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marielikestodraw:

Fic: “We were emergencies”
Author: Gyzym

Summary: It’s not about being unmade; it’s about remaking, one aching step at a time.

Notes: This story has some fairly extensive trigger warnings behind it, which required some explanation as to why I wrote it at all; as said warnings contain spoilers for the story, they’re in the endnotes. If, for your own-self care, you’d like to look at those before reading, please click “More Notes” <3

Additionally, the title of this has been culled from the Buddy Wakefield poem of the same name, and this story could not have been produced without: fuck-it-fire-everything, who handily provided me with the soundtrack that got me through; Sirona, who checked my Clint characterization with her expert eye; postcardmystery, who is, as ever, my better half in all things fiction and…nope, in all things period, actually; and, of course, Marie, who created the gorgeous piece of art that inspired half of this tale and THEN the un-be-fucking-lievable illustration for the story itself. You guys are the best people on earth, and I seriously would not have gotten through this without you. <3

———-

Oops we did it again? Or, more precisely, it turned out that Gyzym had started writing a fic and I was arting the Budapest art on the side at the same time, so we flailed at the braintwining, and talked about our Clint/Natasha emotions, and I saw her wonderful and complex story grows, and felt all the feels, and I just had to art something about it in the end. Again, I feel immensely privileged to see it happening in front of my eyes, it makes me giddy, and this is my humble contribution to her epicness. <3

I’m only halfway through but I had to pause and reblog this because y’all are just casually ripping my heart out, sob sob.