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can we please talk about how fucked up it is to tell someone "stop complaining" when they're clearly having a hard time and need someone to just listen.

no, cause you really should have an idea of how damaging it is, my parents told me that all my life whenever i would be exhausted, angry, sad or just frustrated and want to talk about what's been going wrong, never asked them to give me any solution but please please just listen for once.

it has fucked me in the head, i can't even think about sharing my problem or concerns without feeling guilty that m just complaining and i should be "positive", i can't stop thinking how annoying it must be for the person listening to me, i can't stop thinking that the person must be judging me for being so "pessimistic", can't stop thinking that m just taking their time and wasting it, can't stop thinking that m probably draining them to no end.

it's so fucking hard, i would be having a hard time breathing and just going about everyday but i still can't think about telling someone without thinking if m just complaining, being ungrateful and shit.

ℍ𝕆𝕎 𝕃𝕆ℕ𝔾 (𝟙/𝟛)

♱ Parings : Pro hero! Bakugou Katsuki x fem! reader (They are 24)

♱ Tags : Reader cries alot and is lonely, Katsuki is an asshole in this part (sorry guys, I've been craving angst and fluff), mentions of mental wellbeing, mentions of toxic relationship, yelling, screaming, humiliation and anger.

All written in bold italics is a flashback.

♱ Synopsis : Realizing how much she had been neglecting herself for the man she loves and is married to, (Y/N) leaves him with the promise to come back once she rediscover herself once more. How long would it take for him to break and her to heal? Would it be enough to salvage their marriage?

♱ Warnings : This would be an 18+ story going ahead, so minors. Stay the fuck out.

For the first part there is nothing much to add.

♱ Saint says : It's finally here !! Haven't written bakugou in so long, that I finally did!!

♱ Status : It’s unedited. If there are mistakes while I’m re reading it, I’ll correct it :)

♱ Word count : 4.5k words.

Tag list for this series is open. If you want to be added, feel free to comment below . Please make sure you have your age in your bio or somewhere I can see it (including dms or I won’t hesitate to block you.

Do not copy, recreate, translate or edit my works.

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‘In sickness and in health.’

‘To have and to hold.’

‘To cherish and to love.’

‘Till death do us part.’

“Marriages were matches made in heaven” was a household statement you grew up with.

‘Where did we go wrong?’.

It hadn’t been long since Katsuki and you had decided to tie the knot, but with the way things were going on lately, it sure seems like the bond of matrimony had been dragged out long enough for the both of you to not stay in the same room, let alone stand the sight of each of each other without another argument breaking out.

“Why don’t you fucking go take a vacation by yourself?! Why do I have to be dragged along?” Katsuki yelled from the couch as you scrolled through a list of hotel rooms. “Japan isn’t going to collapse if you’re away for a few days, Katsuki. Heroes would be on a watch like they always have and the country along with its cities would be safe. Besides, it would be a good break for us-” you tried to reason, only to be met with a harsh glare that signaled there was no room for discussion. “What does a school teacher know about a hero? All you do is take care of snot nosed brats who do nothing but run around and play all day.” Katsuki muttered under his breath before turning to leave you in the middle of the room, whilst you clutched your laptop to your chest. His voice was low enough to convince himself that you didn’t hear him, but you did.

Arguments were not new with Katsuki. At first glance, he was loud and brash which women did not usually desire in a man. Patience was key when it came to dealing with him, and overtime, loving him became as easy as breathing.

“I told you to not leave your gauntlets on the floor Katsuki! Look!” you said, lifting the heavy object off the ground, frowning when another scotch mark was added to several. “Would you calm the fuck down? I just got home after a long day of catching some goddamn villain. I don’t have the time or energy to deal with you or your whiny ass.” he retorted venomously, kicking his shoes to the side in anger while throwing his gloves on the rack beside the entrance of your shared home. With a heavy breath through his mouth, he walked past you, not bothering to fix the mess he had made. Hearing footsteps disappear behind you, you felt a tear roll down your cheek, turning towards his messily scattered boots and gloves.

‘He might need them tomorrow’ you told yourself as you bent to pick up the shoes he threw in anger and kept them in their rightful place towards the right shelf that had been specifically designed for them. Picking up his gauntlets and placing them to the side, you stared at the sunken scorch mark into the wood, wishing it would disappear. Instead, it remained there as a memory of the time you didn’t matter to Katsuki.

“Why did you come to the agency? I told you I had a conference and you walked right in the middle of that.” Katsuki said angrily, running a hand through his hair while the other rested on his hip. “I told you I’m sorry. I just came by to drop your lunch-” you said, clenching your fists by your side. “Your lunch just caused a fucking embarassment (Y/N). Don’t you know how long I have dreamt of building this agency?” he asked in a dark voice. Hot tears threatened to spill from the corner of your eyes as you stood before the tall blonde man. You heard a sigh of disappointment from his mouth before he spoke again. “No answer huh… says alot about ‘my wife’. Go home. You’ve embarrassed me enough today.” Katsuki said, closing the glass door of the office behind him, leaving you in the empty hallway. With a turn of your heel, you made a beeline for the bathroom, closing the stall door behind you, you clutched your hair in despair and stared at the tiles beneath you while your back rested against the door, watching as each teardrop left its mark on the tile. “Did you hear about what happened in the conference room today?” one of the women whispered as she leaned over the sink, re-applying her lipstick. “Ahh… are we talking about our hot boss?” another asked with a smug tone. “More like his wife.” the woman responded. “Apparently, she wanted to drop off his lunch. I swear that woman just wants to keep that man to herself.” she said with the roll of her eyes, flicking the tap to wash her hands. “Are you jealous of Aya-chan?” the woman replied with a laugh. “I won’t deny that our boss is hot Miko. But why choose a nobody when you can have uravity?” she said, closing the tap. “Now that you mention it, Uravity is single and she seems to be a good person in the public’s eye. Our boss certainly deserves a woman of her title.” Miko said with a giggle. Clenching your jaw, you held back your sniffles, hurt by the words they exchanged with each other, not knowing you were there to hear them. You could feel your heart ache with each pulse and your hand shake with each breath, desperate to unlock the door and leave the suffocating stall. With a violent swing of the door, you faced yourself in the mirror, feeling pathetic at the sight of your puffy and bloodshot eyes staring back at you. ‘Maybe he does deserve better.’

You didn’t dare to step foot into Katsuki’s work space again.

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“It’s like I've run out of solutions for this marriage mom.” you said sobbing into the phone while playing with stray pieces of fuzz that came out of the blanket. “Have you tried talking to Katsuki?” asked her tender voice.

