#even acknowledge the genuinely triggering shit in the fic?

[hws-lceland]

danish slaughterhouse fanart

[ghoul-foolery]

Dirty Windows | 17 | Nora x Hancock

A Fallout 4 Soulmate AU

//

Fic Summary:

Hancock never thought he would find his soulmate. Once a common occurrence, soulmates turned into a bit of a rarity after the bombs dropped. It was to be expected when there was an influx of people getting shot in the face on a daily basis. So when Hancock discovered that he had a soulmate he was ecstatic; all of the people in the Commonwealth, and he was one of the lucky few.

Too bad his soulmate didn't want anything to do with him.

When Nora thought for sure she was going to die too, the pain stopped – and then there was nothing. Nothing but the emptiness. Nothing but the grief. Half of her soul was suddenly gone forever. She was dropped in the middle of the ocean, drifting among the waves with no land in sight. Then just as suddenly she had been cast adrift, she found land. The hole was filled the moment it had been created. As she gripped Nate’s vault suit and begged him to open his eyes, Nora found herself battling with the horrifying realization that she had another soulmate; that some stranger had taken Nate's place.

//

[ 1 ] <- [ 12 ] [ 13 ] [ 14 ] [ 15 ] [ 16 ] - [ 18 ]

//

Trigger Warning: Mentions of intent to Rape/NonCon, Mentions of Trafficking - While it doesn't get anywhere near that territory, a couple of unsavory guests make their intentions very clear.

//

Hancock was lashing out, and he was abundantly aware of it. This time, he wasn’t feeding off of her feelings, and he was sure that she wasn’t feeding off of his. These emotions were genuine. Even as Hancock yelled, even as he chucked an empty bottle of vodka against the far wall of his office, he knew that shit was disintegrating around him. He was throwing all of his pent up stress and anger at her – and it felt good to finally let it out. The days he had spent desperately trying to get his soulmate to acknowledge his existence had almost physically hurt. Watching her get injured, and having her decline any form of help had almost been worse. He'd begged her to just acknowledge him, and she'd ignored him. Even though he was sure that he understood her end of the situation, it didn’t mean it didn’t hurt any fucking less. If yelling at the woman was the only catharsis he was going to get, he would happily take it.

”—And then last night—”

“Last night ain’t got nothin’ t’do with this,” he bellowed. “You’ve wanted me gone the second you realized I was fucking here!”

”You lied to me! You lied to me about—“

“I didn’t lie about shit! I never once said—“

“You deliberately withheld information! That is a lie by omission!”

“Oh, please! Get offa yer high horse—“

”I’m not—“

“The fuck you ain’t! And just so you know, it hasn’t been a fuckin’ treat bein’ connected to you, either, sister! D’you know how fucking shitty it is—“

”I haven’t mislead—“

“—realizing that you have a soulmate, and she hates you simply because you exist!? Because that is the only reason—“

”And I was right to hate you! You tortured that man! You’re no better than anyone out here! You were misleading me. Who knows what you would have done to me if I—“

“What I would’a done t’you? I’ve been busting my ass t’take care of you! I’ve been—“

Nora was pacing, stomping back and forth in front of  the tailgate of a dead pickup. It was funny, because he had taken to pacing, too. No one had bothered to make sure he wasn’t locked in his office killing someone. The majority of the Neighborhood Watch knew his situation. Them, Fahrenheit, and Daisy knew about Nora – and Hancock had made sure that they wouldn’t be telling anyone anytime soon. It was for his, and Nora’s safety. If word got out to the wrong people that Hancock had a soulmate, it might cause trouble for the both of them.

Hancock's steps faltered, stomping to a halt. During their argument, he had been getting a view of his office, as well as an image of wherever the hell she was. His office overlapped her perspective; he saw elements from his office, with some sort of blurry expanse of wasteland resting just beyond it. If he focused on one perspective in particular, he could easily make the other vanish. So, while he paced with both his and her perspective swimming around in his vision, he noticed two people. Their size was too disproportionate for them to be standing in his office. Hancock’s attention shifted, the image of the wasteland becoming more prominent until his office no longer existed.

The boiling anger that had been fueling his tirade turned into frigid ice as she pivoted and turned her back to the newcomers.

“Nora,” he said her name softly, firmly. The change in his tone made her voice falter, and her steps slowed. “You got company incoming. They didn’t look like the friendly type. If you run for it, y’can bet yer ass that they’re gonna start shootin’.”

To his surprise, Nora kept pacing, and she kept yelling. She was holding a one sided argument with herself now. She was ranting and raging as if the incoming threat wasn’t there at all.

“Nora, baby, what the fuck? Please just fucking listen to me this one goddamn time–�� 

When she spoke her voice pitched low, and her stride didn’t break. “They were approaching a woman having a screaming match with herself,” she said in a frantic whisper. “I’m going to let them think that for as long as I can.”

“Okay, okay – you got a weapon handy?”

”So you think I’m an idiot now, too?!” she shrieked dramatically, still pacing. She pivoted towards her audience, seeming to make it a point to focus on the approaching duo for a mere second just before she pivoted once again, her back to them. Her gaze locked onto her pistol, propped next to her Pip-Boy under the hood of the car she had been tinkering with. A soft hiss, barely audible, reached his ears, ”John, I…”

“I know, sweets. You don’t have a whole lotta options right now. They didn’t look like they’re lookin’ to fight just yet. Just, focus on me if ya need t’keep calm, okay? I’m right here with you, baby. Understand? I'm right here with you."

A mere second was dedicated to rallying up all of his rampant emotions; he couldn't offer her any sort of soothing, even-headed calm. All he had was raw nerves and the hissing remains of his explosive anger. And worry. There was so much worry. His girl was out in the Commonwealth getting into trouble again and there was fuck-all he could do to stop it. 

She took a deep breath, and then her voice pitched up into an irate yell. ”I want you outta my head! Get out!” her hand lifted, and he felt the heel of her palm smack into the side of her head once, twice. ”GET OUT!” As she turned on her foot, Dog barked from somewhere nearby, and her steps faltered to a stop. She slowly cocked her head to the side. Hancock’s vision tilted, and he held his breath.

”Hey there, lovely,'' One of the men drawled. His voice was overly friendly, and his rotten smile was unsettling. His eyes raked over Nora’s body without shame, and his smile grew. Hancock faced the scrutiny right along with her, standing and witnessing everything as if he were in her place. He was a tall man, and he was lean. He was wearing a mess of various armor pieces, things created out of various scrap parts. His partner was similarly dressed, though the entirety of his torso was bare. Where his partner was tall, he was stocky, muscular. Scars marred his skin, some looking deliberate and decorative. A gas mask covered his face. Both were armed, but neither of them had their weapons at the ready.

Gas Mask blatantly adjusted himself, palming his groin through his pants. Tall Guy licked his lips, nice and disgustingly suggestive. Hancock felt Nora’s stomach churn.

“Easy, Nora,” he whispered. “Easy. Focus on me, honey. Get to yer gun if you can.”

Hancock’s vision tilted from one way, to the other as Nora cocked her head the other way. She released a ragged breath, ”Can I help you?”

“Who are you talkin’ to, lovely?” Tall Guy purred, shuffling forward casually.

”The voice won’t stop talking,” she whined in an airy voice, then whimpered softly as she turned her back to them again. Her palm smacked into the side of her head once again. ”I said SHUT UP!” she resumed her pacing, stomping towards the car, towards her gun and her Pip-Boy.

“Be careful, now,” Hancock murmured. “As much as I dig yer acting chops, don’t get too cocky.”

”She’s fuckin’ crazy. They didn’t say she was crazy.” A muffled voice chuckled. ”Shut her up and that ass will bring in a shit ton’a caps, though.”

“I can think of a few things that’d shut her up.”

A hair raising tremor shot down Nora’s spine, and it made Hancock’s body quake before he was able to steel himself. He may not be the poster child of the Commonwealth, but he had some morals. He wished he was there; he would tear these fuckers apart, limb by limb.

Nora neared the car, and she placed her hands on the grill as she leaned down under the hood. She could see both men in her peripherals, standing at the truck now. They were maybe six feet away, and they were closing in. Nora reached into the car, pretending to tinker, but her hand fell onto her pistol. Gas Mask split away from Tall Guy, walking around the front of the car.

”She’ll pull in more caps if she’s clean. The boss will—“

“You sayin’ that you’re gonna pass on an opportunity to fuck that? This is a vault bitch. I bet that cunt is real fuckin’ sweet. It’s not like they are going to know if we found her in mint condition.”

Hancock seethed, his fingers flexing into fists. If his skin hadn’t been completely destroyed his palms would be bloody, and the knuckles would have gone white with strain. Even as he did his absolute best to focus and remain calm, his breathing had hitched and increased. His shoulders were rising and falling as if he had just ran a mile. His heartrate was elevated, he could feel his pulse in his throat. He was almost positive he could feel his blood starting to rush in his veins. Maybe this was what going feral felt like. 

“Nora, baby, listen. You don’t let those fuckers get close to you. Take them out, then get outta there, you feel me?” He wanted to get the name of their boss, wanted to know who “they” were. He’d wipe the sonnova bitch off the face of the earth. But Nora came first, he didn’t want to put her into any more trouble than she was already in. Fuck, he just needed her to come home.

”Yeah,” she whispered, her voice trembling and weak. He ached for her, wishing he was there to keep her safe during her time of need. ”I feel you.”

“Aw, lovely. That voice still bugging ya? I can give you something to make it go away. It’ll make you feel real good. I promise.

Tall guy was drawing in closer; five feet, four, three. Gas Mask was nowhere to be seen, but Hancock could hear his footsteps near the front of the car. Tall Guy stepped in close beside Nora. He placed his shotgun down among the leftover machinery in the car. He either didn’t notice Nora gripping her gun against the wrecked innards of the car, or was too cocky to care. A hand slid to Nora’s hip, gliding over the curve of her ass as an inhaler was procured. 

Hancock saw red. He felt the hand ghost over him, rough and appreciative. He felt the hand grip Nora’s ass as if it were his own.

“Goddammit, Nora, what the fuck did I say?! WASTE THE FUCKER!”

”DOG!”

There was a snarl, and the sound of buckshot. Nora whirled, the butt of her pistol slamming into the man’s face. Tall Guy shrieked his surprise, staggering back. It gave her time to adjust her grip and take aim. The first shot went into the fucker’s right thigh. The pain was enough to get him to stagger. His leg gave out and he fell back onto his ass. Nora held her aim, leveling the barrel at his head as she took a couple of steps back. She caught sight of Gas Mask. The guy was on the ground, a furious canine latched onto his throat. With the other threat taken care of, Nora released a breath that she had been holding.

“Shotgun, Nor. Grab his shotgun.”

She did. Her pistol was placed next to the Pip-Boy, and she picked up the guy’s sawed-off. As Tall Guy started to kick himself backwards, Nora stepped forward, closing the distance between them. Just as Hancock was going to tell her to finish him, she took the weight of the gun into one hand, and leveled the barrel to the guy’s crotch.

”What’s your boss’ name?” her voice was icy, and frighteningly calm. Hancock’s eyes widened marginally – did she ask her to get the name? Had he been thinking out loud? Was it possible to read a soulmate’s mind?

”Fuck you, you bitch!”

“What’s your boss’ name? You have three seconds before I shoot. One. Two—“

Tall Guy’s leg moved, and Hancock yelled. It felt like the world around him had been kicked out from under him. He felt the rush of air as Nora’s feet were kicked out from under her. He felt the world around him lurch, and he felt himself falling – but he was still standing, still as a statue in the middle of his office. As Nora’s body dropped to the ground, the gun went off. The scream was so shrill that, for a terrifying second, Hancock thought that Nora had been hurt. As his woman struggled to right herself, as she shoved herself back and away from her assailant, Hancock caught a glimpse of the man as he curled into the fetal position.

Nora didn’t need to count to three. She shot Tall Guy in the dick, after all. Hancock couldn’t help the swell of pride he felt in his chest as Nora finished the job. Without awaiting further instruction, he watched as she started to root through the guy’s pockets. A smile lit his features as he sank to his knees. 

Another near miss. Another day that could have ended with him losing his soulmate. Hancock basked in the relief.

//

Tag List: @takottai / @a-little-pebbl 

[prince-liest]

YOURE TELLING ME MY DESPERATION FOR TRANS VOX CONTENT INFECTED YOU ????? AND THE NEXT INSTALLMENT IS ABOUT IT AS WELL AS VOX FINALLY GETTING FUCKED? YOURE JOKING. YOURE JOKING. OH MY GODDDDDDDDDDDHHSHSJEHEHRJRE IM SOBBING ON THE FLOOR I PRAYED FOR TIMES LIKE THESE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i’m ready to get sucker punched!!!!!!!!!!! in all seriousness i’ve never been so excited for a fic update in my LIFE. HOORAYYYYYYY!!!!!!! and who wants to bet that alastor at first uses the vox getting fucked event as a balm to his current fractured ego, but then gets genuinely overwhelming fucking fond? nearly ruins the whole thing for him. all i’m SAYING is the there’s wayyyyy to much evidence of alastor getting, in his words, “squishy feelings” about vox when he acts Particularly uhhh….. unfiltered. and something tells me vox is gonna be unfiltered. the possibilities im SO EXCITED!!!! - 🌓

Under a cut for length!

and ANOTHER THING. alastor making a FUCKING DEAL?.????? as you know i was already wrung dry by that point in the story, ready for the cool down from high emotions, then BOOM. LIKE WHAT THE FUCK? I NEEDED TO TAKE A BREAK WITH VOX!!!!!!!! ALASTOR YIU FUCKING MAD MAN. and yes i IMMEDIATELYYYYYYY noticed that vox essentially agreed to nothing while alastor agreed to something WAY more soul binding. im just in shock because i think this is the biggest display of love alastor has portrayed in the whole series so far. even BY far. with the sexual stuff, alastor is/was new to it all and unsure. even with the general intimacy stuff. but this? deals? soul contracts? this is His Domain. so far, vox has been guiding alastor through this relationship, and alastor has almost had a plausible deniability in it all. like clearly, he enjoys it and loves vox, even if he doesnt acknowledge it to himself. but his facade allows him the distance to claim Vox is the one making this relationship happen, and alastor is going along on a whim. we even see it in the last chapter, when alastor says he never trusted vox [hilarious that he said that right after he said that he trusted vox. alastor revealing things he didn’t mean to when scared and angry is my favorite theme in this series], and overall said this whole thing was a mistake and he was Foolish for being TRICKED INTO IT!!! i’m not explaining this well but the idea is that alastor had the plausible deniability that he was the Passive Participant thus far. this deal? CHANGES ALL OF THAT. on a base level, it shows that he’s so serious about this relationship that his FUCKING SOUL IS ON THE LINE. THE THING THAT JUST TRIGGERED HIM INTO HIS FIRST PANIC ATTACK? YEAH THAT. and of course that the contract was wayyyyyy more binding for him than vox. and that he clearly KNEW that. it’s just all a double edged sword. alastor made the deal in order to flex his power and pull one over on vox, which soothed him after the panic attack and vox seeing him that “weak”. but he also did it because vox opened up to him about his experience with domestic violence. and he felt so uncomfortable and guilty (YES guilty im interpreting it like that) about it that, at the very least subconsciously, he immediately made a SOUL CONTRACT that he’d never attack vox again rashly. like oh my fucking god. this, in turn, shows how invested he is, and how much he cares for vox. IN SUM. alastor probably made this deal as a conscious power play, but it really just showed how much he loves and respects vox. LOSER!!!!!!! and is this reminding anyone of anything? seems to be paralleling vox carving himself up for alastor post adam. god these ancient men. sorry for the essay !!!! if you were a college professor and i had to write analytical essays on your work i PROMISE i would tear that shit up. LIFE IS GOOD. -🌓

Hey anon, I just want you to know that ILY and I love your essays. This is like the most exciting and gratifying pair of asks to wake up to as an author, ehehehe. You are VERY on point and I love reading your analysis! >:))

[blacktobackmesa]

(@official-hatsunemiku) read the rfyl update like an hour after it dropped? benreys prank was SO SCARIES if i was gordon i would have gone straight to the panic attack. i do think it def in character for him and i really appreciate how it SHOWS how hes changed between the original series and this with apologizing and calming gordon down. even the slow realization of when gordon still believes it that you can see benrey is like. Oh Shit.?

i also really like the short conversation with tommy about it, for some reason? it wasnt even gone over that much but like. hey, you messed up, you shouldnt joke about that and you gotta apologize for it, but it's not a make or break and we're gonna keep moving.

it doesnt feel like.. separate? from the plot? it goes along with the story itself really well. really similar to the actual series with genuinely scary stuff being immediately bounced back from - but they dont just let it go and not talk about it, they acknowledge it and are clear about their feelings on it and move on.

i liked it, its a neat little thing and tbh i think we need a ltitle bit of that stuff to keep us on our toes!

