#READ THIS. DO IT. DO IT NOW.

[catiuskaa]

UGLY SOBBING TEARS, MY GUY. CRYING, DYING, AND DEFENESTRATION. ABSOLUTELY SOUL-WREACKING HAVOC FROM WHICH I WANT TO BE ENGULFED BY.

oh how i love fluff and comfort ㅠㅠ

My hero | Bang Chan

Pairing: Bang Chan x female reader

Genre: Married fluff, (a tiny bit of angst)

Word count: 2.400

Requested: yes

Warnings: mention of a stomach bug (very briefly) insecurities (both), self-depricating jokes (both), some marriage difficulties, caring for a child, they're EXTREMELY in love, tooth-rotting fluff

Both you and Chan loved to have your crazy fun, but to a certain limit. A limit you both understood so well, as if it was truly a shared items between your minds. Therefore, after your long awaited wedding ceremony, where tears were shed, dances were danced, cake ended up on the floor and someone's shirt, the bouquet throwing almost knocked someone out, and fortunately no relative started a fight - you both drove peacefully, home. No long flights to Honolulu, no rushing for any 5 star hotel reservation. Just a long, deep sleep.

You awake and instantly chuckle. You barely remember that you basically threw your wedding dress on top of the bedroom door last night instead of finding a hanger. Slept with the door open and all, but you were so exhausted you don't remember even washing your teeth. You turn around gingerly and find your newlywed husband, Chris, to be slightly salivating on the pillow. Nose half shoved inside the fluff, hair every which way and his cute ears poking through, his silver earrings still on. He was a sight to behold, and this sight was truly now yours.

You brush a few strands of hair away from his eyes, and as you accidently touch his ear he shudders. You procrastinate for a good five minutes, in which you gently pet his hair, and then lean to kiss him on the forehead before you get out of bed.

"No, don't leave." He calls out to you, his voice raspy and his accent thick. You give into the temptation and lay back down next to him.

"Good morning, my husband." You say, and it's so cheesy it makes you giggle.

"Good morning, my wife." He says with a toothy grin. You just married him, and you have a lifetime ahead of you to admire him and love him, and yet you're impatiently urging to jump on him and smother him in kisses for how adorable he looks. Cuteness agression and all.

You decide you won't be eating Chris alive one kiss at the time, and instead you lay your head on his outstretched arm and allow him to wrap the other one around your back, bringing you one breath away from his chocolate eyes admiring you sleepily.

"So, what will be our first important decision taken as husband and wife?" Chris asks you, and you furrow your brows. Does he mean something like deciding to paint the room green or getting a cactus?

"Deciding what to eat for breakfast?" He chuckles at your answer.

"The most important meal of the day! Yeah I think that's a very big decision to make. And as your husband, to showcase my deep trust in you, I allow you to have complete power over this first decision." He speaks so eloquently, you slap him on the arm and he begins to giggle.

"You're just too lazy to help me think!"

"What? Me? Neveeeerr."

"And I'm guessing you also want me to go get said breakfast if you're letting me decide what we eat." Chris pretends to gasp.

"How did you know? See, we're perfect for each other! You can read my mind." He makes that usual tutting noise as he winks at you and you go from adoring him to wanting to shove a pillow in his face. But most marriages are like this, you imagine.

"Fine, I'll do it. Under one condition."

"Anything my wife desires."

"You have to answer why you chose me. Like, as your wife. Why me and not anyone else?"

"Why not?" Chris answers with a laugh and you're reaching for the pillow and he doesn't even try to dodge.

"No but really, why did you?" You try your hardest to not show that this is a real question for you. Not just a joke to put your husband in a tough spot for fun, but an actual curiosity that makes you insecure. And Chan hates it when you're insecure.

"I chose you as my wife." You squint at him in a feeble attempt to understand his words.

"Yeah .... you did, since we just got.... married... But why me?" Chan laughs and flails his arms, probably realizing his words didn't come out very coherently.

"No, I chose you as my wife the entire time. It just took me a very long time to realize it.

When I needed an opinion on a song, for some reason I chose you instead of, y'know, the people who produce music with me. When Seungmin caught that stomach bug and I needed to get him to the hospital, I chose to call you to come with us. When I needed to have a serious conversation with someone, I'd call you up even if I'd be surrounded by 15 close friends in physical range of me. I used to choose you even if it was irrational, even if I was a burden to you-"

"You were never a burden to me, Chris."

"I hope I wasn't." He laughs awkwardly, almost as if embarrassed. "But anyways... Yeah. In the beginning I thought I was just being silly, but then I started to notice what I was doing. When my parents asked me if I've met anyone new, I chose you to talk about. Literally yapped for hours - you should have seen their faces! They knew I was in love way before I did. And when I was tasked with writing a love song...I chose you to write about. And then the next morning I chose to start sending you good morning messages every day. Then when I pictured Valentine's day... There was no other option other than spending it with you. So I chose to ask you out before Valentine's so when the holiday comes I could spoil you. And then I just... Continued to choose you. Over and over again." He finishes with a smile, in contrast to you who started crying many sentences ago. You thought you were done crying after yesterday's ceremony, but Chris is a man full of surprises.