“Maybe we should consider counseling?” you said, tapping the wood of the dining table as the two of you sat for dinner. With the clattering of chopsticks against the lacquered surface, you watched from the corner of your eye as Katsuki clenched and unclenched his fist over the table. “(Y/N).” came his grave voice. Never had you thought your own name could be used against you as a warning before deciding to tread dangerous waters. “If it’s with us, we’ll handle it. I already have the agency and a PR on my ass about getting my “anger issues” under control. The last thing I fucking need is my wife crawling up my ass about how I’m supposed to be a good husband.” Katsuki said in a tone that left no room for discussion.

And as always, your only answer was “Okay.”

“Counseling is the last thing he needs right now mom. He gets enough of a burden from the agency as is along with the duty of being a good samaritan and hero. The thing of least concern should be me.” You said softly into the phone.

“It takes two to tango in a marriage (Y/N). You were the one who walked down the aisle that day. And waiting at the altar was Katsuki. You are one of his priorities and you should speak about it. There have been countless times where your father and I have had our arguments and fights. Brushing it under the carpet would do no good. Talking about it would help. I know Katsuki can be brash, but I know I saw something in him when you came home holding his hand. And if it weren’t for that, I wouldn’t even accept him as my son-in-law in the first place.”

You felt your chest heave with a hitched breath at the mention of “son-in-law”. Memories began to play like an old disc, rewinding back to the day you had taken Katsuki to your house for the first time. It was nerve racking to say the least, given the brash attitude he had which caused older adults to scrunch their nose in disgust, but you knew better than to judge from the surface.

“Are you nervous Katsuki?” you asked, as he maneuvered his car around the corner of your neighborhood. He said nothing, eyes trained on the house that was at the end of the street. Killing the engine as he pulled close, he rested his head against the wheel, back hunched over. Breaths hitting the leather of the steering wheel, you reached your hand behind his back, rubbing it in slow patterns. Nuzzling his forehead further into his hands which clutched the steering wheel tightly, he clenched his jaw with a heavy breath through his nose.

“Baby…” you cooed to him. With the turn of his head, you watched as his eyes were swimming in a sea of self doubt. With the couple of years you spent knowing Katsuki, you knew how to read him at the back of your hand. It was only when there was a potential obstacle in your relationship did he become like this.

“Talk to me.” you said softly, reaching a hand out to his that laid pale on the steering wheel from clenching too hard. With a sigh, he intertwined his hand in yours, letting it rest on his thigh.

“I’ve never done this before. ‘S my first time… Don’t wanna disappoint your parents with me.” he muttered, squeezing your hand lightly. Returning a squeeze back, you rubbed your thumb against the taut skin on the back of his palm.

“Katsuki.” you called out to him in the most gentle voice possible. With the turn of his head, he watched you, eyes shifting from the way your hair to your eyes to the bridge of your nose to the curve of your lips. “My parents will adore you. Sure, you have your rough edges, but… I know you. I’ve seen you work hard day and night, seen the way you’re passionate about doing what you do and keeping on that path you dreamt of as a kid… being you is not easy, Katsuki.”

His eyes widened at your words. Never would he have imagined you to be watching him so close and thinking of his dream as a kid to be a stupid one, taking a completely different path as an adult. Moving his head towards the steering wheel, he reached out his free hand to your face, bringing it close to his. Eyes darting towards your lips, he leaned in for a soft kiss. Unlike other times, where he was eager to show you how much he cared, you could feel how soft and tender it was. Pulling away, you kissed his upper lips before holding both sides of his face in determination. “Ready to go?” you asked with a wide smile. “Let’s fucking go.” he said with a grin just as bright.

“(Y/N)?” your mother’s voice came from the phone you held to your ear. Clearing your throat from the choke up you had from replaying the memory you answered. “I’m here.”

You heard a sigh before your mother continued to speak. “Have you tried talking to anyone about it?” your mother asked in an exasperated voice.

“Oh my god. That villain you caught last week was a rather notorious one. Isn’t that right Arata?” Momo said as she slid her arm around his, her free hand holding her drink. “Heard he broke into a bank last week and had the balls for even taking over thirty hostages too.” Arata replied in a monotone voice, guiding his hand towards Momo’s hip. “Dear! Such crude language!” she shrieked, giving a playful slap to the shoulder while he chuckled.

“Pinky! I heard you had taken down another villain this week who targeted a kindergarten?” one of the reporters asked Mina. “It is important to take care of the little ones who look up to us. The operation wasn’t an easy one as children are easy targets due to them being harmless, but luckily we pulled it through thanks to the cooperation of teachers as well as other heroes.” Mina said, turning towards the cameras that were a sea of flashing lights, eager to captivate the hero who was climbing up the ranks. “Red Riot! It’s good to have you back at the agency!” one of the stocky looking men said, extending his hand forward for the pro hero to shake. “Pleasure is all mine, sir.” Kirishima responded quietly, setting his glass of whiskey down to shake the said man’s hand. You could remember standing awkwardly at the table as pro heroes talked about the work they did. Hardly a conversation for a school teacher to have. While everyone talked about busted drug deals, cartels, lawsuits and cases, you realized that they were a part of a much bigger but different world. Yours seemed to be smaller which had your family, kids studying in school, parents who would attend your conferences to discuss their child’s progress. It was easy to adapt a conversation but it was never easy to maintain it. But yet you continued to understand incident after incident as Katsuki and you stood together, each with a drink in one hand, laughing when the moment was right and humming when someone would pause at their sentence.

“So… (Y/N) tell us what’s been going on with you?” Jirou said as she leaned over the bar table. Fidgeting with the glass in your hand, you spoke. “Nothing much really… been teaching the children at school about Romeo and Juliet.”

A round of awkward looks were exchanged. Eyebrows raised at the drink in each hand with a thought before taking a sip, not knowing how to respond or what to say. “Well… that was tragic.” Kaminari tried attempting to joke before being elbowed in the ribs by Kyoka who thought it was offensive. The pro hero world didn’t have time for Shakespeare. With an awkward smile you bit your inner cheek, making a silent rule that silence during parties like these was golden.

“(Y/N)?” Your mother asked once more, disturbing your train of thought. With a deep sigh through your nose, you gripped the phone tighter before answering.

“All my friends have their own families Mom. And most of Katsuki’s friends work in the same field as him. They went to UA together and most of them are pro heroes. It’s happened times before and it will happen times again where they can’t relate to what I’m talking about.”

“I’m sure there are people at school, colleagues that you work with?” your mother asked in surprise.