Thank you so much for the feedback! I was being kind of self-critical about the interaction when it first dropped, but I think it's that kind of thing where you've been sitting on the detail for so long that you don't know what it's going to look like for people who haven't been marinating in it.

I'm glad you picked up on Benrey's gradual realization that he fucked up-- I didn't want it to be a super sudden 180 for him. And yes!! He's changing!! He's developing and learning! His revelation at the end of the Memory fic was a real wake-up call about how the way he sees things isn't universal, and he needs to communicate when there's friction. It's something that he and Bubby have in common that I'm looking to dig into with future works. They both like to play jokes and mess with people, but don't always see the context that makes the jokes harmful until it's too late. Bubby was super into gaslighting Gordon for goofs during the original run, so when Gordon later explained that he was experiencing a psychotic episode during the military ambush and fully believed that he was going to die of an amputation wound... yeah. Bubby fully blamed himself for putting Gordon into that headspace. He still likes to fuck with Gordon these days, but he's nervous about Gordon's triggers.

I wanted it to feel smoothly incorporated into the plot instead of just a Gotcha! so I'm glad it read that way. The tension's high, so a big scare followed by the relief that it was only a poorly thought-out trick helps to release some of that tension while also developing some character. Talking to Tommy about it wasn't originally planned, but I'm SO glad I put it in, honestly. You've got Benrey admitting he was wrong and processing it with somebody, you've got the characters acknowledging that something important happened, letting it make its mark while still allowing themselves to let it go, and you've got something to fill the action space while I get Gordon and the gang from Point A to Point B. I'm gonna need a lot of that last one...

Thanks so much for the thoughtful comment!!

[wordsinhaled]

you know what else i fucking love sandman and dreamling fandom for???

the other day i was reading “whensoever” by spqr and it kinda blew my mind because i realized—i was like, shit, this may actually be the first time i’ve REALLY read two characters navigating a sexual dynamic in which one of them carries trauma in a way that felt relatable and genuine and loving, and i’ve read a Lot of fic in my life

like. this fandom just Gets It you know??? i feel like these portrayals of dream have been some of the best and most lovingly rendered grey-ace rep i’ve seen

like... dream asks to keep his clothes on during sex and that’s Okay!!! and hob still fucking adores him. and then half an hour later dream wants to take the lead and that is Okay too and hob gives him the agency to own his body and his physicality and loves him any and every which way he is comfortable, and their sex is fun and amazing and lifechanging not because neither of them is without baggage and not Despite that baggage but because of their ability to acknowledge and love each other through it

i adore this fandom for the portrayals of dream acquainting or reacquainting himself with sex and with his bodily autonomy, and with the portrayals of dream sometimes getting triggered, even right in the middle of sex, and how that doesn’t have to ruin intimacy. i adore how dream is shown, for example, that to be cruelly forced to be naked and exposed in a glass cage is so vastly different from being naked and exposed under the eyes of your lover who thinks you’re beautiful and knows the pain you carry and doesn’t shrink away from it — even if sometimes those two experience carry the same bodily memories and can get all tangled up, and that’s Okay because your lover will catch you

i adore the portrayals of how dream handles his trauma as an immensely, ridiculously prideful person who doesn’t want to feel vulnerability, and how hob just makes all of that Okay, not because hob is magically healing or because the trauma is gone, but because hob is just so fucking consummately loving and so human

that’s beautiful

like. i’m pretty sure that healed something in me, personally

anyway all this to say thanks for being a++++ humans dreamling authors!

and on a related note even though it’s not dreamling, it’s no wonder ‘calliope’ is also the best trauma survivor story i’ve seen... like, sandman is just on another level when it comes to the portrayal of Humanity and i... simply am overcome

[crappy-writings]

The Three Words

Part 3 to “Patch Me Up”

Kate BishopxReader // Fluff [Established Relationship]

Summary: You insisted on helping Clint and Kate on their Christmas Eve mission, much to Kate’s dismay.

Trigger Warnings: Guns & minor description of wounds. Let me know if anything else needs to be added.

Word Count: 7,776

A/N: This took longer than I wanted it to, but a whole lot of shit happened in the last few months, so. Hope you enjoy this last part!

Let me know if anything needs to be fixed!

Main Masterlist  | MCU Masterlist | Recced Fics Masterlist

← Part 2

“I don’t see my mom yet,” Kate looks around the lounge with keen eyes, scanning through the faces of the various partygoers.

“Why don’t you tell me what you do see?” Clint quickly scanned through the room, too, before settling on Kate, “What are our assets? What are our threats?”

“Mmm. Threats? That guy,” Kate’s eyes landed on a familiar man who was yelling at one of the waiters that was distributing drinks, “That’s Gary. He fired me from one of the only jobs I ever had.” Clint nodded his head slightly in acknowledgment.  

“Assets? Well, we have those all over the party,” Kate smirks slightly as she spots their allies throughout the party. It is now that Kate realizes that the waiter Gary was yelling at was Wendy, her annoyance evident on her face as she rolls her eyes and unclenches her jaw. Orval was out front greeting guests and checking their coats, while Grills and Missy were offering appetizers to the guests. Lastly, her eyes settled on you, who was standing behind the bar, fixing drinks. She sees you laugh politely as you hand a drink to a guest. The sight of you brings a smile to her face, until the reality of the situation settled in.

You had fervently insisted on being a part of this mission, much to Kate’s distress. She tried to convince you to not come to no avail. Hell, she even asked Clint to see if he could convince you against joining, but he too was defeated.

She wanted– needed to keep you safe. She knows the risks that come along with the job, she knows what she is getting into. She has been training for this moment since she was a child, and the chance was finally here. She would not pass it up.

But she is not willing to put you in harm's way, and this is the definition of harm's way. She recalls the night she met Clint, how you told her that she would not be doing this alone. She did not think you meant it this way, of you insisting on being a part of this mission. She can not protect you here if things go sideways, and that scares her.

She wondered if this is what you felt, ever since learning about the Tracksuit mafia, the black widow assassin and now the Kingpin and her mother. Perhaps that’s why you joined, wanting to make sure she was safe firsthand. She did not have the answer yet, but maybe, once this was all over, you would tell her.

Perhaps it was selfish, to want to be a hero and to keep you in her life, all at the same time. Perhaps it was selfish of her to hope that you will stay. But, if you were willing to stay with her through it all, if you wanted to stay with her despite her career choice, then would it truly be selfish?

Your eyes meet hers and you give her a genuine smile. To finally spot Kate at the party after serving snobby guests all night was a sight for sore eyes. You force another laugh as a patron that trapped you in conversation makes a stupid joke. You could not wait for this guy to leave already.

His attempts at flirting were subpar, to put it lightly, and were not subtle. You were pretty sure he felt emboldened by the alcohol in his system. It was, quite frankly, pissing you off. The awful flirting went on for a few more minutes despite you trying to do your job. You quickly grew tired of listening to his voice and looked for a way to leave the one-sided conversation.

“Please excuse me, I have to get more champagne bottles from the back,” you lie and promptly head towards the kitchens, not allowing him time to respond. Once you were hidden away in the safety of the kitchens, you rub your eyes as you groan, “I hate people.”

You quickly regain your composure and go get at least two champagne bottles, so as to not arouse any suspicion. Gary was not a pleasant man, and you certainly did not want him yelling at you. You walked to the back and grabbed the bottles.

The sound of a breaking glass sets every muscle in your body on high alert. Far away screams fill your ears as people begin to panic. A second glass is broken, then a third. ‘Was someone shooting at the building?’

You walk out into the main kitchen, and you see Kate, along with her mother and her mother’s fiancé.

“Hey, were those gunshots?” you approach them quickly and put the two bottles you were carrying on the table beside you.

“I-I don’t know,” Kate furrowed her brow as she looked between everyone in the group. “What the hell was that?” Kate says into her comms device as the commotion outside grew louder.

“Shots fired. We’re workin’ on gettin’ these people outta here,” you hear the voice of an agitated Clint through your own comms device.

“Mom, Jack, stay here,” Kate says in a commanding voice as she begins to walk away.

“Kate, do not go out there, it’s too dangerous,” Eleanor says authoritatively.

“You’re the reason it’s dangerous out there, mom. Just stay put and stay out of this,” Kate responds defiantly. Her eyes held a simmering anger towards her mom. Her gaze then shifts to you, her eyes growing softer as she takes in a breath. “Please be careful,” she says in a gentler, quieter tone, her eyebrows being drawn together ever so slightly.  “I will, you too,” you say quickly, wishing you could reach out and squeeze her hand. She gives you a nod, before running out to the main floor.

You take a quick glance back at Jack and Eleanor, only to see her retreating towards the emergency exit stairs. You stayed frozen in place for a few seconds, unsure of what to do, before deciding to go after her.

“Uh, Miss-Miss Bishop, you– Kate said to stay here,” you say dubiously as you catch up to her. She makes no effort to slow down, instead choosing to ignore your protests. “Miss Bishop, this-this is a bad idea, I really think–,” you continued but she interrupted.

“I understand you believe you are trying to help, but I have things under control,” she said sharply as she stopped going down the stairs and turned to look at you. You clench your jaw tightly, whatever doubt you had disappeared almost instantly.

“No, you aren’t listening,” you respond with the same type of fierceness she had met you with, “you are in genuine danger, the type of danger that could get you killed, all because you underestimated your partner. There are a whole bunch of people out there who are trying to keep you safe, including your daughter, yet here you are, not doing what you were told. You have two choices, trusting and listening to Kate or doing whatever it is you’re going to do.” You maintain eye contact and level a challenging glare to prove that you were not intimidated.

“You are kids who don’t know what you’re doing, and you will get hurt,” she insists, “you need to let the adults handle this situation.”

“You are the adult responsible for this mess in the first place! And you clearly can’t clean it up, not by yourself at least! And quite frankly, you should give your daughter a lot more credit for what she’s capable of,” you say coolly, “but you’re clearly not willing to stay still and do what you were told, so I can’t help you. I’m gonna go back to help those people get out of the building. Goodbye, Miss Bishop.”

It was clear your words had no impact on her. Instead, she sighed and continued her descent down the stairs.

Jack was gone by the time you got back to the kitchen. By the time you re-entered the main hall, the lights had been turned off while people continued to run towards the elevators, stumbling and pushing whoever was in their way. Others stayed behind, ducking behind walls, overturned tables, and couches. You spot Orval directing people out of the room.

Things seemed to be going according to plan.

Your eyes scan the room, and you see small groups of people hiding behind overturned couches, tables, and chairs. ‘Okay, let’s get these people out,’ you duck down and walk along the protection of the wall.

You made your way over to them, helping them reach the elevators. Two people were injured; one was suffering from a graze wound on her arm, while another had hurt his ankle. You told the man with the injured ankle to stay where he was and that you would return for him. In the meantime, you grabbed a clean piece of cloth and tied off the woman’s wound. After getting her out of harm’s way and close to the elevators, you returned for the man. By that point, the building was no longer being shot at, but it was still not safe.

You helped him up to his feet and got him to the elevators, too. The hall was brimming with panicked guests, all pushing and shoving each other in the attempt at getting out. Missy and Wendy were having a hard time directing the guests, as none of them would listen. Once you got there, two members of the injured man’s party, a lanky man and a tall woman, found him and they took over from then on. “Thank you for helping him,” the woman says gratefully before following the two men. “You’re welcome,” you say even though she had already left. You returned to the main lounge in search of any others who needed help.

“The main lounge has been cleared,” you said through comms after confirming no one was left on the main floor. “Everyone is almost out and down the elevators,” Missy says.

“Kate’s mom’s not here. She’s gone,” you hear Orval say through comms.

“She left as soon as Kate found her. I tried stopping her, but she wouldn’t listen. Last I saw her, she was going down the emergency stairs,” you responded as you made your way to the elevators once more. “There’s nothing we can do about it now, we gotta focus on getting these people out,” says Grills.

You met with Wendy and Missy, who were corralling the last few people nearby. Once they were all packed into one elevator, all three of you took the other one. Missy grabbed a black duffel bag before getting in. “Finally,” Missy sighed and laid back against the elevator wall.

“No time to relax, the hard part ain’t over yet,” Wendy said.

The building lobby was packed with panicked people pushing to get out the door. Grills was already waiting for you there. “Let’s go, we gotta get Kate her stuff,” he says and starts pushing through the sea of people. You all spot Kate near the main door.

“Guys! Guys, where’s my gear? I need my gear,” she says desperately. “Missy!” called Grills.

“I got it! I got it,” Missy pushed forwards and handed Kate the duffle bag. “Any eyes on my mom yet?” Kate asks.

“Not yet,” Grills responds quickly.

“No? Okay,” she says quietly, almost as if it were meant for herself, “Look, I gotta get Clint outta that tree. Clear the civilians for me.”

“What about that guy?” Wendy gestures to Jack, who was fighting off some of the bros with a sword, “He doesn’t seem to…”

“He’s on our side, but we should probably get him out of here, too.”

“All right,” Wendy responds.

“All right, good luck,” and with that, Kate was off.

The four of you begin trying to direct people out of the plaza to no avail. “These people are terrible at following directions,” Wendy says with annoyance ringing in her voice. “Hey guys, I think it’s time,” Grills says.

“Are you sure?” Missy asks dubiously.

“Yeah. I mean, we’re trained professionals, but that’s not enough right now.”

“Let’s go,” Wendy says without skipping a beat and the three of them run back inside.

‘What?’ you think as you stand in place, confused. There was no time though, so you spring into action, opting to convince Jack to get going.

You run towards him and start calling his name. He turns to you after deflecting an attack. He says your name happily, “So good to see you again! You wouldn’t happen to know where Eleanor went, would you?”

“No, I don’t, sorry.”

“Ah, no matter, I’m sure she’ll turn up soon,” he replies, letting down his blade, “She’s a very resourceful woman, you know.”

“Right,” you say slowly. For a small moment, you spotted none of the mafia bros nearby. “Listen Jack, Kate said to clear out all civilians from here–,” you begin to say before he interrupts. “Mm, yes, these people must be cleared out, who knows who will get injured with these goons running about,” he says while looking at the scattering people, “yes, I shall help in clearing them out.” He begins running off and yelling for people to follow him.

You stood there dumbfounded for a few seconds, once again not understanding what the hell just happened.

You don’t have much time to think about it when you feel a hand on your shoulder turn you around. In front of you stood a tracksuit bro about to throw a punch. You dodge out of the way just in time, “Woah!”

Behind him, you see at least half a dozen more tracksuits coming from further away. You back up as he throws another punch, “Chill, man!”

“No way bro, you’re with that guy, Kate Bishop,” he replies and tries to go for a low blow. You continued jumping out of the way, not knowing when to punch back. You have seen this in dozens of movies, but that does not compare to now.

After he threw another punch, you launched an attack of your own. You threw a kick, which he dodged easily. You ended up with your back turned to him, allowing him to get you from behind. He sends a blow against your shoulder, causing you to stumble forwards. You turn towards him quickly and try throwing a quick punch when he least expected it. You managed to hit him in the jaw, but it had little effect on him.

He threw another punch and this time, his fist connected with your brow, throwing you backwards a bit. For a good few seconds, all you could see were stars floating in your vision. He goes for another punch, and you just barely get out of the way.

You aim a punch to the throat in hopes in incapacitating him enough to beat him. He choked when your fist collided, and he staggered back a few steps. You kick him between the legs, sending him to his knees, before punching him in the face as hard as you could. Thankfully, he went down.

You close your eyes and press your hands against your temples, waves of pain running through your head. Your hand and shoulder throbbed painfully. You realized something wet running down your eye. You quickly dab your finger over it and see that it was blood, “Aw crap.” You begin to gently wipe away as much as you with your sleeves. You see as the white cuffs of your inner shirt were stained red, “Damn, I liked this shirt.”