"You even chose me over your career a few times..." You say as more tears escape you, a feeling of guilt washing over you. Although the fact that he sacrificed the thing he cares the most about in this world for your sake should prove his dedication, it also still makes you feel guilty to think about.

"And I'd do it again." He leans closer, wiping the tears off of your face, then taking your hand in his to lay tiny kisses on it. "So you see how I just... Chose you? From the get go? It's like I knew I could rely on you, trust you, love you eternally. From the day we met. So it's not... Anything you said or something specific. I just chose you. All of you. To be mine. All mine." He pulls you into a tight embrace and you feel the way your body wraps around his by instinct. Like you were molded to blend together. "You're mine." He kisses the side of your forehead and butterflies wreck your tummy. "My wife."

"But you could have chosen anyone else..." You still mutter unsurely, but Chris shushes you and pats your head.

"But I didn't. And I won't." He reassures you, rocking you left and right in a calming motion. He truly wishes he would be better at showing you and telling you just how much he loves you, how much he wants you in his life. He could never blame you for having insecurities about yourself, but at the same time he feels although he's failing as a lover if he lets those those thoughts invade your mind. He truly wishes his love could seep into your bones.

"So you don't just want me for my spicy chicken recipe?" You try to joke, to ease the atmosphere, bringing Chan out of his thoughts.

"I mean ... The spicy chicken is included in the package, right?" He continued the joke, but underneath that pearly smile he gave you, Chan was set on making you the happiest wife on earth. Whatever it took.

Even if that meant some arguments, some bumps down the road, and making you uncomfortable with affection and attention until you allowed him to love you well. That was a part of marriage no one warned you about, something you had to figure out along the way - that sometimes you have to make each other uncomfortable in order to grow. Sometimes you have to push some limits to become happier.

And so many years into the future, after the birth of you first son, you pushed a limit that wouldn't even seem humanly possible to Chris. You somehow convinced him to go on tour and leave you alone to care for your son. He was two seconds away from quitting his job and becoming a convenience store worker upon hearing just how many months he'd have to away from you and your four year old son, who needed very much to be around his dad at that age. But you convinced him, reassured him everything was going to be okay in his absence.

"Dada's out there spreading happiness into the world." You whispered to your son, who was sleeping in the same bed as you ever since Chris left on tour.

"Like a superhero?"

"Exactly like a superhero, baby. To every single city he goes, he makes people so happy he saves their lives."

"Dada's so cool." Instead of being able to calm him down to get him to sleep, it seems your son gained energy from the conversation instead. He was now flailing his tiny limbs around.

"Do you wanna watch Dada perform?" There is a video of Chris you have saved up on your phone, from a solo stage he had during a concert where he sang a lullaby. It was the most children friendly performance you had, plus it matched the melodicity of the songs Chris used to sing to you at night to soothe your pregnancy pains.

Your son always falls asleep listening to his father's voice, almost through magic.

When his breathing evened out, you thought it was finally time you kick back and relax with an episode of your favorite show while enjoying some not-so-recommended late night chocolate. As you headed into the hallway, you spotted Chan leaning on the wall and had to glue a hand over your mouth to not scream and wake up your son.

"Chris, you scared the shi- .... heck outta me! What are you doing here?"

"We have a few days off in between stops and I couldn't just sit in a hotel for three days while I was dying to see you two."

"So you're telling me you spent 10 hours on flight, to stay here for one day and then fly back to god knows where?"

"Exactly." He says, face full of dimples and his eyes sparkle in the dark shadows of the hallway.

"You're insane." You laugh quitely.

"No, I'm... a superhero...? That saves lives...? You gotta let me know what you've been telling him, or else he might be disappointed in me when he finds out I can't fly."

"You don't need to fly to be a superhero."

"Oh yeah? Then care to tell me what makes me a superhero?" He flirts with you, gently pushing your hips into the wall behind you as he leans over you. You keep an eye on the door to make sure your son doesn't wake up and walk in to see how big of a flirt his father is. He'll have decades to cringe over it later.

"Remember when I used to feel bad for all the nice things you used to do for me? All the help and the gifts?"

"Mhm." The limits Chris used to push and how they bothered you - they resulted in a lot of friction early on in the marriage.

"And you told me that I need to allow you to make me happy. And since then... I chose to. Just how you chose me to be your wife... I chose to let you make me happy. I chose to allow you to be my hero. It's tricky, because heroes need sleep too ..." You softly caress his cheeks, and even under the dim atmosphere of the hallway you can see the dark bags under his eyes. "and they can't always save the day... but I swear to God you make the world a better place. You make my world a better place. You're my hero."

Chris leans in to kiss you in the same way he did when you were young and unmarried. It's a kiss that burns you, a kiss that makes you feel like a woman. A kiss that made you want to be married. A kiss that teaches you to breathe underwater.

"You call me a superhero when you're literally managing a house, a job, a kid, a long distance relationship, a social life and yourself all at once. And somehow nothing is on fire and you're not losing you mind even when your good for nothing husband doesn't call or text for days."