Moving to Tokyo had been a bad idea. It was away from Musutafu, and had a large and bustling crowd. Shizuoka had been quiet and peaceful whilst the new bulk of the Kanto region was a walking clock. Katsuki’s friends were a common sight to see in Tokyo as that was where the headquarters for pro hero agencies were. You hoped it would be the start of a new life, only to be proven wrong day after day. You tried seizing opportunities of meeting new neighbors, only to be ushered out just as quickly as you were done with greetings. Cubicles in your school office were just as quiet, given the fact that you were in a private one. Colleagues thought you were Dynamight’s trophy wife, hastening their footsteps along the hallway anytime they would run into you. The only person you could say you had a “girl time” with was Mina and that didn't happen often given that she was in the same line of work as Katsuki.

“I do talk to a friend from the agency sometimes…” you said, shifting your position deeper into the couch out of embarrassment.

“You don’t have any friends?” your mom asked in an accusatory manner. “It’s not like I don’t have any. When we moved from Musutafu, I left nearly everything behind including my social life!” you tried defending yourself on the phone.

“(Y/N). Look at the signs. You’ve not spoken to any of your friends, living in a completely new town, and not even found a person to have a social life with?” your mother reasoned.

“At least tell me that you go out… When was the last time you did?” Your mother asked in a grave voice. Your eyes wavered, thinking of an answer of when the last was that you went out.

“(Y/N)?” your mother taunted.

“... The hike with Katsuki.” you replied in a small voice.

“That was six months ago. So you haven’t gone out ever since you began packing your things, or moved there or when you were settled in.” your mother said.

“No.” came your reply.

“(Y/N). I know it’s difficult to abandon nearly everything and move to a new place. But… Why are you adapting to a routine Katsuki set for himself? You should go out, make mistakes, get lost someplace and find it beautiful. It won’t be long till you miss all that and actually need to take care of a child of your own, right?” your mother explained in the softest voice she could, trying not to scare you.

You could feel tears threatening to fall from the corner of your eye as reality dawned upon you. As time passed by, you hadn’t realized that you had lost pieces of yourself, all for the sake of making the man you love happy and content. Each day slowly chipping away what you were previously, leaving you with an empty shell of a woman who was too dependent on your husband. Was this one of the reasons why you thought Katsuki and you got along so well? Was there an individuality to you or were you just lost in the obsession of being your best for him and not for yourself? You began to shake as you wondered, ‘How long have I been living like this’, ‘Why didn’t I notice it earlier’. You felt air leave your lungs, your mind dragging you under water where waves swept you from beneath your feet, causing you to spiral into their deepest depths.

“(Y/N), I need you to breathe for me honey.” Your mother said calmly. “In a sequence now. Breathe in” you heard her inhale. “One, two, three, four… and breathe out.” she said, exhaling with a heavy breath. Sniffling you began to do what she did, inhaling and exhaling until you felt your heart return back to normal the feeling of waves receding into the ocean.

“Alright there we go. You’re doing great!” you other cheered as you gave her a watery laugh through the phone. “Before I go, remember, both Katsuki and you are in this matrimony together. Both of you share the same burden and responsibility both for your actions and for or against one another.” Your mother said in a soft tone. Rubbing the remaining of the tear tracks away from your eyes, you replied in a shaky voice. “Thanks Mom.”

“Don’t worry dear. Everything will be fine. It all works out towards the end… I have to go now, but I’ll call you soon okay?Love you.” she said with a hint of a smile in her voice. “Love you too.” you said before you heard the phone line go dead, ending the call.

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With a drop of his keys and a bang of the door behind with his foot, Dynamight had retired for the day from the agency. Walking across the room, he opened the fridge to grab a can of beer before promptly sitting down on the couch and turning on the television. Hearing the commotion, you made your way out of your shared room, luminated by the moonlight.

“Welcome home…” you muttered in a low voice. With a grunt, he moved to kick his feet up and place them on the coffee table.

“Um… Katsuki?” you called out, fingers digging into the soft fabric of the edge of the couch, far from the corner he sat in. He hummed in response, one hand busy switching channels of the television in front of him.

“Can we talk?” you asked in a timid voice. “Go ahead… I’m listening.” he responded, taking a sip from the can, the noise from the lit screen filling up the room. “Uh… could you turn the volume of the tv down? This is important.” you replied. Not bothering to respond as his eyes trailed from left right, reading the headlines, you sighed, moving around the couch. Shaking him by the shoulder, you spoke once more. “Please Katsuki, this is really important.”

“I said I was listening wasn’t I? God,it’s like I can’t catch a fucking break when I come home to you.” he said in a grave voice, pressing the mute button. “What?” your voice cracked as you spoke, feeling a pang in your chest at every venomous word he said. “Why can’t you understand that I’ve had a fucking long day and all I need is some good peace and quiet? Do you have to run your mouth every fucking time about something? If not about dropping shit on the floor, it’s about taking a vacation. When are you gonna learn that not everything is about you?!” Katsuki yelled. You could feel tears pooling at the waterline of your eyes; not from the feeling of sadness or grief or emptiness, but of rage and humiliation. With a shaky breath, you said, “I want us to go to counseling.”

“This again? I already said no.” Katsuki said firmly. Biting your tongue in defiance, you parted your lips. “Why not?” you asked as you felt tears streaming down your cheeks. “I am not going for a check on our marriage. It’s been going great so far and I don’t need shit to hit the fan for both of us with this.” Katsuki reasoned, waving his back and forth between you and him.

“You think this marriage is fine Katsuki?” you asked bringing your wrist to wipe away at the tears collected on your cheeks and under your chin. Acknowledging your question with a glare, he turned away from you. “I don’t have time for shit like this.” he said arrogantly, crushing the can in his palm. “When do you even have time for anything anymore? It’s always about work, work, work. Do you know how much I sacrificed for you?!” you yelled. “You don’t even fucking care about anything. Do you ask me how my day was? Do you ask me if I’m eating well or sleeping well? Do you even bother to remember me by when we live in the same fucking house?!” you continued, walking towards him. “Day after day after day” you said, jabbing a pointed finger towards his chest, “I have done nothing but take care of your best interests. Not only have you humiliated me as a person, you don’t even acknowledge me as an equal. If I can respect you as a wife, why won’t you recognize my wishes and effort as a husband, Katsuki?!” you said, fury threatening to bubble to the surface.

“Every fucking time I do something for you, all you do is whine and complain about it. Fuck, I don’t even know what is wrong with me and you’re not even there to talk to about it. Is that what this marriage is?!” you cried as you shoved him back. “Tell me.” you shoved him. “Tell me.” you shoved him thrice. “JUST FUCKING TELL ME ALREADY, KATSUKI !!!” you yelled at the top of your voice, causing him to take several steps back. With nothing to say back, you felt your shoulder heave up and down from the intensity. Your ears felt like they were on fire. You watched as Katsuki stood still, breathing hard from the hits that you gave him.