How the hell you managed to take that guy down, you’ll never know. You were just glad that this one only came at you with fists. When looking for where the rest of them had gone, you see them lying on the ground with arrows sticking out of them. Seems like either Kate or Clint got to them first. You cringed, ‘That had to hurt.’

All four of the larpers finally come out of the building, sporting their new costumes. They immediately begin shouting directions. Only now did people begin to listen to them. It dawned on you that, in a world filled with superheroes, people will listen to anyone one in spandex or hero-looking attire.

“What happened to you?!” Wendy asks when you approached them. “I kicked some ass, is what happened,” you reply boastfully, despite knowing full well you got your ass handed to you, “Nice threads, by the way.”

“Right?” Missy says loudly, “at least someone appreciates the costumes!”

“I’m just saying I could have gone without the tight pants!” Grills yells, “This way people, come on, this way!”

“I was under a time constraint close to Christmas, it was either tight pants or no finished costume at all!”

The street was mostly cleared, but there were still a few people running about.

You see a few “Trust a Bro” moving vans barrel down the street and come to a screeching halt as close to the rink as possible. Dozens of men in red and green tracksuits jumped out of the back, all carrying large guns and getting closer to the rink.

“Hey guys,” you call out the larpers, your eyes never leaving the tracksuits, “tell people to go back inside.”

“What?” Oval yelled over the sound of shouting people. It quickly dawned on you just how many of them there were, and that they were surrounding the area.

“Go back inside!” you yell, running towards the building, “Go back inside now!”

The larpers began yelling for people to run inside and those who were close enough to the Comcast building did. A man near you tripped over his own feet trying to get to the door. You helped him up and you both managed to get to the safety of the building. Thankfully, the street seemed to be clear of civilians by the time the tracksuits flooded the plaza.

You spot the larpers huddled up off to the side and you quickly make your way over to them.

“What now?” you ask once you reach them.

“Cops and paramedics are already on their way,” Wendy stated.

“Do we know if anyone in here is injured?” you asked.

“Not yet, no.”

“Then we should do that, too, it’ll make the paramedics’ jobs easier.”

The sound of gunshots going off drew your eyes out the window. Even from this distance and angle, you could see bits of the ensuing fight.

“Should-shouldn’t we be helping them?” you asked looking back at the larpers, concern laced in your tone. “I… don’t know, they seem to be handling it well,” Missy says hesitantly. It wasn’t until there was a series of bright flashing lights and several pained screams that you all made up your mind.

“Yeah, we’re staying here,” Wendy said first.

“Ain’t no way I‘m getting hit with one of their arrows,” Grills followed up.

“We’re better off waiting for the cops and the paramedics to show up,” Missy continued.

“They’re probably fine without us,” Orval finished.

“Let’s get started on that list,” you say as you back away from the window, “there’s probably some notepads and pens at the lobby desk, let’s go.”

All of you made your way through the hall, identifying and helping injured civilians. Between the five of you, you found at least 10 people with minor injuries and about 3 with more serious wounds. After a few minutes, Grills and Wendy stepped outside, hoping to direct emergency personnel towards the building once they showed up.

“Kate, your mom just came out of the side door,” you hear Grills voice say through your comms device as you tightened a piece of cloth around a man’s arm. The comms went silent after that.

A few more minutes passed before the sound of sirens could be heard. Once the law enforcement cars and the ambulances were in sight, people began to go back outside. The paramedics came inside and started tending to the more seriously injured. The list with the essential information of the injured civilians that was made was passed on to them. You made your way outside, looking on as cops began arresting the tracksuit bros, and interviewing witnesses.

You took a mental tally of who you could see; you spotted Clint speaking with one of the cops and some of the larpers were helping the paramedics; you even spotted Jack attempting to convince the cops to not take away his sword. The only people you didn’t see were Kate and her mother, much to your dismay.

You hear someone stepping closer from behind you. You turn to face them and see Wendy, her arms crossed over her chest. “Hey,” you say, giving her a half smile. She returns your greeting. “Is there anything else to do?” you ask.

“No, not really,” she answers. This was the perfect time to go and find Kate.

“Okay, well, if that’s true, then I’m just gonna– I’ll go and–”

“Go find your girlfriend, everything is covered over here,” Wendy reassured you and gave you a soft smile. “Thank you,” you say, relieved, before running off to begin your search. You knew Kate must’ve gone after her mom, so you headed to where she was spotted last.

You made your way over to the side of the building. You were met with the sight of a car that had crashed into the side into the toy store. Rubble and debris covered the floor, and there were a few “Trust-a-Bro” vans and police cars surrounding the area.

The scene set you on edge, the very real possibility of Kate being hurt returning to you quickly. You hasten your pace as you feel the anxiety bubbling in your chest.

Then you finally spot her, the red and blue lights from the cop car illuminating her face.

“Oh, thank g– Kate!” She hears you call out to her and turns around. You run towards her, closing the distance between the both of you. She catches you with a hug and holds you tightly.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” you say as you let her go, placing your hand on either side of her face while inspecting for injuries. You look at the scattered cuts on her face and you could not help brushing your thumb against her cheek.

“I’m okay, I’m okay, I promise,” she says, nodding her head before placing her hands over yours. Her eyes flickered towards your forehead and noticed the gash you had obtained earlier in the night. “What happened to your head?” she asks worriedly, her thumb gently trying to wipe away some of the blood that had begun to trail down the side of your face again.

“Don’t worry about me, I’m fine,” you answer with a small smile in an attempt to reassure her, but it was clear she was unconvinced. “Hey, I promise I’m okay,” you repeat.

“Sir, the suspect is gone,” you hear a voice say over on your left. You both turn towards the voice, and you see an officer reporting to their superior. You take a quick glance at Kate, and you see her clench her jaw. “We need to set up a 5-mile perimeter, take any available officers to search it. He can’t have gotten that far,” the superior officer said with an exasperated tone, “tell Nuñez to get the Bishop woman to the precinct and begin processing her.”

You furrow your brow and take another glance at Kate. You follow her gaze and your eyes land on the cop car, where you finally notice her mother sitting in the back. She had been arrested.

“Oh shit, Kate, I’m so sorry,” you say in a gentle tone. She looks back at you, and you see her eyes brimming with unshed tears.

“It’s over,” she says quietly as she buries her face in the crook of your neck. You strengthen your grip around her, placing one of your hands against the base of her head. “It’s over,” you echo her words to reaffirm them, “it’s finally over.”

You glance towards the back of the cop car, and you notice her mother’s eyes lingering on both your figures. For a brief moment, you made eye contact. Her expression was defeated, but she did not seem to regret it. You believe that she truly thought her actions were the correct ones and nothing would convince her otherwise.

You tear your eyes away from her, choosing to focus on Kate and on whatever it was that she needed.

After Kate’s mother had been taken away, you both made your way back to the Rockefeller Center. Cop cars and ambulances littered the space. Small groups of people stuck around, trying to take pictures and see what was happening. You manage to spot Clint speaking with another cop on the scene, while the larpers all were sitting on the benches nearby.

You and Kate sat at the back of the ambulance after the paramedics treated your minor injuries. She laid her head on top of yours, your hands intertwined together. You gently ran your thumb over the back of her hand, listening to the pattern of her breathing. After a whole night of running and fighting, the moment of silence was greatly appreciated.

You shift your head slightly, which prompts her to raise her head and sit up straight. You turn towards her and give her a small pout. She places a soft kiss one your forehead in response.

You reach out to caress her cheek with your thumb and give her smile. You see the heaviness of the night weighing her down behind her eyes. You give her hand a squeeze, to remind her that you’re here for her. You feel your heart swell tightly in your chest. Those words. Was now a good time to say them? After everything that had happened tonight, should you? Or should you wait again?

Time ran out when you noticed Clint’s figure getting closer to you both through your peripheral vision. You look up at him and he gives you a smile, a real one this time.

“Hell of a night, huh?” he says humorously. “I’ll say. Don’t know how you do this all the time,” you respond, and become aware to the soreness of your body. “You get used to it,” he says as he takes a seat beside you with a groan.

“I don’t think I could ever get used to that,” you reply. “That reminds me, you’re teaching me how to fight,” you say to Kate, much to her surprise. “Oh, am I now?” she asks with a playful smirk. “Yes, yes you are. This is New York, I should at least know how to throw a punch,” you joke.

A few seconds passed before you let go of Kate’s hand and pushed off from where you sat with a grunt. “I’ll let you two talk,” you say softly before leaning and planting a kiss on Kate’s forehead. “I’ll be over there with them,” you say, gesturing towards the larpers with your head.

Your eyes remain on her for a few lingering seconds, and you brush your hand against her cheek. Perhaps you didn’t get to say the words, not yet, but you hope that every single touch, every single kiss, every single look lets her know. Just until you get to say the words.

Upon approaching the larpers, a cop swiftly swept you away to get your statement. After about ten minutes, you finished recounting everything that happened throughout the night.

The cop thanks you before walking away. You turn to look around the scene before you. The ambulance had not left yet, and you noticed that Clint was still sitting at the back. The larpers stood together in a huddle and you could hear the sounds of their laughter as they talked. Interestingly enough, Jack was laughing along with them. There were less cops around the area and the street had mostly cleared now. The only person you could not see was Kate.

Until a familiar pair of arms wrapped around your middle. “Hey, baby,” you say softly as you melt into her touch. “Hey, baby,” she mirrors your words with the same gentleness. You turn in her arms to face her, wrapping your own arms around her. “Guess what?” she asks after a few seconds of enjoying each other’s warmth.

“We just fought the mafia?” you answer jokingly. “Yes, but not that,” she gives you a fond smile, “Clint invited us both to spend Christmas day with his family.”

You raised eyebrows in surprise. “Wait, me too?” you ask incredulously. “Yes, you too,” she responds as she softly caresses your cheek. “Really? That’s really nice of him,” a smile began to form on your lips. Then you remembered something.

“Wait, he has kids, right? And a wife? Shouldn’t we bring something over, then? We don’t have presents to give them. Where the hell do you find a store open at this hour on Christmas Eve? I mean, that toy store you wrecked is there but–” you continued to ramble about finding presents, but all Kate could do was look at you with adoring eyes.

“Hey, hey, it’s fine,” she says while giggling, “maybe we can find something at the airport.”

“Airport? We’re going on a plane? To where?” you snap out of your ramblings and ask. Kate notices the bright shine in your eyes.

“Iowa.”

“Iowa?!” you say in surprise, but, after a few seconds of thinking about it, you follow up with, “Actually, Iowa isn’t that far away, never mind.” She could not help but laugh. You absolutely adore that sound.

“You’re adorable,” she says as she wraps her arms around your waist once again.

“No, I’m not,” you deny sheepishly, as you try to hide your face by looking down. Kate giggles again and she says, “yes, you are.”

You give her a beaming smile and the swell in your chest came back.

“Okay well, when do we leave?”