"Don't talk about yourself like that!" You slap him on the chest, but unfortunately he's not in a joking mood.

"You're the superhero between the two of us, honey. If there's one thing I've learnt along the years it's... That the reason why I chose you as my wife.. the one you were asking me about all those years ago? Maybe there was actually a reason. That you were always stronger than me."

"Me? You're joking, right?"

"Not at all. You're the hero, I'm just trying to be the wind behind your wings. I'm sorry for missing your calls and not video-calling more often, and just.. being gone in general. I've missed you." You decided to drop the subject since Chris seemed too emotional to be coherent. You weren't mad at him for anything, and he surely was undermining himself by calling you the strong one.

Unfortunately, it's not like you would accept the title of hero and he wouldn't accept it either.

The one thing you didn't realize is that you were both superheroes. But it's okay, since your son was onto you a long time ago. He'll protect your secret, and hopefully, also grow into a superhero himself.

©amelee23 do not copy, translate or repost

Check out my ko-fi if you want to consider donating!

✂️ ------------------------------

I'm back bby

Please comment and reblog, a feedback a day keeps a writer's dread at bay!

Soft hours open! Send me your fluff fantasies so we can go delulu together!

[stil-lindigo]

lead balloon (the tumblr post that saved me)

if this comic resonated with you, it would mean the world to me if you donated to this palestinian family's escape fund.

--

no creative notes because this isn't that kind of comic.

I know I don’t owe any of you anything but I still felt compelled to write about my long term absence. And I feel far enough away from the dangerous spot I was in to be able to make this comic. I have a therapist now, and she agreed that making this could be a very cathartic gesture, and the start of properly leaving these thoughts behind me. I am still, at seemingly random times, blindsided by fleeting desires to kill myself. They’re always passing urges, but it’s disarming, and uncomfortable. I worry sometimes that my brain’s spent so long thinking only about suicide that it’s forgotten how to think about anything else. Like, now that I've opened that door for myself, I'll never be able to fully shut it again. But I’m trying my best to encourage my mind in other directions. We'll see how that goes.

I am still donating all proceeds from my store to Palestinian causes. So far, I've donated over $15K, not including donations coming from my own pocket or the fundraising streams which jointly raised around $10K. In the time since I made my initial post about where this money would be going, the focus has shifted from aid organisations to directly donating to escape funds.

If you'd like to do the same, you can look at Operation Olive Branch, which hosts hundreds of Palestinian escape funds or donate to Safebow, which has helped facilitate the safe crossing and securing of important medical procedures for over 150 at-risk palestinians since the beginning of the genocide.

[upon-the-snow]

I can’t believe it took me this long to draw her!

[evilmafuyu666]

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

It's just guys night talk! Don't worry about it!

(Read Tiger Tiger and shake this man awake so he can finish that thought!)

[okidraw]

i wanted to show them the stars.

[hinamie]

unconditionally

[eyes-of-nine]

pls assume i'm thinking about this moment 24/7 all week every week

[blueboyluca]

“When I first heard it, from a dog trainer who knew her behavioral science, it was a stunning moment. I remember where I was standing, what block of Brooklyn’s streets. It was like holding a piece of polished obsidian in the hand, feeling its weight and irreducibility. And its fathomless blackness. Punishment is reinforcing to the punisher. Of course. It fit the science, and it also fit the hidden memories stored in a deeply buried, rusty lockbox inside me. The people who walked down the street arbitrarily compressing their dogs’ tracheas, to which the poor beasts could only submit in uncomprehending misery; the parents who slapped their crying toddlers for the crime of being tired or hungry: These were not aberrantly malevolent villains. They were not doing what they did because they thought it was right, or even because it worked very well. They were simply caught in the same feedback loop in which all behavior is made. Their spasms of delivering small torments relieved their frustration and gave the impression of momentum toward a solution. Most potently, it immediately stopped the behavior. No matter that the effect probably won’t last: the reinforcer—the silence or the cessation of the annoyance—was exquisitely timed. Now. Boy does that feel good.”

— Melissa Holbrook Pierson, The Secret History of Kindness (2015)

[obsob]

to be loved is to be held!!! print

[egophiliac]

he did it! 🐍 and it only took...uhhh...well, there probably could've been less punches, but why hold back!

PUNCHES FOR EVERYONE

[imclou]

Man y/n is having one hell of a week

hey did you guys know that i'm still fixated on @spadillelicious's Love Death and Rollerskates AU? ;)))

Yes?

ah

ok ;)

|| Bonus ||

[elminster-big-naturals]

when its 4am and the whole squad is zooted out their gourds trying to read the overhead menu in mcdonalds

[cavalierclavier]

When I broke the cycle, I made sure that the tear was rough. You carry a part of what should be her, and she carries a part of what should be you.

[keferon]

Some more Mistakes on mistakes until fanart because ehehe I love this scene

[ofswordsandpens]

percy, mentally ill: I feel like I deserve to die. It's a punishment because im a horrible person. Does that sound crazy?

jason, also mentally ill: No that tracks bro samesies