“That’s what I thought.” you muttered, before going to your bedroom and packing a duffel bag. Grabbing essentials, you changed into casual clothes, grabbing your purse from the hook. With heavy footsteps across the floor, you opened the door, letting moonlight flood into the living room.

“Where are you going?” Katsuki asked from the corner of the room. He hadn’t moved from the spot of the argument followed by the outburst. “Just taking a couple of days off… maybe more.” you said, lifting a foot to step out of the door. “It’s one in the morning (Y/N). Just get the fuck back in.” Katsuki said with the wave of his arm. “I can’t go on without answers Katsuki. It’s alright for one of us to not be okay with the other once in a while… but it’s to a point where we haven’t talked to each other about it and fixed it along with moving forward. But now? It’s in a state where you’re doing fine and I’m taking the collateral damage. I haven’t asked you the reason for it as my trust and love for you gets the better of me, but how long can I take it till I break?” you said with a sad smile.

“Just please (Y/N). Let’s go back to bed and we’ll discuss this in the morning.” Katsuki tired once more, daring to step closer to you. Dropping your bag to the floor, you almost gave in.

Almost.

But your mind wouldn’t let you, choosing to let you relive those memories where he would shout, yell, scream and ignore you. Hugging his torso, you pulled him close. “I’m at my limit Katsuki and I know you. Steel to the bone and you won’t change. Please, just let me have my way. For once. I want to salvage this marriage as much as you do, but I lost myself in it. And I need that part of me back or this won’t last very long.” you said in a low voice. Katsuki could hear his shaky breath, knowing that heart of hearts, he was breaking. Circling his arms around you, he hugged you back.

“You promise to be back?” he asked in a hopeful voice with glassy eyes, caressing the skin of your cheek.

“Don’t know how long, but distance would make the heart grow fonder of you.” you chuckled, letting a few tears slip.

“Alright. Do you want me to drop you?” Katsuki asked, grabbing the keys. Placing a gentle palm over his strong forearm, you pushed it down with a silent no.

“It’s best if I do it alone.” you said, grabbing the keys from the bowl instead. Kissing him goodbye on the cheek, you walked out the door, not daring to look back, knowing that you would stay.

Revving up the engine of the car, you pulled out from the driveway, while Katsuki watched you silently from the window, hiding his figure silently behind the curtain. Driving along the dark roads of the city that never slept, you thought about just how far you were willing to break yourself for the man you love.

Enough to still love him through each crack.

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IMPORTANT!!

Stay safe, guys!!

❗AVOID THESE PEDOPHILES AT ALL COSTS! ❗

I was scrolling through Tumblr and came across a post of KNOWN PEDOPHILES ON TUMBLR (many of which have or want to rape actual children/minors)

THERE ARE ACTUAL PEDOPHILES ON TUMBLR TRYING TO GET IN TOUCH WITH MINORS ON TUMBLR

PLEASE SIGNAL BOOST THIS LIST AND KEEP OUR MINORS SAFE

while trying to flee ukraine, poc (asians, africans, middle easterners) are reporting actively being pulled off of escape transportation to make room for more white people at the polish border. poland is refusing to accept poc as refugees period to, again, make room for more white people. it’s also being reported that Ukrainian policeman are becoming physically violent with black people trying to flee. all of this needs to be recognized as a war crime and i’m so, deeply serious.

source 1 • source 2 • source 3 (originally provided by @wheresthewater)

Myosotis Pt.1 (ao3)

HawksxPersonal Assistant Reader. Multichap. Heroes sacrificed every part of themselves to keep civilians like you safe. But, when they lay alone in the quiet of the night, who would be there to save them? For Hawks, it would be you.

Nsfw in future chapters. Hurt/comfort and depictions of PTSD. Codependency and a little forbidden love between a hero and his PA.

Prologue

The hallway door was cracked slightly open to allow a long band of light to lay across your bedside. It was a comfort to you then. It's funny to remember your innocence. If only imaginary monsters and the absence of light could be your worst fears again. In those days, though, you’d yet to know the sting of the real world. You were ten, and safe in your childhood bedroom.

The stripe of light broke across your blanket and your door creaked gently open. Your father's voice called your name in a whisper, and you perked your head up to see his face in the crack of your door. This was a ritual you both cherished. Your father was a florist, and he often worked late into the afternoons. It was usual he got home after dark. He’d often wake you in the middle of the night to watch hero news with him, to make up for missing your day.

"Your boyfriend is on TV," he teased, and you jolted up in bed with reddened cheeks. 

"Hawks?" You blurted. It was embarrassing you knew exactly who he meant. Even more so when he laughed at your pinkined face. 

"Hurry up if you wanna see him, that kid's gone in the blink of an eye-" 

You already stumbled out of your bed. Your father stepped back into the light of the hall. His shimmering white wings dragged on the floor behind him as he followed you to the living room. 

Hawks was only eighteen then, and he’d been on the scene for only a few months. Still, he quickly became you and your father's favorite face to see in a battle. For your father, it had everything to do with Hawks being a bird, just like him. And just like you. You didn’t meet others with wings on their backs often, so it was nice to see a hero with a similar mutation. Hawks was a talented young man filled with promise, and your father loved to live vicariously through the kid's endeavors.

For you, Hawks was your favorite simply because he was cute. 

A fact your father loved to pick on you for.

"Remember to be quiet, your mother will pluck my wings if she knew I let you out of bed so late again," your father quipped as you sat beside each other on the living room couch. 

You tucked your feathered limbs against your back and nodded, but your eyes were trained on the television. You didn't miss him this time! The live camera had a hard time keeping up with him as he darted between buildings. Especially in the dark of night. The villain this time appeared to be made of liquid, so Hawks was opting to lure the enemy away from civilians as he formulated a plan. 

He didn't look bothered in the least when the camera caught a glimpse of his face. The guy almost looked bored, even, as the villain tried desperately to snag him out of the sky. He was definitely a force to be reckoned with, but you couldn't help but wonder if Hawks ever got scared out there. 

"You know, you could be a hero, too… If you really wanted to,” your dad said as he nudged you with his wing. “I mean, with that replication quirk of yours, you’d be a hard one to beat.”

Ah, your dad brought that up a lot. You loved talking heroes. Keeping up with their exciting careers was your favorite shared pastime. He seemed to like the idea of seeing you on the television one day, but every kid you knew wanted to be a hero. To follow in the footsteps of the people who sacrificed everything to look out for the community did sound exciting and glamorous. You couldn’t help but wonder, though, who looked out for them?