“Let’s find out,” Kate grabs your hand as you both go to find Clint.

~~~

You wake up when you feel your head bump against the glass window of the car after Clint accidentally drove into a pothole on a dirt road. “Sorry,” you hear Clint say.

You felt Lucky nudging and licking your hand. You were glad Kate had finally named him, and you no longer had to refer to him by a stupid acronym. You smile down at him and begin petting him. “Are we almost there yet?” you ask groggily.  

“Yeah, actually, we’re here already,” he replies, and you finally look out the window to see the large farmhouse in front of you.

“Woah,” you say quietly as you pull into the property.

“Woah indeed.” You looked at him through the rear-view mirror and saw a faint, warm smile on his lips.

He parks his car alongside his home, right in front of a fire pit that was surrounded by wooden garden chairs. The front porch was decorated with garlands, two small Christmas trees on both sides of the door, and a small reef beside the door. There were bikes and toy trucks strewn around, as well as other miscellaneous items, such as bricks, lamps, a large sled, a broken speaker, and a lawnmower, among other things.

“Can you wake Kate up?” he asks as he gets out of the car. “Yep,” you rub the sleep out of your eyes as you sit up and lean forwards to the front of the car. You look down at Kate, who had found a way to curl up in the passenger seat. You watched her for a few seconds, seeing the way her chest rose and fell in an even pattern and how relaxed her features were. You almost felt bad for having to wake her.

“Hey baby,” you said gently as you shook her shoulder, “We’re here.” She stirred slightly but did not wake. “Kate, baby, it’s time to wake up,” you try again to no avail.

Lucky jumped forwards to the driver’s seat before beginning to incessantly lick Kate’s face. “Okay, I’m up, I’m up,” she says groggily as she bolts up in her seat.

“Hey, Lucky, come here,” you laugh while patting your lap in an attempt to divert his attention. He jumped to the back and began panting happily as you pet him.

“You guys coming?” Clint says from the back of the car.

“Yeah, yep, just a sec,” you say before you hear Clint close the back of the car. You opened the door and Lucky jumped out before you even took a step outside. He was leashed though, so he could not run off. You picked up the backpack you brought as well as Kate’s handbag and a small gift bag you got at the airport.

You didn’t find much for presents there, so you opted for getting holiday themed chocolates instead.

“Hey, are you sure this is okay?” Kate asks as you both follow Clint towards the front door. Kate helps you out by taking over Lucky’s leash. She motions to grab her bag, but you pull it away, insisting on carrying it yourself. She gives in, instead holding your hand and she gives it a soft squeeze. “I’m telling you, they’re very excited to meet you,” he replies, “the both of you.” You smile at him, appreciating the reassurance. You and Clint hadn’t gotten much time to know each other, and you somewhat felt more like an inconvenience.

“Daddy!” you watch as a young boy, probably no older than four, runs out and hugs Clint. Two older kids came out, excited to see their father. The oldest of the Barton kids helped Clint with the presents. The little boy approaches you both and asks, “What’re your names?”

Clint introduces the both of you before inviting everyone back in, “Come on in. Let’s go, it’s cold.”

You take in all the homey Christmas decorations scattered throughout the Barton’s living space as you step in. A Christmas tree decorated with red and blue lights stood in the living room, garlands and cloth ornaments with Christmas phrases etched into them decorated the walls. Soft music played throughout the living room. Family Christmas cards could be spotted throughout, as well as themed pillows, stuffed reindeers, Christmas stockings, small trees, various Santa Claus statues, among various other decorations. “Wow, they really go all out for the holidays,” you say quietly to Kate as she steps inside, Lucky immediately tugging forward, excited to meet Clint’s kids.

“The dog’s so cute, what’s his name?” the youngest of the Barton kids asked happily.

Lucky managed to get loose from Kate’s grip and rushed forwards to be petted by the kids. “That’s Lucky,” Kate replies as she tries to play off the fact that Lucky escaped her grip.

“Oh, right, yeah,” your attention is brought back to Clint. It was only now that you noticed the woman standing beside him, presumably his wife. “Brought home a couple strays.”

“Hi,” Kate says softly. “Merry Christmas,” you add. Clint introduced the both of you once more before his wife welcomed you with a hug.

After being introduced to Clint’s family, the rest of the morning passed by rather quickly, as the children opened presents while drinking warm beverages and eating leftover cookies. You and Kate handed out the chocolate bars you got, and the family seemed to appreciate the gesture.

You and Kate sat beside each other on the sofa, mugs filled with coffee and hot chocolate respectively in hand, as you watched the Barton kids open their presents. The Barton parents watched from afar in the dining room. Lila spoke to Kate about archery, having taken interest in her father’s abilities. You politely listened to the conversation, but once they got technical, you zoned out, not really having the knowledge to understand.

“Kate,” Clint suddenly calls out from his dining room table, “will you help me with somethin’ real quick?”

“Yeah, sure,” she pecks your cheek before standing up. “I’ll be back in a bit,” she says as she squeezes your hand softly before leaving. You continued a polite conversation with Lila about general interests and school.

“Is everyone done with their mugs?” you asked once the last of your coffee had run cold. “I am,” Nathaniel said cheerfully, and the older kids agreed. “Okay, let me get these washed up, then,” you say and begin to collect the dirty mugs. You take them to the kitchen and place them beside the sink.

“Can I wash these here?” you ask Laura, not wanting to come off as rude. “Oh, you don’t have to, I can get to those in a bit,” she answers as she stands up from her seat. “No, no, I insist. it’s the least I could do, after you’ve allowed us to spend Christmas with you,” you respond quickly. “You really don’t have to,” she insists. “Really, it’s no trouble,” you respond and begin to wash the mugs. “Thank you, that’s very kind of you,” Laura settled back down in her seat and began to turn a watch that you hadn’t noticed until now in her hands.

You think about the previous night’s events, of running from gunshots and dangerous men, attempting to keep people safe, of not knowing whether your newfound friends and girlfriend were safe.

It was exhausting, to say the least. You thought about Kate, how her dream of becoming a superhero was coming true. You felt the same fear that has plagued you the last couple of nights begin to rise in your chest. You were happy for her, but the thought of her facing the dangers you faced last night for the rest of her life terrified you to no end.

You cast a quick glance towards the dining room, seeing that Laura still sat at the table, the watch still in her hands. How did she do it? How does she handle having her husband go out and do dangerous things all the while maintaining a family? It seemed like it couldn’t be done.

“Hey, um, Mrs. Barton, could-could I ask you a question?” the words tumble out of your mouth before you could fully think about it. She seemed a bit startled, having been lost in thought, but still responded with, “Of course, what is it?”

“It’s just, um, and you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but, uh,” maybe you should not be asking. Maybe you should have just kept quiet and figured it out yourself, but it was too late now, you already began the conversation. “How-how do you do it? I mean, how do you deal with having to watch him go and save the world and not know if he’ll make it back?”

You winced as your voice got quieter and quieter as you finished your question. You should have kept quiet; this was probably not an appropriate question you should be asking. Her eyes softened and she gave you a small, understanding smile.

“Well, honestly, it’s… hard and kind of scary. It certainly has not been easy, but we make it work. He calls to let us know he’s safe, and he loops me in on what’s going on. He even asks for help sometimes. We have our system that works for us and our dynamic. It took some trial and error at the beginning, but we figured it out,” she answered with a smile. You were thankful that she did not seem put off by the question.

“But the reality is that there is no guarantee that he’ll make it back every time he goes out to save the world. There’s always a chance that he might not come back. The reality is that all you can do is wait and trust them to make it back safely every time. It takes a lot of hard work and communication to maintain a relationship like this.”

You remain silent for a few seconds, absorbing her words. “It’s not a great answer, but it’s how it is,” she says sympathetically.

“Oh no, no, I understand, it’s, uh– Thank you. For your honesty and the advice, I appreciate it, truly,” you say sincerely.

“You’re going to be okay. You’ll both be okay,” her kind smile was unwavering

Shrieking laughter suddenly comes from the living room as you catch a glimpse Cooper begins to mercilessly tickle Nathaniel from the dining room. “No, stop! Mommy, help!” Nathaniel cries in between his laughs. “Cooper, leave you brother alone!” Laura shouts back. The laughter does not stop, and Nathaniel calls for his mother again.

“Let me deal with this,” Laura rolls her eyes, but she wears a fond smile. “Of course,” you say as you let out a soft chuckle, “thank you, again.”

She walks away to deal with her boys. You finish washing the last of the mugs and some other dirty dishes that had been left in the sink. Not long after finishing, Kate and Clint both step inside, trying their best to warm themselves up. Kate approaches you and hugs you from behind.

“Can I talk to you outside for a sec?” she whispers softly in your ear. “Aren’t you cold?” you ask as you feel her freezing hands against your own. “No,” she lies, and you turn your head towards her, raising your eyebrows. “Okay, I am, but I do need to talk to you,” she responds as she lets go. ”Does it need to be now?” You ask as you turn towards her, not wanting her to be out in the cold for too long. New York nights were cold, but she should not be out if it is not necessary. “Yes, it’s important,” she insists. You notice her coat is open and begin to button it up, much to her amusement.

“Alright, now we can go,” you say calmly, but you felt anything but. What did she need to talk to you about? You follow her out the way you came in a few hours ago.  

Only that she didn’t say anything once you were outside. You could see the wheel turning in her head, trying to find a way to say what she wanted to say.

“So, things have been kind of chaotic recently, huh?” you begin, the silence becoming unbearable. ‘What does she need to tell me?’

“Yeah,” she laughs ironically, “Met an Avenger, got a dog, infiltrated the mafia, partied with said avenger, fought said mafia, fought a kingpin, got my mom arrested, and now, we are spending Christmas day with said avenger.”

You let out a small laugh, “these have been some really interesting last few days.”

A small silence follows as you both stare out at the Bartons’ snow-covered farm. “Listen,” she turns to you suddenly, “I know everything that's happened the last few days has been… hard. I sprung a whole bunch of things on you without warning and that wasn't really fair to you. I had you worrying about if I was okay or not and when I’d come back bruised, you were there to help me get patched up again,” her eyes softened, and her lips quirk up into a half smile.

“Hell, you were there with me when my mom got arrested. You have been there for me this entire time, despite all the craziness. I really appreciate that.”

After a few seconds, her half smile drops slowly as she continues to speak, “But I understand if this isn’t what you signed up for and… I understand if you think that maybe… If you think it would be best if we…”

“What, break up?” a different type of fear rises in your chest. You can not lose her, not this way. You loved her. By all the gods across the universe, you loved her, and you would be damned if you let her go like this. “No! Absolutely not, are you nuts?”

She seemed taken aback at your outburst. “No, listen, I don’t wanna break up. I wanna be here with you. I know it’ll be hard, and it’ll be terrifying, not knowing if you’re okay. I know that things go wrong and that you can’t guarantee that-that you’ll be safe. I know all of that,” you reach out and hold her hands, giving them a soft squeeze. You made up your mind right then and there. You couldn’t--wouldn’t lose her this way. Your heart ached at the thought of it. No, not after everything that happened, not without telling her you loved her. After all, maintaining a relationship with a superhero has been done before, and you were certain you would be able to do so too.

“But I want to stay. I want to worry about your safety, and I’ll be here to heal your wounds. I just need you to come back. I trust you to come back. I can’t imagine my life without you. Because I love you, okay? I love you.”

The three words you had been agonizing over slipped out before you could stop yourself. It surprised you how easily they came.

“You love me?” she breaks out with a wide smile.

“Yes,” you feel heat creeping up on your cheeks as you match her smile, “I love you so damn much.”

“I love you, too,” she says as she presses her forehead against yours. She captures your lips in a sweet and passionate kiss. Her lips were cold, and she tasted like hot chocolate, but you didn’t mind it. Her arm wrapped around your waist, and you placed your hand against her cheek as you deepened the kiss. You reveled in her taste, in her touch, in her being. She was yours and you were hers.

“You have no idea how long I have been waiting to tell you that,” you say after you both break away. You tucked away a strand of hair that blocked her face. “Why didn’t you say it earlier?” she giggled. “I kept chickening out!” you feel your cheeks heating up again. Now that you had finally said it, you felt silly for not having said it before. She laughs softly before giving you a quick peck on the cheek.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” she asks.

“Yes, absolutely. I want you.”

Her grip around you tightens, “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Now that those three words had finally been said, you believed you would never, ever be able to stop saying them.

← Part 2

[alisblackgf]

Ohh I have an idea, what about Hyun-su reacting to a new girl in his class that wants to be his friend?

yes! there’s not enough hyun-su content on this platform (T^T)

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MY ONLY FRIEND

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pairing: fem!reader x cha hyun-su

TRIGGER WARNINGS: self-harm, suicide

summary: “that’s your name, right?” “you needed help getting around?”

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hyun-su didn’t have any friends, and any day that he went to school was full of dread and misery. the bullying he endured each day made him suicidal, and tainted his mind with thoughts of ending his life and feeling worthless, but you came along. you looked nice enough, but so did everyone else. and everyone else doesn’t give less of a shit about him, some of them going as far as to harm him. he acknowledged your beauty but didn’t dare to approach you, after all, he knew better than to trust random people, considering his situation.

so you approached him.

“ah, cha hyun-su? thats your name, right?” you gave him a warm and genuine smile, but he didn’t respond. he stared at you for a while, before looking back down. you took matters into your own hands and sat down next to him.

“i’m new here, actually, and i was hoping you’d show me around.” you spoke once more, hoping he’d answer this time. you waited patiently, but again, no response. you sighed and got up, ready to ask another person for help but he stopped you.

“wait! y-yes. my name is cha hyun-su. you needed help getting around?”

you turned around and gave him a soft smile, one that could almost rid you of all suspicions hyun-su had of you, suspicions like you trying to humiliate him to impress his bullies. but he knew better. and so did you. as he showed you around, you asked him personal questions, just to get to know him.

favorite color?

favorite food?

favorite subject?

no matter how distant he was toward you, you just kept trying. eventually, he warmed up to you. each day you came to school, he was always there, staring at the door waiting for you to arrive. he knew he meant a lot to you when you stood up to his bullies for him, and walked with him everywhere to ensure his safety. he couldn’t fathom how a beautiful girl like you could ever care so deeply for a guy like him. even his own family didnt care about him so why did you? you patched up his self-inflicted wounds, and he’s never felt such a strong emotion. tears welled up in the poor boy’s eyes, he deserved better. the two of you were two peas in a pod, two birds on a wire. and you wouldn’t trade that friendship for anything.

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THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING!! my first fic yay! usually i only write hcs but it’s hyun-su, i’m going all out for my husband

[mandaloriangf]

given the topic of reylos and fandom, im gonna say a thing and i hope it makes sense, but if it doesnt definitely feel free to point out

as context, i spent most of my entire 20+ years of life engrossed in fandom. im the white autistic girl exploring sexuality and identity through fandom lenses that these communities love to trot out as the reason why fandom criticism is a form of oppressive rhetoric (its not).

fandom has always been an actively hostile space to those it considers "other" (black people overall and most especially black women, gay men who are treated as concepts and not people and told to be silent on the trend of harmful abusive slash fiction). it has not ever been a fully welcoming community

but i really do believe reylos ruined fandom as a concept overall

to elaborate, the size and proliferation of reylos sparked a league of discourse that left the boundaries of star wars entirely and instead focused around a singular question, applicable regardless of media content you consume. who is fandom for? this question split the identity of fandom in twain.

reylos, and quickly following behind pro-shippers and anti antis, answered that fandom was for "everyone" but in reality encouraged an environment where fan content was never questioned or criticized regardless of its contents or implications and that to do so indicated something about you as a person rather than your critical debate skills or media consumption. fandom was a space for pleasure, sexual and literary, first and foremost, and nothing could infringe on that. it is considered the ultimate escapism and ultimate freedom, through the thin veneer of fiction. nothing you say or do reflects anything about your person because none of it is real, it only FEELS and is meant to feel good, via catharsis or fluff or erotic fanworks. the fiction you write is a means of exploring your happiness through a vehicle of media consumption, with no bearing on reality whatsoever, so even if you write objectively awful triggering topics, the only request is that you at least acknowledge its fucked up even if you do NOTHING to protect other people from it. it is a position of inherent selfishness actively hostile to marginalized peoples, most especially women of color.

on the other side of this divide is anyone with a functioning brain. grossly oversimplifying the situation but this is already long enough lmao.

the faults of individuals acting in these debates is almost tangential. awful people of all stripes were drawn to both sides of the divide to leverage power gained from getting clout through discourse, but one side was significantly more accepting due to the inherent nature of their position. if you thought fandom was meant to be fun and nothing else, all you really had to do was apologize and everything would be swept under the rug. obviously plenty of people get away with this shit no matter what, but we have to notice the trend of genuinely awful and abusive reylos and anti-antis continously able to remake and move accounts with no issues

