just wanna know how she is. If she ever thinks about me. I don't--I try not to think about it. The past, I mean. But it just... I may die but the soul lives on. Bones are buried but the soul is still here and it still feels that little string, y'know? We had the same soul, for a while. The same beating heart." Martyn finally moves from his ramrod straight stance, squatting beside Scott, a gloved hand extended.
The palm is cold. Ice fucking cold. The diamond shaped mark seems to give his flesh freezerburn as he nears the scar to any other living being. Any that are around, anyway. Martyn is cagey about it--Scott wasn't being mean. He has four of those diamonds across his body, though he supposes he's lucky that they're all... eh, relatively easy to hide. The one on his cheek, the back of his neck, and right over his heart were harder to conceal, though. That, and the massive ragged timepiece seemingly slashed across his back. The scar that never healed. The reminder to keep his ears open. To listen. To betray when it suits him. That one still pulses red, sore and obvious.
Scott doesn't know that a diamond burns for him as Martyn nears him. He doesn't know that it gets a little harder to breathe as the scalding diamond on the back of his neck makes itself very known. Bound, again and again, had he always found himself following after another? Hitching his soul into pieces again and again? Where would a diamond appear this time, for Jimmy? Where else would the cracks spread? Scott flicks his nose.
"You're absolutely doing that thing again where you just stare at me and look pensive. Fine, you want to know so bad what I think they think? Fine, if it'll get you to either go away or help me plant." Scott finally stands up fully and stretches his back out, then his arms high above his head. He reaches over to grasp Martyn's upper arm. "Cleo is a complicated person. They do care. They also don't. You aren't the center of her universe and that is fine. For both of you. Worrying about what they think won't make you less afraid of what comes next. Holding onto us--me, Cleo, the Ahaliance, Ren, that won't give you the peace you're looking for. You and Grian hold on tighter to the past than the rest of us. Let us go, Martyn, and let what joy you can have now happen."
The diamond hurts like hell. Like Martyn has slammed back into a pool of lava and it is eating him alive. It feels like dying when Scott holds his arm. He doesn't react. Scott doesn't know everything. "Alright, alright, I don't need an intervention here, mate! I'm genuinely just trying to see if she's mad at me, and you're talking different breeds and stronger memories. Bah. Maybe you're holding on to Cleo."
"Am I, then?" Scott snorts, and thankfully releases Martyn's arm. The burning subsides, somewhat.
"I think you are, honestly. I look away and suddenly you're gaslighting and gatekeeping and girlbossing! What about my gaslighting?" Martyn holds a hand to his chest as he fakes haughtiness.
"You're a bad liar, Littlewood." Scott kneels back in the dirt. "Now help me plant before you go back to our canary."
Martyn snorts, this time. "Our canary. Yeah, Scott, only me and Grian hold on." He does listen, though, and helps cover wheat seeds with dirt. As his right hand connects with the soil, it aches like a red winter, cold and bloody. He misses Ren. He misses Cleo, and Pearl, and Mumbo and everyone. He feels like there's a world where they could have been happy together, where they played games and laughed around Christmastime. As he looks at Scott, he wonders...
"Do you know what Christmas is?" His voice is more hesitant than he means for it to be.
"No, why?" Scott replies, shoving half a tuber deep into the earth.
"No reason. Just an old story." Then, that was the difference. He and Grian knew there was something beyond. No one else remembers what life extant a Watcher's game is like. He raises his head to watch the darkening horizon. Scott boxes his ear with a smile, and he shrugs. At least they have tonight to pretend like She wasn't watching. Like they were friends planting a field.
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Pearl, who with BigB ends her episodes this season with "always watching". Who, last week, dressed up as a red just to scare people, and was disappointed to find that everyone was already too crazy to mess with. Who, this week, made some very silly decisions early on (violence and stealing from allies) and later lamented that she had no idea what came over her, even though she wasn't even the Boogeyman. Something can be done with this, I think.
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Headcanon: Why do I feel like this sums up Theseus and Newt’s entire relationship / their entire family all the way back through childhood?
Blue screenshot from unposted chapter of fic x
Like…
Age 6: Newt’s dissection of a horklump is so precise his mum sends off his sketches and notes to the Hogwarts library and theseus doesn’t find out until the next spring when he’s scouring the stacks for a diagram for his Care of Magical Creatures final
Age 8: Newt’s mum puts him in Muggle primary school to help him learn social skills but the kids are boring and awful so Newt starts accidentally magicking himself into the woods outside the school for 2 weeks straight and just walks back to the yard for pick-up in the afternoons. Doesn’t tell anyone until the Ministry shows up at their house to ask his parents if they know their son’s been performing complex underage magic
Age 10: Newt gets bitten by a ridiculous number of doxies while investigating an infestation and his parents only find out when he passes out at the dinner table and Theseus only finds out when he comes home for Easter and asks his brother why his arm looks so lumpy and why he has a children’s ward hospital bracelet
Age 13: Leta bullies Newt into trying out for the Hufflepuff house team in September because they’re down players and he’s absurdly fearless when it comes to flying, and then he’s on the team for a full year, but his family only finds out when the Prophet covers the final matches of the Inter-house Cup in May, and Newt immediately quits after the final game (“it was cutting into my forest time!”), much to his brother’s chagrin
Age 14: Newt gets a school-wide award for an herbology essay on the scientific and magical distinctions between plant and animal characteristics in semi-sentient plants like venomous tentacula and devil’s snare and his family literally doesn’t find out until his expulsion hearing (but his mum still puts the award up on the wall anyway)
Age 16: Relatedly - Newt gets rather dramatically expelled but Theseus only finds out two days later when he runs into Newt in the DMLE corridor on his way to his hearing, because poor communication runs in the family and their father forgot to tell Theseus where he went Tuesday night after that barrage of Hogwarts owls showed up at 10PM
I could go on
why is this so funny to me
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