"There are already lots of strong heroes," you said, rubbing your upper arm in thought. "I want to be something else.”

“Oh, yeah? Like what?”

“I wanna be a PA.”

“A what now?”

“You know… a personal assistant, the people who work with heroes to make their jobs easier and stuff. I wanna get into the business course at U.A. and learn to do that,” you said as you ran your fingers over your white feathers. Those were some pretty ambitious dreams for a child to have. “I know it’s not as cool as being a hero, but I think I’d be good at it.”

The television flicked faint light across your father’s face as he smiled at you. That little cockeyed grin of his was always enough to put your heart at ease. Whether it be monsters in the closet or anxiety over an exciting and mysterious future, your father’s gentle kindness kept your heart whole. 

“Sounds pretty cool to me,” he assured you, his voice almost a whisper to keep from waking your mother in the next room. “You’re gonna do great things, Chickadee. I can feel it.”

...

The air was crisp on your lips that night. You buried your face a little deeper into your scarf to battle the cold. The setting sun cast shadows over the darkening city streets. Dusk cast the world in its beautiful blue hues. It was a weeknight, so few people were out. It was only you, your mother on one side of you, and your father who was on the other. One of his wings lay lazily over your shoulder to keep you warm against the bitter chill.

You were suffering through your awkward teen years at that point, but life was going as planned. You were fifteen and working on your first year of the UA business course. Getting in wasn’t easy, and getting your Personal Assistant license by eighteen was an even greater endeavor, but you were on your way.

Your folks took you around town that night to celebrate your grade average, and, of course, your florist father congratulated you with a surprise bouquet of lilies. The white arrangement was complemented by the powdery blue of your favorite flower, forget-me-nots. Your nose was in them half the night to savor their smell, likely a habit of the bird in you.

All was usual, and you believed that night would be like most others. Pleasant, but forgettable.

That couldn’t have been farther from the truth. It became the most vivid memory you had of life before the war.

Your father slowed his steps, his wing gripped your shoulder just a little to get you to match his new pace. He leaned down and mumbled low enough for just you to hear. 

“Do you see who I see?” he asked as he gestured his head up the street. You looked up from your phone to peer forward, and you stiffened to a stop. Up the street, no more than thirty feet, perhaps, the color red stood out against the gray blues of the city. A brilliant set of wings attached to a familiar man you’d never met before that night. At least not outside of your daydreams.

He leaned against a light pole and tapped at his phone, but he noticed your family before you were close enough for him to hear your footsteps. 

Your mouth went dry as he caught you in his sights, and your wings instinctively wrapped around you to hide yourself from his view. Your dad laughed at you, because of course he would, before giving you a little tap to try and nudge you forward. 

“He doesn’t look busy, we should say hi,” he suggested, and you shook your head no. That was HAWKS. Your favorite hero since you were like ten. You couldn’t just walk up to him and start blathering like a lunatic. 

“No, what if I embarrass myself or- dad, I- dad, come back!-”

You yanked your mom’s sleeve as if asking her to back you up, but she just gave you a stupid little grin before she muttered, “You know I can’t stop him when he gets something in his head.”

Your heart pounded against your rib cage like a wild animal. He was not gonna just prance up to the number two hero. Oh god. Your face flushed as red as Hawks’ wings. The hero lowered said feathered appendages until they touched the sidewalk beneath him. He then stood up straight to greet your father, a polite smile on his face. Go figure your dad would be the person to just walk up to a celebrity and start talking as if they were old buddies. You cringed in embarrassment at first, but it melted away when you realized Hawks kindly returned the sentiment. 

You couldn’t hear them, but your dad’s wings puffed up and fluttered behind him as he spoke. He was always bad about talking with his wingspan. Hawks tipped his head back and laughed, which made your heart thump a little in a different kind of way. He was twenty-two, then, which was a bit too old for you at only fifteen. That didn’t stop your innocent little crush from fluffing up your wings. 

Your dad turned around to gesture towards you and your mother, and then… Jesus, they walked your way. You were jealous of your father’s courage. You could hardly handle Hawks even looking at you, obvious from your puffed feathers, and there your father was making friends with the guy. Their voices echoed against the buildings lining the street, and the approaching murmur of Hawks’ voice made goosebumps raise on your arms. Your wings clenched tighter around your torso the closer they got, so your mother placed her hand gently on your shoulder to keep you from flying away. 

Which you very likely would have. 

“That was wild, seeing you and Endeavor up against that freakish hood guy. We were scared for you guys there for a minute!” you heard your father’s deep voice reverberate as they approached. Hawks replied with something or another. He was practically right in front of you. Your ears rang as blood rushed to them. You couldn’t have imagined how big his wings really were in person. Those brilliant crimson limbs of his made even your father’s look pitiful in comparison. 

“Here she is,” your dad said as his hands gestured out to you. That dumb look of pride was plastered on his face. Oh, great, he probably gushed about you through most of their conversation. 

“Hey, kid,” Hawks said as he lifted his visor to his forehead. He looked right at you. Those amber eyes were unobstructed and soft. White haze ghosted from his mouth from the chill in the air, and his nose and cheeks were dusted a faint pink from the cold. Jeeze, he was pretty. "It's not every day I meet other birds- nice to meetcha!" 

You could hardly will yourself to reply. God, how did your dad keep such a cool head with those angular eyes staring at him? You surely weren't capable of it.

"You're my favorite hero,” you squeezed out of your throat, though it came out like a whisper. Surely it was something he heard every day. That made a part of you feel better about being bashful, but there was another part that was disappointed you didn’t say something more memorable. You spent years daydreaming about what words to put together for him if you had the chance, but when he was there in front of you those pre-planned phrases slipped away.

“Ah, me, really?” he chuckled as a gloved hand scratched the back of his neck. 

His sweet, relaxed demeanor calmed you a little. Though the bottom of your face was buried beneath your wings to hide the redness in your cheeks. Your feathers stood on end, too, giving your nerves away. Surely a fellow bird would be able to pick up on your pitiful body language.

White specks fluttered down from the darkening sky as you yanked the straps of your backpack out from under your wings. This moment wouldn’t last much longer. Even if he didn’t remember you the next day, you wanted a memento of your meeting.

“Could you… sign my backpack?” you asked. Your wings finally unfurled to reveal all of yourself to him. But they fluffed right back up when he glanced at all the pins and charms that adorned your bag. Of course, they were modeled after his likeness. Your admiration was presented to him in a pitiful display. God, all of the regret! The humiliation! The poor thing made a sound in your fist as you squeezed it with whitening knuckles. 