this discourse moved from star wars into the general online conversation, and then was taken back to individual fandom communities. and fandom was absolutely torn apart. anyone who couldnt stand it packed up and left, artists were driven out by the droves of people who liked their art and saved it but refused to share or reblog it, fanfiction writers didnt get any interaction unless they went out of their way to cater to the niche specific fanon interpretations regardless of how much it clashed with the source material, and reylos and their legacy fostered an active culture of harassment.

reylos didnt just ruin star wars

reylos ruined *everything*, even for the communities of people they hold up as their martyr, white autistic girls like myself exploring identity.

there is no content for questioning people anymore. there is no content of exploration. there is no fic detailing recovering from abuse with loved ones while exploring facets of yourself you couldnt face. im sex repulsed and wlw, can you imagine how hard it is for me to find something that covers these topics that isnt straight up porn?

these problems are compounded even MORE for anyone who isnt white, to levels i am shielded from thanks to my privelege. and now, when people like stitch find publication to discuss her experiences in an open forum, she is subject to a harrassment campaign that is now the norm.

its monstrous

(sorry for the long ask rip, hope u enjoy the impromptu essay)

i wouldn’t say reylos are the ones who ruined fandom but instead they are the natural progression of a community where racism has run rampant and it’s run rampant for the reasons you listed.

reylos in particular are especially sinister in the way they utilize progressive language as a way to shield themselves from criticisms of racism and make themselves feel justified in viciously attacking and driving out poc who speak up. and that way they can make the fandom a safe space for themselves and only themselves. and other fandoms do the same.

[findingtheperfectcharacter]

What You Are Part 6

Hey guys! Sorry that I vanished on you these last few months, life’s been kinda hectic. 

Tw: Talk of gore, vomit and sexual humor, emotional manipulation. Unsympathetic Patton, Virgil’s moved closer to Sympathetic this chapter, intense self-loathing and belief of worthlessness. It’s Angst Hours, ask to tag, please note that this isn’t how the fic ends.

Some of the language combined with the situation Remus is in may be triggering. I repeat don't be afraid to ask to tag and take care of yourself

Patton's eyes were bright dead and swollen, leaking with tears that reminded Remus of a blister about to pop. He threw himself on Remus again, making him flinch from the pain.

"Oh Remus, how could you have done that!" Patton sobbed on Remus's shoulder. But despite the dramatics of Patton's behavior, Remus couldn't help but feel his heart warm a bit at Patton caring about him.

Patton gripped Remus's shoulders, digging his nails harshly, "How... How could you hurt Thomas like that!"

Remus felt his heart sink. Oh. Oh of course he-

"You're so selfish! Do you have any idea how hard it'll be to deal with all of those terrible thoughts for the next few days?"

Remus rolled his eyes, “And here I thought you might care about my injuries.” He crossed his arms and quickly regrets it as a rush of pain runs down the middle of his back. “Stay classy Patton.”

Patton’s eyes widened, “What? Of course I care about you kiddo! You’re just... Not the most important person in this relationship. Thomas is and I just think you-”

“You think- you think I don’t care about Thomas?” He laughed harsh and loud and angry, “Why do you think I locked myself in that room? You didn’t want me to bother him-”

Patton threw his arms in the air, “Yet here you are! Being a bother to him, messing with his head, making Virgil even more anxious because now he’s so stressed and that stupid movie’s going to give him so many terrible gorey thoughts.”

“It was your idea! You wanted to go to that stupid whatever so Thomas could make it up to Rico.” He shook his head, he was so confused, what did Patton want him to do? He couldn’t just, not be himself forever with 0 consequences-

Well, there was one way of course. But that was absolutely ridiculous, Patton might hate him but he wouldn’t... Would he?

Patton took a breath in through his nose and sat closer to Remus, “Remus, I’ve tried so many times since you were created to help you.” Remus moved back slightly, unable to hide his disgust as Patton kept talking, “Virgil could be helped, maybe even one day we can find a way for Deceit to help Thomas, but you...”

He took Remus’s hands in his own, ignoring how he pulled away, “I think it’s time that we all acknowledge that you don’t really have a purpose here. Not anything worthwhile that another side couldn’t handle.”

He put his head on Remus’s shoulder, “I hate to say it, you know I do. It hurts my heart to suggest one of my kiddos-”

“Suck my dick.” Remus said, his voice a deadly calm.

“Remu-”

He forced himself to give a single thrust, and gave a moan somewhere between faking-arousal and genuine pain. “If you’re not gonna suck my dick I don’t know why you’re still in here. Give me a little pleasure through my pain. I’m absolutely ~desperate for a good sucking off right now~.” If he were in a better position he’d have rolled onto his stomach.

But then if he were in a better position he probably wouldn’t be having this conversation right now.

And he definitely wouldn’t be thinking he has a point.

Patton sighed and said, “Just think about it for a bit.” His tone was pleading before he left.

He took a deep breath and let out a blood-curdling scream. One that shook the walls of the room, but even that barely made him feel better. Of course, the person who walked into the room after Patton didn’t help any.

“Hey emo-freak.”

“Hey shit stain.”

Virgil didn’t sit next to Remus, he stood near the doorway. Ready to run as soon as he could. As he always did.

“Why did you lock yourself in there like that?” Virgil asked. Remus was tempted to lie to him, or at least be sarcastic and tell him about how much he enjoyed being torn apart by his own creation. Say that it was some sort of masochist thing. But Virgil would know better- hell he probably already knew the answer and wanted to hear it from his own mouth. That’s the problem with being one of the few comforts for each other for years: You get a chance to know each other.

“I stupidly thought if I could manage to hide myself for a while that maybe I could get accepted.” He gives a small smile, “And maybe a bit to spite you. You and Deceit can get these smug looks on your face that make me want to punch you or puke... Or both! Oh that sounds like fun! Waiting until your face gets so bruised it makes me wanna puke or puking while I punch you, so many options-”

Virgil cringed, “Yeah, I think I get it... You know, you shouldn’t try to force this. It won’t work that way, you just need to give them time.” He rubbed his chin, “Or you could try ducking out like I did, I mean it did help them realize that I brought a lot of worthwhile things to the table and all.”

Remus groaned and it wasn’t because of the pain in his body. “Hey Virge, I have a fun question for you?” His voice was a few octaves higher than usual which only happened when Remus was doing something particularly cruel. “If I vanished 2 days ago would you come looking for me?”

 He leaned towards him and breathed onion-marijuana-breath directly into his face making him cough, “There’s so much of me to love.” He giggled as he thought of the next thing to say, “From my head to my head! But really, what would Thomas be losing if I was gone? Night after night of nightmare? More reasons to be anxious? Thoughts about his family and friends being killed in terrifying ways? Oh the horror! The tragedy of me vanishing! How would he survive!” 

He raised an eyebrow at Virgil who shook his head, “Remus you shouldn’t think that way. You’re extremely useful to Thomas! You give him...” He blinked, thinking for a second, “And you, uh- do that thing? That super useful thing that we just haven’t really had the ability to appreciate yet because you’re always around and we’ve taken you for granted?” 

Remus made a loud popping noise with his mouth, “That was shit Virgil.”

“Look, I’m trying!”

Remus shook his head, “There’s no point! Because Patton’s right, if I duck out Thomas will be better off, everyone will be better off because I don’t have a purpose. I was made to be evil and the sooner I recognize that... The sooner I can actually help Thomas by fucking off forever.” 

Virgil looked like he was ready to cry, “You’re wrong... You have a secondary purpose, everyone does! I just... Remus, even if Thomas doesn’t need you, Deceit does.”

Remus snorted and Virgil added, “It’s true! I heard him crying after he left your room because... Remus he’s terrified of losing someone else in his life. You’re the last person he has and if you lock yourself away he’ll shatter like a teacup.”

Remus swallowed, “Deceit... Needs me?”

Virgil nodded, “He probably wouldn’t admit it, but he does. And Roman- Roman would be devastated if you sunk out. And- so would I. Remus don’t duck out for our sake even if you can’t figure out a reason to do so for yourself yet.”

Remus took a deep breath. “Okay. I think I can do that.”

[petri808]

This fic was created for the MIDORIYA IZUKU: TROUBLE AT ANY AGE (BKDK Birthday Exchange 2020) as a gift to @kacchansass​ 7/15/20 

As Katsuki stands, leaning against the doorframe, he simply watches his boyfriend staring forward mindlessly while drinking his morning coffee.  He frowns, their adult years hadn’t been kind to Izuku, and it broke him to see how far the man had fallen.  Sure, they were both at the top ranks as far as hero work was concerned, but that’s where it ended.  For 20 years their only acknowledgments had been in passing on the job, and when he thought about those moments, it brought a sinking feeling in his soul.  

He blamed himself for Izuku’s fall.  Gone was the eternal optimist with a smile that could blind any in its wake.  The happy, bubbly man he’d grown up with, who’d weathered so much… had simply hit his breaking point.  

But he didn’t know!  

Sure, they’d had a rather nasty fight after graduation, but he genuinely thought Izuku happily moved on, getting married to gravity girl, and moving up the ranks like they’d dreamed of.  If anything, he thought he was the one who’d failed miserably.  Relationships never worked out in his favor, and eventually they were just sexual partners that satiated his libido…. But never his heart.

No.  No one could fill that void except the one person he was too afraid to admit held his heart in their hands.  Gah!  He’d been such an idiot in his youth!  Katsuki didn’t believe in such things as soulmates, but there was no question about it that Izuku was his, and always had been.  The one person who knew him, saw through him at every step of their lives… and he threw it all away with that fight.  Hell, he couldn’t even remember what it was about, such a stupid thing.  But it had broken the proverbial camel’s back.

He squeezes his eyes shut for a second as Izuku’s words haunt him.  ‘I’m done Katsuki!’  The use of his surname instead of his nickname was like a dagger driven straight through his chest.  The 20-year-old knew immediately he’d screwed up big time, but his pride wouldn’t let him admit it, rather screaming good riddance, that he’d never wanted to be friends in the first place….      

Till about 5 years ago when he’d learned of Izuku’s failed marriage.  That’s when he’d decided to make the plunge and reach out to his old friend.  Time and age had mellowed him or maybe beat him into toning down his anger issues.  His friend needed him, and for the first time, Katsuki gathered the strength to do something about it.  He’d braced himself to be turned away, who could blame the man if he did, but instead, Izuku let him back into his life.

“Good morning babe,” Katsuki kisses Izuku on the top of his head.  “You’re up early for a day off.”  

“Good morning Kacchan.”  He smiles with tired eyes, “it’s just a habit now.  Strange the agency told me to take a day off today.”

The blonde chuckles, “I still remember when you hated mornings.”

Izuku’s eyes widen slightly, “you remember that?”

Katsuki sets his own cup of coffee down and sits across from his boyfriend.  He takes the man’s hand in his own, rubbing his thumb against the webbing, “I remember a lot of things.”

That brings a slight flush to Izuku’s cheeks.  “What about you, you’re off today too?”

“Yeah,” Katsuki nods.  “I have a confession to make, I was the one who told the agency to give us the day off.”

His head tilts in confusion. “But why?”

“Get dressed casual, and you’ll see.”

For the first leg of the journey they travel by commuter train.  At first Izuku has no idea where they are going, but eventually the scenery grows familiar.  He questions Katsuki who merely smiles and says it’s a surprise.  Oh, that only makes the man more anxious.  What had gotten into his boyfriend today for all this rouse to be necessary?  The whole getting them out of work and now travelling to an unknown destination was out of character.  What was the blonde up to?

They exit the station and it’s evident that they’ve returned to their childhood neighborhood. “Are we visiting our parents?”

Katsuki shakes his head and points towards the nearby river where they would often play in their elementary days.  The area had changed some in the last 37 years, the brush looked a bit denser, and the trees taller than he remembered them.  Izuku looks up at his boyfriend confused, knowing it was a place that held a not so fond memory for the man.  

But without another word, the blonde kisses their conjoined hands and starts to pull them in that direction.  He searches for the now hidden path, and after a few moments finds it.  They walk along the dirt, pushing aside brush that falls in their way until they reach the riverbed below.  Did the area shrink?  Izuku muses.  Guess it looks different when you’re a child.  

“Do you remember this place?” Katsuki questions quietly.

“Yeah,” Izuku frowns, “but why are we here.” He’d spent the better part of his adult life trying unsuccessfully to stop thinking about the old days.

“That day in the river when I’d fallen…” the blonde looks up and away as if reliving the point in time.  “The day I got so angry at you for making me feel weak.  It was after that moment that I'd started to really treat you like shit and pushed you away.”

Izuku looks down.  Of course, he remembered everything.  All he’d wanted to do was help his friend. Because that’s what friends do and he thought that’s what they were... friends, at least before the quirk came in.  But even after Katsuki slapped his hand away, he still continued to try.  It wasn’t just because he believed in being a hero, but because Katsuki meant something to him.  He frowns, “Why do you bring this up again?”

“Because,” Katsuki pulls the man into a hug, cradling his face against his chest.  “No matter that I’ve apologized or that you’ve forgiven me…. I haven’t forgiven myself yet because I know this still hurts you,” he lifts Izuku’s chin to look into his eyes, “and it kills me that I could have prevented all the pain later on.”

“Kacchan, not this again,” he sighs.  How many times did they have to have this discussion?  All he wanted to do was think about the present and future.  Katsuki had made great strides in making up for the past and he just wanted the man to realize he’d forgiven him for it all.  They didn’t need to keep stirring it back up again.  “You’re not at fault for what happened after our fight.”

“Yes, I am.” He disregards Izuku’s words because despite being told differently, it didn’t feel like it was no longer an issue.  Katsuki sensed that Izuku was just trying to bury it away which wasn’t the right answer.  “I accept it, and all I can do is continue to make up for it.”  He places a kiss on Izuku's lips.  “Come on, there’s still a few more stops to make and the next one isn’t far.”

They walk to the next location which is near their old middle school campus.  Izuku’s confusion continues, it was just another street, one they would often use to get home after school.  Seeing the look on his boyfriends face, Katsuki chuckles and squeezes their conjoined hands, “this one stumps you?  I’m surprised considering it led to your biggest turning point as a hero.”  Katsuki stops them in front of an alleyway.  “Think about it nerd.  I know that brain of yours will remember.”

But just looking at the non-descript side road wasn’t immediately triggering any memories.  Izuku stares ahead, flipping through mental images in his mind of middle school.  His brows furrowed in concentration.  It does seem familiar somehow….  Turning point as a hero….  After several silent minutes.  “The sludge villain…” his voice wisps out.  

“Aye, the bravery that caught All Might’s attention and solidified my anger towards you.”  He sighs, “At first I was just angry because you were trying to help me again.  Then the hate kicked in when I found out All Might took you under his wing.”  Katsuki hangs his head, “Gah!  I was so jealous of you!  All my life working so hard to be like him and then here you come along with a similar power of that man out of thin air.  I waspissed trying to figure it out.  I even thought you’d been hiding your quirk from me all along, which made me even angrier….  At least that's what I told myself for years.”

“What do you mean?”

“I was jealous true, but I now realize I was angry because you may have been hiding it from me.  I treated you horribly and yet felt betrayed that would keep a quirk from me.  Deep down I also wanted you as my friend, maybe needed you as a friend but refused to admit it.  All those years of deluding myself…”

“But I do feel bad about that!  As soon as All Might made the offer, my first thoughts were I want to tell Kacchan, but he made me swear never to tell anyone.  All I ever really wanted was your approval and I thought if I finally had a quirk you would treat me better.” Izuku frowns, “but instead when you found out, you lashed out even more.”

Ouch.  A pang of spiritual pain shoots through Katsuki’s heart at the confession.  He knew it was true, but to be said aloud hurt.

“Even then I convinced myself, it wasn’t about the quirk.  Maybe I just needed to prove to you that I was worthy of your attention, so it drove me harder to train.”  

Katsuki’s eyes squeeze shut as the tears threaten to make an entrance.  “Which made me look at you even more as a rival.”  He pauses, then lets out an exhale.  “I was too blind to see that you were never a rival.”    

“Kacchan, please don’t be too hard on yourself.  It hurt, yes, but you helped me by pushing me to do better.  You’re the reason I got stronger.”  He almost wanted to snap about having such an emotional conversation in the middle of a public sidewalk.  They could have discussed all of this at home, what reason is it to go to the sites themselves if not to make the emotional toil more difficult.      

“But I shouldn’t have bullied you into it….”

Katsuki really seemed to want to drive these points home for him and frankly as much as he loved his boyfriend, he just wanted to move on.  But he knew getting angry wouldn’t help and so he bites back the frustration and lets out a long exhale to calm his adrenaline spike. “We can’t change the past.  We can only move forward.”

“I know, I know,” Katsuki sighs again, “and I’m trying.”

“I know you are…” Izuku pulls Katsuki’s face down to place a kiss.  “That’s all I ask for.”

“I really love you Deku.”

Izuku smiles, “I love you too, Kacchan.”

Katsuki looks at his watch.  “Oh! We need to get back to the train station.”

“Why?”

“Next is Nagano.”

Based on the trend of places they were visiting, there was only one reason Izuku could think of in Nagano, and that was the Beast’s Forest.  It was one of the worst moments in his life when he’d watched Katsuki being kidnapped and he was powerless to stop it.  ‘Because I’d been too weak…’ he groans in his head and leans back against the bench in the train.  He didn’t want Katsuki to see the turmoil brewing inside of him at revisiting this place, so he does his best to pretend to just look out the window.  

Seeing any of his friends hurt angered him, but when Katsuki disappeared into Mr. Compress’ marble, a part of him went with it.  They were like two sides of a coin and there just couldn’t be one without the other.  In fact, after their final fight, that’s why he just wasn’t the same Izuku anymore.  His partner was gone, and he was left alone… again.  Bless her heart but Uraraka tried her best to fill the void despite never knowing that’s what she was doing.  He cared about her and did his best to try and be a good husband, but it just wasn’t the same… it wasn’t love.

“We’re here.”

Izuku turns to look at Katsuki, then to the automated sign above the train doors.  Was he planning on taking them all the way into the forest, because that was still a distance away from the station?  It was already lunch time, but he followed along without questioning anything.  His boyfriend clearly had a plan of what he wanted to show him, and he knew none of this was easy on the man, so the least he could do was go along with it.  It surprises him when they end up at a café at the edge of town.

“Lunch,” the blonde answers as if reading his boyfriend's mind.

Oh good, because he was starving!  While Katsuki talks to the server to be seated, Izuku just takes in the area trying to put the negative thoughts aside.  It was a beautiful spot with an open-air patio.  For a sunny day like today, coupled with the light breeze funneling through, it was a pleasant place to be.  The server seats them near the railing where they would have the best view.  So, that’s what Katsuki was asking for.

Not only was the scenery nice, but the food at the café was delicious.  A spicy karaage chicken for Katsuki and a gyudon beef dish for Izuku.  They had apple manju for dessert, a local specialty according to the server and fresh matcha iced tea.  Just two guys in love on a date, it was wonderful.

“Do you recognize it?” Katsuki glances out over the landscape surrounding the town.  “It’s the edge of the Beast forest.”

“Oh…” there went the mood.

“I’m guessing you realize why I brought you here?”

“Yeah,” and he really didn’t want to go into it.

The blonde shifts from sitting across from his boyfriend to the chair next to the man and takes his hand.  “Did you ever wonder why I told you to stay back that day?”  Izuku shakes his hung head.  “You were already so banged up that when I saw you, it stopped my heart.  I couldn’t process those feelings, but it came out on instinct.  The league was there because of me.  Everyone, you, got hurt and the last thing I needed was any more pain inflicted on you because of me.”

Izuku continues to shake his head, “no, you're wrong!” he grits his teeth in a losing battle to hold back his anger.  “It wasn’t your fault!  None of that was your fault.  My injuries were because I couldn’t control my damn quirk back then.  If I’d been able to, the league wouldn’t have kidnapped you.  It’s my fault you got kidnapped, mine!”

Katsuki pulls his boyfriend into a bear hug.  “Stop it.  Idiot don’t take my failure onto yourself.  You always tried to protect me, but I’m the dumbass that never listened.  I resisted you time after time no matter how hard you tried, so that’s all on me.”

The smaller man goes silent for a time, processing everything being told to him, just allowing his boyfriend to hold him tight.  “You really meant…” he sniffles, “you did it to protect me?”

“I didn’t understand love back then, not even friendship.  I didn’t know that the weird feelings you would give me had a different meaning.  Now I do.” He runs his fingers through Izuku’s hair, soothing the man.  “My instincts to protect you always came from my heart Deku, even if I never showed it that way.”

Izuku hugs back, burying his face deeper into the taller man’s chest.  He’d always thought that the times Katsuki actually worked with him against a villain was purely for the sake of winning.  Even during the Nabu incident when they’d shared One for All, he didn’t think it was because he cared about him, just simply to beat the bad guy.  But now, after hearing all of this, maybe that had been the case after all.  “Thank you for telling me this, it makes me feel a lot better.”

“I’m sorry for bringing this all up,” Katsuki continues to soothe the man.  “And I know you keep saying you just want to move on, but I realized you needed to process your feelings once and for all to truly do so. Crazy, right, that I’m the one saying that?” He chuckles.  Izuku chuckles too.  “I’m gonna bring back your real smile Deku not this fake shit,” he lifts Izuku’s chin, “that’s a promise.  This is almost over, just one last stop and you’ll see it was all for a purpose.”

Izuku truly hoped so.  Katsuki may be right that he’s never let himself just process everything with a good crying session.  Ironic for the guy who would cry often while they were growing up.  But life had hardened him….  Guess that’s why his boyfriend was doing this now and he appreciated it.  It was nice to have that light bulb moment and know truly how much he was loved by Katsuki, that he would put himself back into these memories to help him heal.

By the time they arrived back in Shizuoka two hours later, Izuku was feeling a lot better.  “UA High School?” he questions.  It was a place they knew so well, with both good and bad memories.  Izuku even did a few stints as a guest teacher over the years, working with the up and coming students to foster the next generations of heroes.  It was a mission his younger self would have been happy to accomplish, but the fake smiles he’d have to sport always made him feel like a phony.

“Yup, it’s our last stop.”  It was mid-afternoon, but classes were still in session and the guards let them through without a problem.  As they walked through the campus, Izuku wondered what they were doing there?  Since it had barely changed in the last 20 years, it didn’t take him long to notice they were heading towards one of the training areas called Ground Beta.  Well, there was the answer.  The two men had fought twice here, once during training, and the second time when Katsuki had confronted him about One for All.

“You’re not looking for another match, are you?” Izuku jokingly teases his boyfriend.  “I’d rather not get detention again.”

Katsuki laughs, “stupid, of course not.  Bet I could still kick your ass though.”

“Maybe… or maybe not,” Izuku chuckles.  “But I’m always up for a sparring match, you know, out here, or in bed.”

“So, we can break the bed again?”  Katsuki wiggles his eyebrows.  “Cause that was fun.”

Damn it!  He could never win when it came to worded jabs.  Izuku’s ears burn and he feels the flush of his body at the memories of that night.  They’d both been tipsy to high heaven and lost control.  The repair bills for the singed walls and broken furniture were worth it though…  

“Hah!  You’re thinking about it!”

“Shut up,” Izuku turns away in embarrassment and changes the subject, “so what are we here for?”

“Twenty-five years ago, today we fought here the night I learned the truth about your quirk.”

“Wow, you remember the date?!”

He chuckles, “I had to do some digging and calculate it.”  But then Katsuki’s expression changes. “Do you remember what All Might tried to tell us after that fight?”  

Izuku shakes his head no.  Surprisingly he could remember a lot, but the moments after the fight he mainly remembers the pain Katsuki was in.  The blonde blamed himself for what happened to All Might and the symbol of peace assured him that wasn’t true.  He’d been surprised to see the blonde completely break down in tears, seeing it as such a rare event.    

“We each had what the other needed.  I thought the old man was crazy, but he was right.  We’re so different and yet every time we worked together; we were so much more capable than when apart.  I should have realized then that I needed you, and you needed me… well maybe more of I needed you.”

“That’s not true…” Izuku quietly interjects.  “We both needed each other, and you’re not the only one at fault for not realizing it sooner.  I’m just as guilty.”

Katsuki places his hands on his boyfriend's shoulders.  “No, I’m the only one to blame for wasting the last 20 years of our lives.  If I hadn’t been such a stubborn idiot, you would still have the bright smile you once wore, not this pained one.”  

“Kacchan, stop saying that you…”

He cuts him off.  “Let me finish, please.”  Izuku closes his mouth and Katsuki resumes.  “Did you know I hid in the back at your wedding to make sure you didn’t see me?  After our blowup, I refused to admit I’d been wrong, but deep down I knew it, and out of guilt I showed up to make sure you’d moved on and were happy.  When I saw you and bubble cheeks, I honestly thought you were cause you still smiled… not knowing you were just hiding the pain the whole time.”

As the memories flood back, Katsuki’s knees waver.  So many longing gazes and the sadness hidden behind a smile that didn’t shine like in their youth.  Izuku would sometimes wave and like a fool he’d turn his cheek to it.  He crouches down, sitting on his haunches, and holding his face in his hands.  “I should have seen it!  All the times we’d cross paths and you were still trying...  Ugh. I was such an idiot for not paying attention.”  He reaches up and takes Izuku’s hand, as one knee drops to the ground for balance.  “All that time you were waiting for me and I just didn’t see it.”

“Kacchan…”

“Marry me, Izuku!”  He pulls out a ring from his pocket and holds it up.  “Marry me, so I can spend the rest of our lives making up for it.”

Izuku’s eyes mist over as the corners crinkle into a wide-brimmed smile, “Seriously?  Of course, yes!” He drops to his knees as Katsuki slides the ring onto his finger.  Tears trickle down his cheeks, “You make me so happy Kacchan.”    

“Now there’s that smile I’ve been waiting for,” the blonde smiles and caresses Izuku’s cheek wiping away the freshly falling tears.  He sweeps in for a kiss.  “I’m gonna do everything I can to keep it there.”

Izuku returns the kiss, then sighs sweetly as their lips part.  “I know it’ll only get better now that I have my partner back.”

“Life partners,” Katsuki chuckles and sweeps his fiancé up into his arms, “you are gonna take my last name, right?”

[bigskydreaming]

Idk guys, could people maybe just try taking me at my word every now and again? I mean, what exactly is it that people think I get out of these posts?

Is it popularity? Do you think I make these posts to be popular? Because I took several months upon moving into Batfandom a year or two ago before actually making these kinds of posts more than once in a blue moon, and I was waaaaaaaaaaay more popular initially than I am now. I lost literal scores of followers once people realized this is a Thing for me, and could probably get most of them back if I just....stopped. Given the number of people who seem to follow and unfollow me regularly, as if just to see if I’m ‘done yet.’

So.....no, its not about popularity.

Is it about note counts? Do you think I make these posts to get notes, by being controversial, or with ‘the anti’s’? Because if you look through my archives you’d see that without variation, I consistently get FAR less notes on these posts that I do compared to like....literally ANY other content I post. When I write a Batfandom meta indepth, its rare for me not to get hundreds of notes on it. When I write a post like the last one examining survivor-related topics in depth, its rare for me to get up to even fifty notes. 

So......no, its not about note counts.

Is it about garnering sympathy/pity? I do rely on donation posts sometimes, and I might see gains there due to people having sympathy or pity for me that they’re afraid to tangibly express online due to the controversial nature of many of my posts, but that might show up there, right? Well, sure, except for the fact that....my sob story is in no way reliant on these more controversial posts to exist, and in fact would be a hell of a lot more compelling when it comes to attaining donations if I DIDN’T add in all these other posts that are blatantly alienating to a lot of the people who were like “you had me at abuse/incest/rape survivor who needs major surgery as an end result of his gay bashing way back in college but then you lost me when you said I am a literal rapist for reading and writing specific fics like wtf dude?”

So.....no, its not about garnering sympathy/pity or even donations.

Is it about just being interesting or standing out or getting attention? Do you think I make these posts like a broken record because I have nothing else to talk about? Because uh, I have my pet topics but I can literally write essays on pretty much ANYTHING and everything about Dick Grayson or Scott McCall or Bobby Drake or plenty of other characters. And again, like I mentioned above, consistently get WAY more attention and engagement from people on any of those. I don’t need even my survivor status to be interesting, thanks, and I don’t even actually care all that much about it at the end of the day, because anyone who’s followed me for any length of time knows I would be perfectly happy to talk for a week straight about my OCs or original content even, as long as I have even just one or two people engaging with it, lol. 

So....no, its not about being interesting or getting attention.

Is it about being a know-it-all, regarded as having certain expertise or being an authority on a certain topic? If so, that’d be a weird choice given how often I talk about how being a survivor is NOT a monolithic experience, and the fact that I center myself in my posts on the subject is not because I’m presuming I speak for everyone, but rather specifically to keep my views and experiences tailored specifically to ME and my own experiences entirely....the only viewpoint from which I AM qualified to speak with authority. I don’t post what I post the way I post to be viewed as the be-all and end-all of surivor views, and I don’t make it about myself and my experiences to wave my survivor credentials around and shut down opposition - if I did, it’d be blatantly ineffective given the amount of anon hate I get and derailing my posts experience, most of the time using information I’ve freely offered up in my own posts in an attempt to trigger or silence me. I post the way I post in these posts for one reason only, usually to my own detriment - I’m simply trying to humanize a topic that far too many people IMO deliberately try to view as abstract and hypothetical in order to distance themselves from the real issues. Not to mention like, I know a great deal about a lot of things? There aren’t many other former stuntmen or actors posting in this part of the internet that I’ve seen, I could focus on my own expertise there, or in any number of academic topics I’ve explored a lot just out of personal interest. Hell, I’ve been called a ‘Dick Grayson expert’ more than once, and could easily just focus on my knowledge and insight of his character, if I weren’t so often alienating half his fandom with these posts, right?

So.....no, its not about being a know-it-all or regarded as having certain expertise or being an authority on a certain topic.

So really, when it comes right down to it, there’s only two things it could possibly be, wouldn’t you agree? Either I’m speaking from a place of honesty as to very real reactions and views I have on this subject, born of my own experiences and knowledge.....or I’m just speaking out my ass from a place of wanting to feel morally superior about something.

But does it really make sense for it to be the latter? If I wanted a moral superiority hill to die on in order to feel good about myself or whatever, do you really think this is the only one I could come up with, or come back to this often? Given the number of ways it seems to shoot me in the foot in the process? Oh, I know I have a certain tone when I speak on this subject. I know I ooze the same ‘you sound so dumb right now’ tone I accuse others of when I approach stuff like this, but the thing is.....all of that ALWAYS traces back to like...me REACTING off of something, not just randomly up and deciding hey this is a good week to be hated by bringing up something I know damn well 90% of my followers would be happy to see me never bring up again.

And for a guy who clearly LIKES interacting and engagement on this platform as much as I do, does that make any sort of sense at all? Maybe every now and then, but as often as I do post about this stuff, for as long as I’ve been?

Or could it possibly just be like.....I’m telling the truth, and this shit is really, truly exhausting in a way that I, and any other survivor it exhausts, shouldn’t HAVE to put up with. Its not like I came out of the gate swinging, in fandom at large or even this fandom specifically. It took time to get me just....tired of it. The same bullshit, every day, every week, without fail. And again, it all mirrors the same shit I’ve been hearing from people my whole life, to avoid engaging with the ways they weren’t even complicit in my past traumas, but just....inconvenienced by it. People talk a good game about being there for us, believing us, supporting us, but in my experience, the second something beyond a simple acknowledgment of status is asked for, the second something someone would have to ACT UPON is asked for.....the switch flips.

And that shit. Is. Exhausting.

I don’t make noise on this subject because I in any way actionably or actually benefit from it. I don’t even make noise on it EXPECTING to, at this point. I make noise simply because.....the subject deserves noise, and I deserve to make it if I make that choice, and for too much of my life that just wasn’t a possibility. And all of this bullshit, as a result? Make no mistake, its just bullshit. I don’t ever call it me being bullied or victimized or harassed or martyred, because its none of those things and I don’t regard it as those things. (Well I occasionally refer to that TW anon as harassing, but that’s because their behavior is not just limited to me and very much fits every textbook definition of the word and needs to be regarded as such). But the rest of it? Like, I don’t have a martyr or victim complex because I don’t feel victimized by this shit, lmfao. It really is just exhausting and irritating. It makes me tired and annoyed. Not harmed. Even being genuinely triggered by shit, which happens more than I care to have it happen, is at the end of the day still just an unwanted echo of a shout that I heard years ago, and an echo is never going to hurt me the way that initial shout did or have the same impact. I’ll never quite get how people seem so convinced that their anon hate or triggering effect is going to accomplish what nothing before this actually did or be the TRULY demoralizing impact I can’t move past or whatever, as opposed to just being irritating and frustrating in its hypocrisy, but well. Guess people are projecting about feeling powerless in their own lives, lol, whoops.

But just....the hypocrisy of all this grates. And the only thing I’m really looking for out of it, if I’m even looking for anything at all, is just even a few people over the years saying something as simple as “i never really thought about it like this but I can see it now.” Is it really that hard to just listen to people? My ‘voice of moral superiority/condescension’ in these things comes from the fact that I AM listening, I HAVE been listening, and that’s why I know for a fact that the things being said in opposition are all things I’ve heard MANY MANY times before, and refuted or seen refuted each time. Can some of you say the same thing about yours? Especially when that tone only comes up in posts that repeatedly reaffirm that you’re not actually responding to anything I’ve actually said or written, but merely your own idea of what you THINK I’m saying, or else just a viewpoint you’re comfortable refuting, even if its not actually mine and at best tangential to my own? When you can find something insightful in so many of my posts about a character we both like, and understand even the most rambling of my essays about Dick Grayson just fine, can you truly and with confidence say the disconnect when it comes to hearing and understanding what I say in these posts is all mine? Are you sure it has NOTHING to do with anything you bring into your reading of these posts from a place of defensiveness or preconceptions of your own?

Just....think about it.

[dragon-zena]

all your troubles in my hair

Fandom: Mob Psycho 100

Relationship: Serizawa Katsuya/Reigen Arataka

Characters: Serizawa Katsuya, Reigen Arataka, Kageyama “Mob” Shigeo, Kageyama Ritsu, Kageyama Siblings’ Parents, Dimple

Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, reigen has horrible coping mechanisms: the fic, Spoilers for Chapter 100, OVA spoilers, Anxiety, Depression, Therapy

Summary: Neither of them are naïve enough to believe that love is meant to solve all of their internalized issues.

Read it on AO3!

Neither of them are naïve enough to believe that love is meant to solve all of their internalized issues.

They both have bad days; it's not something that really comes to a surprise to Katsuya, especially after months of being together.

Katsuya has days where he feels like he's been in a loop, a dream that he'll wake up from, still stuck in his childhood bedroom. Sometimes, he smells the trash, the dirty laundry. He sits up in bed, and there's nothing but white noise under his skin, roaring in his ears. Days where he wants to lock himself in the bathroom, hands shaking.

As time goes on, he has less and less of these days, but even still, sometimes he'll be riding the train with Arataka, towards an apartment that they share more often than not, and he'll look out of the window, admiring just how bright the moon is. And then he'll look at Arataka, leaning into his side with an old newspaper, and he'll watch those long eyelashes flutter as he skims each page, right to left, and there is a small flicker of fear within him—the thought that he might lose experiences like these, again, someday.