“‘Course I can,” he replied, and his gloved hand grazed yours as you begrudgingly handed the bag over. 

His gaze dusted over the thing. As he lingered over your charms his joyful expression faltered. He still smiled, but a hint of a different emotion settled in his eyes. Your flustered disposition faded when you recognized what it was: a solemn, bittersweet sadness.

You were the only one who noticed, it seemed, as your family talked amongst each other behind you. The concern you felt for Hawks outweighed your anxiety. Why did a look at your bag bring out such emotions for him?

"Hawks, are you okay?" you pondered, and he blinked at you. “You look… sad.”

For a moment his smile failed him. The emotion he tried to hide broke through in all its glory. His mouth went slack, and his eyes lowered. But only for one vulnerable moment.

"Sad?" He said, and then his head tipped back as he let out a laugh. "How could I be sad in the presence of an angel?" 

It wasn’t the first time someone called you that, on account of your wings. But hearing those words from the mouth of your favorite hero, of Hawks. It left your heart stinging in the most beautiful way. Again, you hid behind your wings with red cheeks. 

Jesus Christ, you were gonna cry. If his goal was to distract you, he did a damn fine job.

He popped open the cap of a sharpie he pulled from his pocket and scribbled his name across the cloth. A hint of that expression returned to him, as if he was unworthy of your admiration. What exactly gave you that impression was unclear, but that look of his lingered like a bad taste. You wished there was something you could do or say to alleviate whatever was hurting him, but you knew you didn't have that kind of power. 

"Here ya go, Feather," he chimed as he returned your newly signed backpack. Really, no charm or pin could mean as much as those black sharpie stains. HAWKS, they read in messy, thick letters. You smiled faintly. It was nice to know he was just as laid back and kind in person as he was on television. 

And that little nickname. Feather, god it made your young heart swoon.

"I hate to run, but I'm afraid I have some business to attend to. It was wonderful talking with you folks," Hawks said, and your heart rattled again.

"W-wait!" you said as your fingers fumbled with the bouquet that'd been aloft in your hands. You pulled some of the arrangement free from the plastic, a lilly and several forget-me-nots clutched in your hand. "Take these."

Graciously, he extended his hand. To lay the stems of your father's flowers in Hawks' gloved palm felt like a dream, but a genuine smile returned to his face as he looked them over.

"Oh, they're so pretty," he said.

"T-they're my favorite. Forget-me-nots," you replied, cheeks pinked with the realization of how on the nose the flower choice was. "My dad grew them at his shop."

He tucked the small bundle of flowers into his jacket pocket, and then gave it a pat. 

"Sounds like a good luck charm if I ever heard of one," he said, grinning. "Thank you. I'll see you guys around!"

With That, his visor fell back down over his face and his wings stretched outwards, reaching high above you and your parents. His wingspan alone was intimidating. To be in their shadow made you feel vulnerable and small. 

"Hey, thanks for taking the time!" Your dad replied. Hawks waved before vanishing into the darkness of the evening sky.

You were completely ecstatic about the chance meeting, naturally, but that broken look on his face haunted you with unanswered questions. Little did you know your life would one day revolve solely around finding the answers. 

…

Chapter 1

Life goes on, they say. Many parts of the city remained in ruins as reconstruction efforts heaved on for years after the war, but things slowly began to look the same again. You could walk down the street without being reminded of that terrible time, which was good, because today was supposed to be one of the best in your life. 

You were an adult, well, sort of, finally having turned eighteen and graduated from school. You were the top of your class at UA, a goal you worked tirelessly to achieve. 

That’s what earned you the right to take the PA certification exam the week before. Hundreds of hopefuls went in for testing. Only a fraction left with a license. And, honestly, you weren't surprised you were the only one to achieve a perfect score. It could be no other way if your dream was to be realized. To become the most saught after personal assistant in Japan.

Looking after someone in the hero field isn’t a job for the faint of heart, and there’s a lot more to the title than most people realize. To keep heroes on task and handle their business dealings was only a small part of the job. The other chunk of the was what got you interested to begin with. The human part. Every PA is required to act as psychological support as well. You took four years of psychology through school to even be allowed to take the certification exam. 

At the end of the day, heroes sacrificed every part of themselves to keep civilians like you safe. They got hurt. Their loved ones died. A heroes' job was to do the saving. But, after so much had been lost and they lay alone in the quiet of the night, who would be there to save them?

For some hero out there, you would be by the end of the afternoon.

The Safety Commission administered your exam and that day they’d be assigning you to a hero. Anxiety coursed through you, of course. This was your first PA assignment, so you’d probably be placed with a lesser known hero who just needed some extra help around the office. At least until you proved yourself worthy of handling more serious cases. A rookie like you won’t be placed with the likes of a top ten or anything, but that thought helped ease the anxiety. 

You hummed pleasantly to yourself as your dress shoes clicked against the pavement, daydreaming about who you could end up assigned to. But the daydreaming halted when you realized the footsteps behind you got persistently closer. Your head turned to glance around your wings, but your steps got faster. A man lingered behind your stride, and it seemed he was following you. He could've had bad intentions, or he could've just been in a hurry. Your side of the street is rather sparsely populated, however, and he never walked past you. 

You made eye contact, but his legs moved in tandem with yours, inching closer and closer with each step. He would've stepped on your tail feathers if his dirty sneakers got any closer. Your wings puffed in preparation to take off in flight if the guy tried anything. As he got close enough for your wings to pump in warning, a large, dark shadow glided over you. Your eyes shot upward, and your heart settled comfortably when you saw a pair of red wings block out the sun. It was a hero. The number two hero, Hawks, specifically.

His wings pumped before his boots slammed into a utility pole not far ahead. He squatted and lifted his visor for a better view as the footsteps behind you slowed. You never stopped walking, even as you watched the hero land. Your flight instincts were too strong to stop even for a good look at Hawks. With one more glance between your feathers, though, you noticed the man who’d been on your tail turned onto another street. 

Whether that stranger actually had any ill will or not you couldn’t be sure, but you were happy to accept you’d never know. Thanks to Hawks’ keen eye keeping watch over you. 

You stopped.

You looked at Hawks.

He looked at you.

He was probably thirty feet above you. His scars were easily seen when you were so close to him. Remnants of the war that still lingered on his flesh. The left side of his face was framed with thick, damaged tissue. The state of his left wing looked about the same. Much of the red plumage never grew back, so the poor thing looked gimpy compared to its twin. Somehow he still managed to retain his charming looks despite those things, you noticed.

He smiled, and you tried to scan his face for any hint of recognition. Though his eyes lingered for a long moment on the shape of your face he didn't seem to remember you. 