And while he's honest about his feelings, sometimes—ironically enough—he just wants to lock them up in a room and throw away the key. When the nights are harder to sleep through, nightmares chasing him into wakefulness, Katsuya almost feels frustrated, angry.

Arataka notices (he always notices), and Katsuya can't ever decide if he wants his boyfriend to ask about whether he wants to talk, or if he would rather be left alone. Whatever he chooses always feels like the wrong answer. He doesn't know if there is a right answer, not after days where he lies in bed feeling awful about a comment made with more snark than usual, or days where he can't make himself speak, at all, days where only the wrong things come out of his mouth. Arataka never takes it personally, but it fills Katsuya with inexplicable vitriol.

He's been working on all of it, having found a therapist that actually understands him after years of having to interact with therapists that he felt never gave a shit about him. He's started to categorize his days, coping by journaling his moods and triggers, what makes him feel this way. What makes him feel better, what feels safe for him. It helps.

Arataka doesn’t have a therapist, doesn’t think that he needs one. It’s something that used to bother Katsuya, the thought that maybe Arataka thought that only certain people needed a therapist—that maybe he thought he was too good for one. But the longer that he experiences loving him, the more he realizes that the man is doing his damnedest to just internalize his issues and move on as though they don't exist. Katsuya thinks that maybe Arataka feels as though if he ignores his problems, he’ll be more credible to the people that need his help. If he ignores his problems, he won’t take up space and resources from people that “deserve it” more than he does.

If he ignores his problems, he’ll still be useful to someone, his accomplishments won’t be stripped away by whatever makes him wake up in cold sweats, whatever makes his face twitch minutely out of its normal placid expression, gone so fast that a stranger might think that they imagined it.

Katsuya is no stranger.

He can see it whenever Arataka gets too caught up in his newspaper on the train home, the way that he tenses up when Katsuya stands to get off, expecting him to follow. The way that Arataka suddenly jumps at the movement, quickly snatching one of Katsuya’s sleeves with wide, faraway eyes. The way that he can’t seem to settle when he’s without something to read, nothing to keep his mind off of the rattling of the train, the screech of the vehicle coming to a stop, the train cabin being thrown into darkness as they pass through a tunnel or under a bridge. The way that he’s always the last person to board the train and the first person off. The way he refuses to fall asleep, even when Katsuya offers him his shoulder.

He sees it in the aftermath of Shigeo’s last explosion. The two of them had waited with Shigeo and Dimple until his parents came to get him. Ritsu had reached them first, of course, and was promptly pulled into a hug by his older brother. The two of them let themselves feel for a few minutes, and Dimple hadn’t been too keen on leaving the two of them alone for a while, settling himself on top of Shigeo’s head like a languid cat. He was looking a little worse for wear, himself, small and a paler green than what he was before he disappeared.

Once the Kageyama parents arrived, Arataka had pushed himself up from his haphazard crouch, using Katsuya as a crutch and biting the inside of his cheek to stifle any pained sounds he made. He smiled genuinely, eyes glassy, and conversed quietly and respectfully with Shigeo’s parents, holding their children so closely. Returned their gratitude for the opportunity to know Shigeo when they had thanked him for looking after their son. Dimple had given Katsuya a significant look over Shigeo’s head when Arataka’s voice cracked, and he had nodded, eyebrows knitting together. When Shigeo had pulled Arataka into a hug before leaving, the man looked prepared to cry, again, and when Katsuya had lifted his young friend into a bear hug, telling him that he was so glad that he was safe, that he had come to a conclusion that made him feel at peace with himself, Shigeo had nodded, clutching him tighter, but he, too, had subtly asked Katsuya to look over his shishou. And Katsuya had nodded again, ruffling his hair and watching as he walked away with his parents.

It left Katsuya and Arataka alone. Not that it mattered, because the moment that the Kageyama car disappeared, Arataka had collapsed to his knees, wheezing in pain. Eyes bleary, he managed a raspy “I can’t afford any hospital bills, right now” before passing out, eyes rolling back into his head. Katsuya only panicked a little, hurriedly bundling him up in his arms and beginning to make his way back from whence the two of them came. With Arataka unconscious, buried in Katsuya’s arms, he had been able to start digesting what happened once he had let the other man walk into Shigeo’s tornado. He thought about how dangerous (and brave, but mainly dangerous) the choice Arataka made was, how quickly he had lost sight of him in the cycle of dusty wind and debris. He thought about what Arataka had planned to leave behind.

The suit jacket. The dress shoes.

They never discuss it fully, not for lack of trying. It’s just, well.

Arataka throws himself into his work, deflecting “personal problems” when they’re working, invested strictly into his mask of professionalism, even when there are no clients. The first time Katsuya tried to push him into talking about his emotions, the man began to talk circles around him, so quickly and with so much anxious fervor that Katsuya ended up at a loss of words, mind swimming. It only occurred to him later that Arataka had told him practically nothing, and he tried not to get frustrated about it. Katsuya subtly asks him about getting help and acknowledging his feelings multiple times, but the only other time that he pressed Arataka led to an argument that lasted for at least a week before they apologized to each other, and by then, it seemed as though the man had developed at least five more different coping mechanisms, none of them even remotely helpful. His sleep schedule has become absolutely ridiculous, and sometimes Katsuya sees his hands twitch for the emergency cigarettes that he keeps in the bottom drawer of his desk. He never goes for it, but he lately seems stressed enough to cave more sooner than later.

Sometimes, Arataka just parks himself next to Katsuya, back straight. He’s not close enough to comfortably reach for, but he’s there.

Tonight is one of those nights. It's Friday, and Katsuya can count on his hands the number of hours of sleep that Arataka has gotten throughout the entire week. Not only that, but something must have been happening to make almost every client that entered Spirits & Such unnecessarily hostile. At some point earlier, his boyfriend had attempted to call Shigeo, ask him if he wanted to come with them for "ramen or something, it’s up to you, really, Mob," but Shigeo had already made other plans. Arataka said that he hadn’t minded, and he probably didn’t, committed to the concept of “not distorting” anyone else with his presence. Even still, his smile seemed a little tighter after hanging up, informing Katsuya that it would just be them, tonight.

Arataka sits stiffly on the other side of the couch, and Katsuya acts like he’s not watching him through his peripheral while working on his math homework. He doesn’t know when he’s going to use this. Remembering Arataka’s frequent complaints about math, he opens his mouth to tell this to him, hoping to make the silence a little less unbearable. But the sight before him makes him pause, words caught in his throat.

His boyfriend is crying silent tears, lips pursed, eyebrows furrowed, nose crinkled. He makes no move to wipe his face, and Katsuya doesn’t think that he notices that he’s been caught until he moves a little closer, making him jump, head swiveling to stare at Katsuya. They both grimace at each other, an understanding passing between them, despite Arataka’s clear embarrassment at being caught crying.

“Arataka,” Katsuya breathes out, scooting a little closer to his boyfriend and cupping his face into his hands, thumbs doing their best to wipe away tears that don’t appear to be stopping anytime soon. “What do you need?”

Arataka curls in on himself, averting his eyes away from Katsuya’s worried face. He sniffs as though trying to suck the tears and snot back up, and Katsuya tries not to wince, heart clenching.

Arms wrapped around himself, Arataka admits, voice quavering, “I think I need help.”

It’s quiet, small and brittle, but it’s there. Katsuya pulls his lover into his arms, presses his head gently into the junction of his shoulder and neck, kisses his temple sweetly. “I’ll help you,” he says. “We can help each other.”

Arataka says nothing, but he presses a little harder into Katsuya. It's not long before the man falls asleep, exhausted. Katsuya kisses the crown of his head, buries his nose into coarse brown strands.

Neither of them are naïve enough to believe that love will solve all of their internalized issues, but Katsuya watches Arataka sleep, and he thinks, warmth blooming in his chest, "Thank god we have each other." It doesn’t take long for him to follow Arataka’s lead.

[obsidiancreates]

Okay so I’m sine now, I want to stress that, and I only had issues for a few minutes way earlier today, but still want to say this:

PSA, guys. Even if whatever might trigger you into a bad mental space seems... ridiculous, or stupid, or like something you should just be able to work through and deal with, don’t... make yourself try to deal with it. Just move past it. Move on. Okay?

I hadn’t had any issues with suicidal ideation in a few months, and right now in life I’m pretty happy in general. I’ve got a wonderful girlfriend, I’m having fun playing with makeup, I’ve been doing better with my eating habits, things are pretty good. 

And then today I made the mistake of reading a fic I knew would probably not be very good for my mental health, because even though I love the writer’s style and admire them and think they’re an excellent writer and I want to support them, their fics always have this... very specific tone, and feel, and general vibe to them that, while an integral part of the style I admire so much, tends to... send me spiraling, a little. It’s very a very specific trigger, just this person’s writing, about one single fandom.

And. That seems stupid to me. So I keep trying to just... deal with it, and read the fics anyway, because I want to support them, and am very interested and allured.

And it always ends up bad for me. I always end up feeling either empty and hopeless and drained, or frustrated and angry and worked up. And I always end up thinking “Those characters should just kill themselves, to escape from all their shit, or to stick it to those other fucking characters, just get some damn peace, just kill themselves so they aren’t dealing with all of that shit anymore” which like, of course sends me into a bit of a state of thinking things I definitely shouldn’t, and it’s already bad you know it sent me into a state of basically romanticizing suicide. But those thoughts about the characters send me into a headspace like the ones I had in my worst moments of suicidal thoughts (I’ve never tried or done anything, thankfully, but I’ve had some... really bad mindsets about it before). Because it makes me feel hopeless, and like nothing will ever get better for those characters, and even if there’s this sliver of hope in the fic or a nice ending there’s just this melancholy feel because of the style that makes it seem like wasted, worthless hope, a fool’s dream, and it just- it’s not good for me.

So, even though it seems ridiculous, and petty, and stupid, and even though I genuinely want to enjoy the writing and want to support the person, I can’t. Because I need to know and then respect my limits, and my own triggers. I need to stop making myself go through this kind of stuff, ruining streaks of being fine.

I need to acknowledge that it’s legitimate, that just because it’s super specific and small that doesn’t make it stupid or something I should just ignore and try to get over.

So... yeah. This was both to drill this lesson into my own head, and to say: Respect your limits, respect your triggers, don’t make yourself go through shit if you can avoid it. 

[wisebrokenwallflower]

bangtan fic rec

I can be kind of particular when it comes to what I’ll read and I hold a special appreciation for well-written fics with good plot and dynamic characters. I’ve started to accumulate a fair number of fics in my bookmarks, so I think it’s time I start sharing some gems with whoever cares. I highly recommend all of these since I think they are all beautiful in their own unique ways, but I will list the ships. I know certain things can be triggering to some people, so please read the fic tags in case.

the italics are my thoughts, the normal text is the official summary, bolded fics are the ones that had significant impacts on me and or I feel discuss something really important

(this may or may not kind of be an open love letter to all the authors on here lol)

same damn hunger by marienadine [Yoonseok]

When it comes to fucking around with his best friend, Yoongi follows two rules:

1. They must be inebriated.

2. They must not kiss.

okay this fic is heartbreaking? it’s really smutty, but it’s also super poetic and angsty. it’s just really good, I’ve read it a ton of times : ))

Let’s Not Hurt Anymore by exfatamorgana [Namjin]

They don’t talk about it, and usually no one thinks to ask. But if you did, Namjoon and Seokjin would tell. They aren’t keeping secrets, and if you asked them, they’d answer. It just so happens that on a Sunday, not much different from any other Sunday, the other boys think to ask.

So how do two people who are always together end up… together?

two things: 1) this fic is part of a larger series, but I have not read the other parts 2) you do need an ao3 account to read this fic.

besides that, this fic is so beautiful and holds an extra special place in my heart. this fic isn’t really about Jin and Namjoon, it’s more about everything else surrounding their romantic relationship; their friendship, their internal struggles, the other impactful people in their lives. it’s about their personal journeys, but the fic is also a platform to discuss some really important issues in a very thoughtful way. I’m not sure how to explain it well, but even though this fic is really sad at times, the parts that made me cry were the hopeful ones, the parts that made me feel like everything was going to be okay.

I Don't Regret a Thing by  HeavenlyHell [Yoonseok]

Hoseok is a host working in a shadier part of town, living in a small apartment complex just away from the main and busy buzz of the big city. All he really was planning to do was get some gross food and continue his gross life, but he also manages to spot a very gross (and bloody, which is gross) body on the ground. Except, the body is alive, and upon closer inspection, isn't as gross as it seems.

this fic is actually kind of funny and cute. if you want something lighter (especially compared to the previous two) this is a good option. also I want Yoongi’s hair.

Creating a Home by CheekyBrunette [Namjin]

(I didn’t put an official summary for this one because it’s actually a series)

Foster Care AU- it’s literally the softest, cutest, sweetest thing you will ever read oh my god I love kid fics so much they’re so cute. this one actually deals with some heavy stuff since it’s the foster care system, and so there’s tough situations that put them in the system, but many of the kids also find new difficulties once they’re in the system. but seriously, nothing will make your heart suffer more than little kid bangtan. btw, Namjin are the parents. IT’S SO FLUFFY. like, even when Jin is losing his mind and it feels like shit is falling apart, it is immediately fluffy after.

On Patrol by  Ragi [Jikook/Yoonseok/Namjin]

Officer Jeon has his eyes on Mr. Adorable.

Officer Min has a strange neighbor he can't seem to keep out of his life.

Captain Kim finds comfort in his son's homeroom teacher.

Well, cops need some loving too, right?

that’s the summary for part 1, but it’s actually a two-part series. the summary makes it sound super fluffy, but there’s actually a fair amount of violence and angst. it’s all happy in the end though, don’t worry. (I basically only read fics with happy endings) also, kid Tae is so cuteee.

i've been drinking, i've been drinking by decompositionbooks [Jikook]

Jungkook tries to figure Jimin out with Yoongi's trademarked "What Your Drink Says About You" alcohol psychoanalysis.

All he knows is that Jimin likes fruity little drinks.

this one is really cute and a little sad. the best part of this fic for me was the fact that it really improved my knowledge of drinks lol

doubt thou the stars are fire by iwillalwaysbelieve [Jikook/Yoonseok]

Jeon Jeongguk's got a Reputation™. Park Jimin learns how to not give a shit about it. 

this one is really short but really cute : )

White Chalk by g_odalisque13 [Taegi]

Yoongi had been aware of the shadow for as long as he could remember.

Sometimes he went months without feeling like it was just a few steps behind him or waiting around the next corner. But no matter how long he was able to avoid it, it always came back. Always.

It's 1993, and Yoongi is a music major starting his sophomore year in college. A bunch of stupid dares from his friends aren't supposed to turn his world upside down. Then again, maybe it's not the dares. Maybe it's just Taehyung.

I don’t know how to effectively describe how much I love this fic, but I love this fic so damn much. it’s just so well written and funny and genuine and it’s really honest and nice and it makes me happy

tie the knot by jivenchys (bareJinerals) [Jikook]

Either stay married to an arrogantly conceited billionaire for one year and get a million dollars in return, or drown in his father’s debt with the risk of ending up on the streets. Signing the prenup suddenly seems harder than it looks.

mate let me tell you, this is the slowest fucking slowburn you will ever read in the history or slowburn. every other fic on this list is complete except for this one, but even though this one is still in progress, it’s so fucking good that it’s definitely worth the wait. I have not felt excitement equivalent to that when I saw that this fic was updated recently. even though it’s still in progress, this is one of my all time favorites

hey, you never walk alone by deuxoiseaux [Yoonseok]

"Are you stalking me, or something?" Hoseok demands, more than loud enough for his voice to carry to the roof of the two-story building overhead. "This is seriously the fourth time I've seen you today alone! What is your deal? Why are you always everywhere I go lately?"

The man in the red and blue suit peeks down at Hoseok from the rooftop ledge. "...I thought I was being stealthy," he answers, and Hoseok can hear the pout in his voice even with his face hidden behind that mask. It's kind of endearing, even if it's still annoying.

(or: the spiderman au nobody asked for but exists now, i guess)

this is so cute! it’s a really short fic, but I love the characterizations a lot : )

a sugar coated pill and a pick me up by whomstisthis [Namjin]

As Namjoon stood slightly removed from the scene, bemusedly watching the six-year-olds swarm around his cooler (which he had borrowed from his mom), he didn’t even notice that someone had sidled up next to him until he heard the tiny, but undoubtedly exasperated, huff.

He followed the sound, turning his head to the right. A guy was standing there, arms crossed, lips pursed. He let out another huff, louder this time, but only slightly.

Namjoon refused to acknowledge him. What the fuck was this guy’s deal? Was he really that bitter that his six-year-old just lost a soccer game for six-year-olds?

One more huff from the guy.

He was beginning to think this guy’s lips were just perpetually pursed and would simply never, ever unpurse themselves, when he, the guy, finally unpursed his lips to speak.

“I just think it’s pretty irresponsible to bring Gatorade to a soccer game for first graders,” he said, huffily, “No offense.”

(or: namjin are soccer dads who fall in luv)

kid!tae and kid!kook are friends and it’s really cute and also I love Jin and Joon’s banter. also, this is explicitly set in new york, which makes for an interesting cultural cross. (and completely unrelated, this fic taught me about Richard Siken, who is a heart wrenching poet)

Of Lace Panties and Accidental Magic by jonghyunslisterine [Jikook]

In which a meddlesome teenage witch makes a considerable mistake mixing her potions.

(Or; Jungkook can't lie, Jimin's not looking like himself, and everyone knows Jungkook's in love with Jimin - except Jimin.)

this one of the few cisgirl!bangtan fics that I like (even though Jimin’s not technically a girl). often the whole “bangtan as girls au” thing feels kind of forced, but here Jimin’s gender thing is actually constructive to the fic rather than distracting. it’s really cute and jikook are a whole mess but it’s fine

hounds of love by fitzgarbage [Namjin]

Seokjin hasn't been back in a long time.

it’s kind of melancholy but it’s really well written. the last tag is “some characters are sad”. yeah. a large part of this fic is about growth and self discovery and I think that’s really why I like it.

girls just want to have fun by fitzgarbage [Yoonseok/Vmin/Namjin/Jinkook]

“Namjoon told me you’d probably be haunting a corner. I didn’t know what he meant, but I think I get it now.” He’s breathing hard. “I knew you right away. You look really good, by the way.”

transgender, intersex, and nb characters. I have a lot of things to say about this fic but my brain isn’t really working right now so I may end up having to make a separate post. I just have a lot of things to say about this fic. there are some fics that aren’t just enjoyable to read, they’re also important to read. that’s this. fair warning, you’re going to want to wrap everyone in blankets and protect them from the world forever after you’re done reading this.

Internecine by jawsbar (GryfoTheGreat) [Yoonseok]

Everyone gets a soulmate. You don't get a choice in the matter. Fate decides who you love, whether you like it or not, and to her credit, she usually gets it right.

This time, Fate fucks up. Like, majorly.

(Or: Failed idol Jung Hoseok is bonded to the very person who destroyed his dream.)

HOLY SHIT. SO FUCKING GOOD. READ THIS. JUST DO IT. I DON’T CARE IF IT TAKES YOU A WEEK. JUST DO IT. there’s a lot of real issues within the industry that the author talks about and it’s things that you might already know about and things that you may not know about. it’s really informative and beautiful and amazing and just go read it. (also the author is a sweetheart, super nice person : ))

harvest moon, recall your youth by blackranger (robpatFF)[Taegi/Namseok/Jikookjin]

“How drunk was I?” Yoongi asks. “Did I seriously tell you my whole life story before we hooked up?”

“No,” Taehyung giggles. “Silly Min Yoongi. You told me your life story before we got married. Then we fucked. Like a honeymoon, you know?”

Or, Yoongi and Taehyung get drunk married in Las Vegas.

the taegi is really sweet and the namseok is nice too

the waiting game by bonnia [Jikook]

It’s a waiting game. Jimin knows that Jungkook doesn’t have to come back, but with every little touch, every time Jungkook does, and every time Jungkook lies down right next to him, pressed up close, torturously warm and smelling like cigarette smoke and cologne, Jimin can’t help but feel like he could — would — wait years just for Jungkook to come back to him again.

(Or: In which Jimin is a prostitute and Jungkook is his favourite customer.)

it’s really sad and then it’s really sweet. Kookie is a sweetheart and Jimin needs a hug

boy, you got my heartbeat runnin' away by 777335

Summer before his third year, Hoseok says he wants to move out of the dorms and Yoongi replies easily, “My lease is almost up, wanna get a place together?”

Hoseok can’t speak for a second, just wants.

“Seok?” Yoongi says, pushing his glasses up with the heel of his hand, tongue poking into his cheek nervously. “We don’t— we don’t have to, never mind.”

“No,” Hoseok says, taking the half step to their table, sliding Yoongi’s beer toward him, settling on his stool with his caipirinha. He chews on the straw. “No, no,” he can feel the smile breaking across his face, “that sounds great, that sounds really nice. Holy shit, yeah, let’s do it.”

“Yeah?” A shy smile touches the corners of Yoongi’s mouth. “Yeah? Okay. We could get a couch for Holly.”

//

or hoseok and yoongi meet on the internet, become friends, both end up in seoul, become better friends, move in together, and then eat some pancakes. oh, also they make out.

it’s really cute! they’re so sweet and they actually communicate and it’s nice and they kind of remind me of my relationship with someone very close to me ; )

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I have some more recs, but I wanted to post these so that this didn’t sit in my drafts forever lol. happy reading! dm me if you love any of these a lot and we can gush together : )))

[digiauthorenergize]

This is a stress rant post. There are a myriad of sister updates that I’m sure people don’t care about but it’s fun gossip so I’ll put them under the cut. The sister updates will be followed by and interspersed with a bunch of personal ramblings that I was going to put in the tags but instead I decided to put all the positive stuff in the tags because no one should need to dig through this negative post to find the positive stuff going on. 

Do people trigger warning their rant posts outside of the tags? Is that a thing? I’m going to do it. TWs for my sister and her husband continuing to be garbage and Anxiety and like, old psudo-anorexia habits I had but idk it’s fine. 

So she had her baby! yay! he’s cute and good and healthy and it’s been a few months (like 4?).  We had a bonding moment a few hours before she gave birth, her husband (he’s still a huge ass more on that later) was asleep on the couch and I was sitting with her on her bed watching some absolutely garbage show and she said she was sorry. And it was genuine and soft and the stuff of hurt/comfort fics cause she was like ‘I shouldn’t have yelled at you and I shouldn’t have moved out like that. You were right and I’m sorry.’ and I just rubbed her head a little and said something that essentially meant ‘I’m still working through it, but we’re cool’.  And I thought for real we were good! That like, we were going to start having a normal relationship again and stuff! And then everything got exposed. 

First she had to get over her ppd (which is a very good thing but also allowed all the exposure that’s following all this) with required a lot of help and support from our mom who’s too good for her honestly. Literally our mom is too good for her. It’s so frustrating because on the one hand she needs the help and I get that, she’s always needed the help and all the attention and I get it. I do. but it doesn’t change any of the bs she’s been and continues to put our mom through. Mom’s paying for everything for the baby: diapers, formula (she’s not breast feeding for reasons that are further down and it makes me want to scream), clothing, all of it. She was coming over every day mom was off work for a while. She still comes over a lot, but it’s not just cause she likes the help. My mom is doing everything she can for my sister and called me last nigh saying she feels like a failure as a parent and it’s not fair because mom did a great job with the two of us honestly and just cause my sister can’t make a good decision to save her soul shouldn’t be a reflection on my mom. I’m functional (mom said she thinks I’m smarter than she is and that’s something my ego does not need to hear right now cause lemme tell you what I know I’m being judgy from this pedestal atop of which I sit). I look at all my options and make decisions carefully. I watch my funds like a hawk because I’m a grown ass adult and I don’t want to have to ask my parents for help (I’ve managed not to use any of my severance package from getting laid off in April <<did I ever mention that here? I got laid off in April so I stepped up at my second job so I wouldn’t be without healthcare and stuff. Also also internalizing that ‘I’m the good daughter’ mantra is NOT GOOD STOP IT.>>  and a huge part of that is my fiance being able to handle the utilities so I can focus on my own bills (my part of the rent, groceries, phone/car/etc). Just cause one of us is a hot mess doesn’t mean she did anything wrong as a parent! She did a great job! Or we’d both be messes! But I super digress. 

((Mom and I also had a talk about whether or not she should report the whole situation detailed below this line to CPS, and my opinion was ‘technically you should be talking to a professional about this not your daughter, but yes’ and she said she was going to talk to one of the social workers at work about it so))

My sister’s husband is using opioids. again. He hasn’t done any of the parole stuff he was supposed to do after he got caught with them the first time (re: my other long ass personal posts cause I don’t know how to keep rant shit and fandom shit away from each other) and he had 3 years to do them, so his FEDERAL DRUG POSSESSION CHARGE is going to go on his RECORD. **insert all of the frustrate at the stupidity of it all facepalms here like, i can’t even** Apparently they haven’t paid their rent in months and so they got an eviction notice over the long weekend, they’re like over 10k in credit card debt (and it’s all in her name I’m sure cause she had good credit before she married this dumbass), and APPARENTLY last winter they were so far behind on their electric bill after heating their apartment with the OVEN because their heater was broken (and they couldn’t tell their landlord because they were already behind on their rent) the company made them pay the bill in CASH. like. what the fuck??? We found all this out from his mom (who’s very nice but also very nosy) over the last holiday weekend where my mom took the baby for a few nights so that my sister could go see some fireworks (and you know, have some fun) but ended up keeping him for a week and his mom had had the baby for the week before the holiday. like! what! and apparently she’s been smoking weed again which is why she wasn’t breastfeeding which, good, but also like. Logically I get it: she’s depressed? she smokes weed. We have a family history of addictive tendencies but whatever I get it, it’s her thing and whatever. but also!!! what!!! the hell!!! 

oof. 

And then on top of all that, I’ve been trying to Logic my way through my anxiety like I usually do but it’s just...not working this time. My usual method is to take whatever the feeling I’m feeling is, identify it, acknowledge it, figure out exactly where the root of that feeling in this situation is and deal with that. But half of this is wading through my sisters bs and there are only so many times you can say “you’re feeling this way in part because you feel like you’re morally/intellectually superior to your sister in a way that’s not great (tm) (but the data supports this response and then it’s off on a tangent)” and “through past experiences you’ve chosen not to address your emotional response, instead focusing on finding solutions and therefore are under equipped to deal with all these feelings (tm) and as you continue to try to suppress them so you can put on a retail face and ‘function’, they keep coming out as barely controlled bursts of chaotic energy that you usually channel into writing projects but as the bursts grow more unpredictable you’re anxiety is popping up to remind you of the unhealthy coping mechanisms we developed last time this happened but those don’t actually work the way you thought they did”. And then my anxiety comes in and says “yeah they do” and god if only they did work the way I tricked myself into thinking they did cause I could go back to only drinking my calories and eating a real meal once a day if that (for like family dinner or whatever) and with the way my schedule currently is I could and it would be so easy to just starve my anxiety again for like 10-12lbs but that’s when you start being able to really see my ribs and that’s not great fam and I’m not going to go down that road again we’re riding it out this time damn it. 

I’ve gotten to the point where I’ve made 2 new music playlists. One I use to calm down when my anxiety spikes, it’s got low-fi remixes and different grounding techniques and is super chill. The other is literally ‘ok, so you wanna have this anxiety attack? We’re Gonna Go??’ and it’s all stressful music. I’ve gotten to the point where I can crest and regroup in 12 minutes, and if I time the playlist correctly I can do the whole thing in the shower while I’m getting ready for the day so when I’m done I just have to get dressed and go. Which is also not great but whatever fucking works I guess?

Also big ass unrelated side note: I’ve come to the realization that I’m Ace, but not sex-repulsed, which was a thing I had to tell my fiance and he kinda gets it? But not really? Cause that’s really important to him and his sense of self-worth which is a whole other thing we’ll probably end up in couples therapy for, but we’re both willing to do that so. 

As soon as everything else settles down we’ll get to that. Which is what I’ve been telling myself about my emotions for years. As soon as this settles down I’ll try therapy again. As soon as I have health insurance that will actually make it affordable. As soon as I get settled. As soon as I have time (and then I over book myself). As soon as as soon as as soon as. 

I’m so annoyed with myself. But it’ll be fine.  Sunshine comes after some rain and you need some rain to grow.  

[master-sass-blast]

Aaaaand one more Q for the evening because I need to retire - if there are any thoughts or tidbits about Hyde/Katuna or Hannah/Luis or Dakota/Frank or Hadassah/Frank or Piotr/Reader that are currently floating your boat, I would love to hear them, if you’re so inclined!! Pls and thank you muchly!

I HAVE SOMETHING FOR ALL OF THEM, OML.

Going under a cut again bc I’m expecting this to get long. Trigger warning for discussion about suicide/self harm.

Hannah/Luis: (This is the one with the trigger warning, FYI.) Okay, so I’ve been thinking about the first time they get into bed together, and I think the set up will look something like this:

They go out to dinner together (on a date, because they’re already romantically involved at this point), and Luis picks up on that Hannah’s not herself; she admits that she’s been in a depressive episode as of late, but says she’s fine with staying out when he offers to take her back to her apartment because: A.) her therapist says she needs to not work on isolating herself, B.) if she’s going to be out, she’d rather be with Luis because he makes her happy, C.) she genuinely enjoys listening to him tell stories.

When they’re back at the car (post-dinner), Luis asks if Hannah’s depression ever makes her feel like hurting or killing herself (bc he’s worried about her, not bc he’s nosy). She says yes, admits that why she wears long sleeves all the time, then starts to roll up her sleeves to show him her scars. He stops her and says she doesn’t have to; she smiles and says she’s okay with it.

Luis kisses her scars. Just saying.

Luis drops her off at her apartment building, and is about to head back to his place when he spies a flower shop.

He gets her some daffodils, then asks to be buzzed in and tells her he “has something for her.” Hannah buzzes him in, he heads up, and gives her the daffodils when she opens the door, citing “yellow is a happy color and might help perk you up” (along with an entire ramble about how it’s okay if she doesn’t perk up, because different things work for different people, and everyone’s brains are different which is so cool, but that he thought of her when he saw the flowers and thought she might like them).

Hannah cuts him off with a kiss on the cheek, says he’s sweet, and invites him in for a cup of tea. They drink tea and talk, then Hannah winds up kissing him while crawling into his lap, and then I think you can see where it goes from there.

Hadassah/Frank: Okay, these two are my angsty couple. They’ve both gone through a ton of shit, they’re both kind of broken inside, and UNGH the angst comes so easily with them. Case in point:

I was working on developing the growth of their relationship, trying to figure out how they wind up having feelings for each other, and it occurred to me that they’d probably fight a lot.

Aside from being stubborn jackasses, Hadassah and Frank both have very different points of view on life, despite being very similar in a lot of ways.

Case in point: Frank burned down his family’s home and everything left in it at the end of DD S2. Hadassah basically sees this as insanity and an act of cowardice, partially because she thinks Frank is running from his own self-perceived failures, and also because having grown up Jewish, she knows all too well that you don’t just destroy things that belonged to people and constitute part of their memories, no matter how painful it is to look at any of it.

They wind up having an ugly fight about it because neither of them can see eye to eye --and also because Hadassah is very willing to get downright nasty about things when she thinks she’s right.

They also fight about when it’s acceptable to kill people. They both think that some people have to be taken out, but Hadassah’s also willing to put down arguable innocents to “keep their six clear” or women and children (think the “Black Sky” and Hand fighters from Daredevil) because an enemy is an enemy is an enemy.

She also thinks that Frank’s “metric” is just his way of trying to absolve himself from his own past with his unit, because black and white seldom truly exists with villains. There’s always family, or a kid that joined a gang to try and make ends meet, and at the end of it, Frank’s probably killing as many “innocents” as she does.

That’s another nasty fight where they wind up not speaking to each other for a bit (which is awkward, considering they’re both staying in the same place).

They do learn how handle each other, eventually. Frank concedes that Hadassah’s tactics keep them safer than his do, and Hadassah acknowledges that you can’t keep an entire trove of stuff when you’re on the run, especially since it makes you easier to identify if someone breaks into your place.

Dakota/Frank: Okay, fun fact: the sex-related dreams Frank has about Dakota act as the story’s tell for how he views her, and how those views are changing. Let me explain:

This idea came from the fact that I have lots of weird (sometimes sexual) dreams because of my meds. I figured since Frank’s been shot in the head and knocked around a bit, he’d be a good candidate for weird dreams, too.

Case in point, the first sex dream he has of her is after watching a match and interview with the rest of Curtis’s group. She plays the cocky brat for TV, and his dream about her is him basically fucking her into the mat and dominating her because her arrogance/behavior annoys him.

As he gets to know her better and realizes that her tics are for the cameras and act as armor, the sex dreams he (rarely) has about her morph away from hardcore, domination focused stuff and towards more equal, love making stuff.

I don’t know how to end this, bc that’s basically the whole thought.

LLAMAS.

Katuna and Hyde: Ah, my sweet babies. My sweet, sweet dorks.

Katuna and Hyde get married at the end of their story. It’s a small ceremony, just with friends and family, but they’re okay with that.

Katuna’s daughter (who is a master seamstress) makes her wedding dress.

Not wedding related, but Katuna and Hyde snuggle a lot. Katuna’s favorite move is to lay her head in Hyde’s lap and have him play with her hair.

They also do a lot of napping together. It starts with them just sleeping on their sides of the bed (before they’re an extremely close couple), but eventually Katuna just takes to nestling right up next to Hyde.

Piotr/Reader: Okay, not exactly what you asked for, but I wanna talk about some things I have planned for the CHC:

Four AU specials for when we hit the end of the series! There’ll be a Zombie Apocalypse one, a loosely based on Beauty and Beast one, a 3+1 (or however many I decide on) Soulmate one, and a Coffee Shop one!

We’re gonna do an Infinity War fic that’s basically gonna be nothing but highlighting powerful woman, and I for one am Pumped about it.

Children of the Gods. OKAY, this miniseries is my BABY for the CHC. I have been working on and perfecting this arc for almost a year. It’ll be a four parter, brings in Karen Page and Frank Castle, Greek mythology, Alexandra’s assassin past and Mafia connections, and UGH. It’s gonna be so good, guys, you have NO idea.

Two kidnapping fics that directly impact the Reader, one of which will be the closest I’ll get to writing horror.

The Wedding/Engagement minseries, which we are V Close to.

At least two more smut fics.

Yeah, lots of exciting stuff! Obvs, I didn’t go into too much detail because this post would literally be a mile long, and also because I do want there to be some surprises, but if you want to know more feel free to ask!