You hesitated, but raised a hand to wave a silent thank you.

You wished he was close enough to hear your voice. To see your vaguely familiar face. You’d be able to speak with more confidence than the younger version of yourself had all those years ago, but your words wouldn’t reach him.

His visor fell back over his face as he stood. And, just as quickly as he swooped in, his crimson wings lifted him back up. And he was gone. 

It took several moments for you to collect yourself. Despite not knowing him personally, Hawks felt like an old friend in a way. The connection you lost with your father was mirrored in your feelings of the number two hero. Having seen those red wings brought you a cocktail of bittersweet sadness and gentle relief that was hard to swallow. Hopefully he didn’t notice your old backpack that'd been repurposed as a work bag.

You tucked the thing against your side to hide his faded signature on the front, then continued on your way. 

...

The commission was bustling, as always. It was one of the first facilities rebuilt after the war, and the new management was determined to be at the forefront of restoring peace. Thanks to government funding it became a hub of cooperation and progress. Thankfully, the PA program received a lot of that investment.

When you stepped into the lobby your senses were assaulted with sight and sound. People in suits scrambled about and the sounds of ringing telephones and keyboards being furiously typed upon echoed against the walls. You were told over the phone to go upstairs into a meeting room to be briefed. You didn’t have to check in or wait in the lobby, they told you. So it was a surprise to see the other newly licensed PAs doing exactly what you were told not to. 

Nine PA newbies sat in a circle around a table as they waited to be called back for their assignments. You recognized them all from the exam. This was your first clue something was off about your briefing. Especially when the other PAs watched you walk towards the elevators in confused silence. Somehow this was even more nerve wracking than taking the exam was. 

Tenth floor, third door on the right, you were told. When you slipped into the little meeting room your palms began to sweat. You were expecting only the man who scored your exam results to be present for your assignment. Instead, you stood in a claustrophobic room surrounded by him, the acting president of the commission, and three other people you don’t know. 

The president, a man named Mera, greeted you by your full name. Your hair stood on end. Why the hell was he here? You were just getting placed with a hero today, right? Right? 

“Thank you for coming, could you close the door behind you?” the president requested. You leaned back against it until it clicked shut. Your cheeks tinted a slight pink in your anxiety and your palm sweat felt gross in your hands. Was this an interrogation or something? The air of the room was so thick it was hard to breathe in. 

You willed yourself to take the seat across from the group. Questions ran through your head. One hundred thousand questions, but you were too intimidated to ask any of them. Your wings curled up tight to your back as one of the men cleared his throat. 

“I know this is a lot you didn’t expect. We don’t mean to be intimidating, so take a breath,” he said, and you quickly expelled the one you were holding. “We have a hero to assign to you, but this is an unorthodox case. A meeting with the president is a requirement before we can place you together.”

Jesus christ, were they asking you to pull All Might out of retirement or something?

“You’re talking like you’re placing me with number one,” you managed to quip with a nervous laugh, but you regretted speaking out of turn when the group of suits sat in serious silence. 

“Number two,” the president corrected, and it was suddenly hard to swallow.

“Come... again?” you said as your wings slumped to the tile floor.

“We’re assigning you to number two- Hawks,” he repeated himself. 

Of course. How could it have been anything else?

It took everything you had not to bite hard into your bottom lip. To keep composure was your first lesson in your PA coursework, so your face remained soft despite your pounding heart. It made no sense why you would be their pick to look after a hero like Hawks. He’d been in the game since you were in grade school. The man spearheaded a war for god’s sake. What help could a newbie PA be to someone like him?

Even the universe was making fun of you for your childlike attachment to him. 

“I’m honored you’d consider me for such a position, of course,” you began cautiously. Should you tell them this wasn't the job for you? It'd be impossible to properly council someone you spent the better part of your life being invested in. From an ethical standpoint, anyway. And this would be your first ever assignment. “I just passed my certifications last week, though. I have no field experience yet. With all due respect, why me?” 

"You're a bird," the president said. Again, you released a small laugh. And, again, he didn't reciprocate. Was he being serious? You sat up a little and held your tongue as he continued. "You also accomplished a perfect score on your exam. Of this year's new PA batch you seem the most promising fit… Not to undermine your skills, but, if I’m being transparent, placing you together is a last resort. We’ve assigned several experienced PAs to him, but it’s done no good.”

Your brow furrowed at that bit of information. From the outside Hawks seemed like a PAs dream with his squeaky clean reputation and friendly demeanor. You couldn’t imagine why he’d have issues getting along with anyone. But that only proved how little you really knew him. 

"It sounds like he doesn't want the help you're giving him."

The president sighed.

“As you probably know, he took a year hiatus after his involvement in the war,” he continued, and you nodded.

Of course you knew. What kind of superfan would you be otherwise? Still, it was his reintroduction you remember moreso. Purely because of the excitement and relief you felt to see him back in action. There was no announcement of his return. One day, he was gone. The next, his agency doors were back open and his silhouette once again graced the streets below him. 

Despite all the buzz around him the year he was down and out, his condition was kept an illusive secret. Even now, after two years back on the job, no one really knew the specifics around his hiatus. An impressive feat, considering his wiki article alone was ten miles long. 

"Yes, I remember when he took time off."

"It wasn't of his own volition, I'm afraid. We suspended his license that year."

The confession floored you into shocked silence, and again you battled your heart to stop drumming so hard. This was something no one knew. Not the media, his fan pages, and not even other heroes if their interviews were genuine.

"Why?" you managed.

"This is strictly private information and considered a confidential part of your briefing, whether or not you accept the position."

What the hell were you getting into?

"I understand."

The president leaned into the table with his elbow and pinched the bridge of his nose. You'd seen many of his television appearances. He was portrayed as a strong-willed man who never faltered. The only one with enough guts to rebuild the HPSC despite the damning rumors circulating about it's previous administration and their dealings. If only you knew back then how deep that rabbit hole went.

"Hawks wanted to jump back into the thick of hero work once the war was over," he began, "but he developed psychological burdens that hindered his ability to perform, hence the revoking of his license. We tried to admit him to our recovery program, like we did for every hero who fought in the war, but his turbulent relationship with the previous HPSC administration made it difficult for us to help. He doesn't trust us, and I can't blame him."

"He had personal issues with the HPSC?"

"There's a lot the public doesn't know about his story. Unfortunately, most of it is tragic."

Your eyes became a bit misty. You knew everything there was to know about Hawks, or so you thought. Every confession from the president made you realize you really knew nothing at all.  

“He recovered better than we anticipated in that year. He passed our exams and his license was reinstated, but his performance is suffering again. We fear it’s only a matter of time before he slips up in the wrong moment. We don’t want to lose him, you understand?”

You did, somehow. He spoke so vaguely it was hard to form a big picture. But a memory invaded your thoughts. It was an old one you often found yourself reliving in quiet moments. When you met him in the chill of winter all those years ago, and he signed your backpack with that empty sadness that plagued your thoughts. Looking back now, you realize that moment took place not long before the war. Was that the cause of his grief? He knew it was coming? Did he never escape from that sadness?

You thought back to only an hour or so before this tense meeting. What a wild coincidence it was you saw him that day. Though the predicament you were in that morning could have easily been overlooked, he stopped for you. He made sure you were safe. It only felt right to do the same for him in return.

Thinking of this assignment as returning favors to him made it easier to swallow.

“So, my assignment is to correct behavioral issues?” you asked. Your voice had more confidence now, as if this was something you’d done a hundred times before. Internally, you were quaking. “Can you give me some specifics to work with? Having a plan before we meet for the first time is detrimental if I'm going to get anywhere with him.” 

The group looked at the president, who let a sigh slip from his aged lips. Frustration was on his face, but it wasn’t aimed towards you. His mind seemed elsewhere as he reached into his work bag and extracted a manilla folder. Hawks' case file. Seems your cool head and straightforward demeanor paid off with the president.

"His judgement is impaired," he informed you as he held the case file out for you. "He was at one time our most reliable hero. But now… well, he can be a liability even to himself at times. He uses excessive force against targets when not necessary, and other times he's unable to engage at all. He often can't keep up in life or death situations- he's lucky he's squeaked by the last couple years relatively unscathed. Because he's been so resistant to his past assistants we aren't sure how to best help him… hopefully you'll make him comfortable enough to find out. Everything we know is in that file."

He trailed off as his eyes narrowed with an emotion you couldn't decipher. His expression teetered between uncertainty and hope when he watched you crack open the folder handed to you. Despite the long list of previous PAs detailed on the first page, the stack of paper was rather thin. Apparently they only lasted long enough to report back a handful of times.

What the hell was he doing to those very experienced assistants to make them flake out in just a few weeks? These files were going to be an interesting read. It peeked your interest as a dutiful PA as well as a curious long time fan.

Another suited man you'd yet to hear speak piped up. "This is a lot to ask of you, we understand. Don't feel pressured to accept the placement if you don't think it will suit you."

"I'm still reeling from the suddenness of all of this," you confess. And, honestly, there was nothing you could offer Hawks that his previous PAs couldn't. "But I wanted this job so I could help heroes, so I'll do the best I can." 

seems to apply only to B and up, and man you wouldn't believe how long it took me to get all of this

-------------------------------------------------------

Nightbringer Surprise Guests

Lucifer

I'm feeling good. Why don't we open a bottle of my prized Demonus?

1. Tap Face

2. Rub Head

3. Rub Chest

I know you want to give me a high five, don't you? Fine, just this once. Call it a special occasion.

1. High Five

2. Rub Chest

3. Tap Arm

Mammon

We'll be invincible if we Team up!

1. Rub Face

2. Rub Face

3. Rub Face

Hey, hey, hey! The Great Mammon makes his mark!

1. High Five

2. Rub Head

3. Rub Head

Leviathan

Haha, let's experience tha taste of victory together!

1. Tap Head

2. Rub Face

3. Rub Head

Let's great each other like Normies would!

1. High Five

2. Rub Head

3. Tap Face

Satan

We won thanks to me.

1. Rub Face

2. Tap Chest

3. (Rub/Tap Chest, Tap/Rub Arm, Tap/Rub Head, Rub Face) Tap Face (couldn't get one with more hearts???)

Is this how one shares happiness? Give me a high five.

1. High Five

2. Rub Head

3. Tap Chest

Asmodeus

A win for me is as natural as breathing air!

1. Rub Head

2. Rub Chest

3. Rub Arm

Come on, hold out your hand. High five <3

1. High Five

2. Rub Head

3. Rub Face

Beelzebub

Thanks to you, I was able to get through it despite being hungry.

1. Tap Head

2. Tap Head

3. Rub Chest

Not bad, huh? It's time for a victory hamburger!

1. High Five

2. Rub Chest

3. Rub Arm

Belphegor

You want to hang out with me? All right, you got it.

1. Rub Head

2. Rub Face

3. Rub Head

All right... you want me to hold up my hand, right?

1. High Five

2. Rub Head

3. Rub Head

Diavolo

It really does feel good to win, doesn't it!

1. Rub Head

2. Rub Head

3. Tap Head

All right, let's savor the joy of victory... Just you and me!

1. High Five

2. Rub Face

3. Tap Face

Barbatos

Was I of any help to you?

1. Tap Head

2. Tap Head

3. Rub Head

Is this where we do the so-called "high five"? Someone taught me how to do it.

1. High Five

2. Rub Head

3. Tap Head

Solomon

You're my best student, you know? As your teacher, you make me proud

1. Tap Chest

2. Rub Chest

3. Rub Chest

Hey! It felt good to win like that, huh? We make a truly amazing teacher and apprentice team, am I right?

1. High Five

2. Tap Chest

3. Rub Head

Simeon

I'm super excited right now, but how about you?

1. Rub Head

2. Rub Face

3. Rub Arm

How about we see whether exchanging greetings will deepen our bond?

1. High Five

2. Rub Head

3. Rub Face

Luke

...So how was it? Did I look cool?

1. Rub Head

2. Rub Face

3. Rub Arm

Okay here we go! It's time for a high five!

1. High Five

2. Rub Head

3. Rub Head

YES

Solomon @ MC constantly:

It’s You

Satan x reader

wc : 0.8k

warnings : mentions of blood, brief depictions of war

synopsis : He remembers you.

There was yelling. Ear-piercing screams, angry shouts, betrayal-dripping words. Celestia didn’t look beautiful anymore. Not when there was blood and feathers scattered across the ground, spears and arrows flying, swords clashing. Not now. 

Celestia was hideous right now— disgusting, disgraceful. Standing on the red stained grass had you feeling nauseous until you saw him.

Keep reading

06/24/22

CW Gun violence, death/

My friend is a trans woman who is currently homeless. Last night she witnessed her friend being shot and killed at a homeless encampment. She had to run away to avoid being shot herself. She is completely broke, out of gas, sick and traumatized, and still homeless. She just arrived in the city, but she needs to leave again after this terrifying night. Please please help. It's pride month, and I'm tired of begging every day for a trans woman to have what little she needs to survive.

Venm0 @ ruby_arnone - $charlotterose86

PayPal.me/ruby11a