#aint no way that shit didn’t scar

[cringemesstickles]

Um. The urge to write an angsty fic about the scar on Sam’s hand from the Hallucifer thing???

[joels6string]

More Than My Father's Son

Joel Miller x f!OC

Chapter 12 - My Brother Joel

Summary: Tommy and Joel head on the road for a doomed mission to find you in the Utah wilderness, dead, alive, or infected.

Rating: E

Word Count: 3.6k

Content: NSFW, high levels of violence normal to the TLOU world, angst, fluff, miscommunication trope (it’s Joel Miller…), slow burn, Joel’s traumatic childhood, getting together, smut, canon divergence after SLC, fix it fic

“Maybe you should have told her! Maybe if you didn’t fuckin’ lie to her she never woulda left! You ever imagine that, Joel? What your life could be like if you were honest for once? You’d be wakin’ up to her in your damn bed instead of being out here in mourning!”

Chapter 11 || Series Masterlist

My brother is many things. 

He’s played as many roles as there is, taking each one onto a pair of shoulders that should have buckled from the pressure years ago. I’ve seen him through the hardest days of his life. The high school graduation pop couldn’t be bothered to attend. The day he found out he was gonna be a daddy before he could legally drink a beer. He called me when Rebecca left him with nothing but a note, Sarah still tucked up in a crib alone in that shit-hole apartment he scrounged over three jobs to keep. He was crying that day, not for the loss of the woman he’d made his wife outta nothing but obligation,  but for the little blonde-haired girl nestled fast asleep against his chest. See, he didn’t think he could raise her. Said he wasn’t fit for it. But I knew better. He raised me, and I think I turned out all right. 

And raise her he did. That girl lived the best life he could give her, he didn’t care what it cost. He built a business, bought a house, nurtured a daughter that he swore could save the world one day, and I bet she would have. He never complained. Sure, about not having money sometimes, or losing jobs to the bigger guys, but he never wanted anything different, he didn’t wish for something else. 

When Sarah died, so did he. Who could blame him? I carried the guilt of leaving him in Boston from the moment I stepped outta that apartment. I just couldn’t watch him waste away. It was selfish, I know that. But seeing my brother–my goddamn hero–turn into everything he stood against wasn’t something I could do. I tried to pull him back, but the man’s more stubborn than a mule. So I just prayed he’d find his way back, not for me, but for himself. For Sarah. For the man I always knew he was and the one he deserved to be.

Then he shows up some decade and a half later, gray hair, wrinkles around his eyes, scarred like you wouldn’t believe. And damn if he didn’t feel like he’d taken some of himself back. He had Ellie, who I owe my life for what she did for him. I don’t think she knows the extent of that gratitude and I don’t plan to tell her, she don’t need that burden. He loves that girl like his own and so do I. That’s all that matters.

But then there’s her. Millie. All fire and sheer will, if she wasn’t on our side I’d be terrified of her. And god damn does he love that woman. He thinks I can’t tell, but I’ve been watching him practically my whole life, hell, tryin’ to be him, I know. Joel’s a man that would give you the shirt off his back if you needed it, but he aint’ one to share what goes on his head. That’s for him to deal with and no one else. He’s a locked box, walled up behind heavily guarded gates, always has been, but with her? It’s all right there on his sleeve for the world to see. Something tells me she knows more about him than most, and I don’t think he needed to speak a damn word for her to figure it out neither.

I don’t know what happened that night of the storm. At this point, I don’t know if I ever will. But something changed. 

I knew about Millie, what happened to her. Maria and I...we’d made the call to keep it from him as long as we could. He’d have run off, never to be seen again, I ain’t stupid. I didn’t know what to do. How do you tell someone who's been through hell enough times it shoulda killed him that his one good thing was gone? I couldn’t do it. Not after I’d seen him for the first time in over 20 years. He was smiling again. Strumming on a guitar. Writing songs. Hell, I had him sketching blueprints; he was Joel again. Maybe it was selfish. I wanted to prolong it, keep him around for as long as I could before the inevitable. 

And here we are. At the inevitable.

I might as well be riding through these trails alone. He’s silent, it’s like a god damn funeral march. But in reality I guess it is. I’ve contemplated turnin’ around, forcing him back to the life he’s gonna have to face living here eventually. But I can’t. See, the thing is that through all he’s lost, he’s never once gotten the chance to mourn. There was always something else. I think maybe he needs these quiet weeks on the road, and I’ll keep him alive while he’s out here, going through whatever it is he needs to go through. 

There’s no way we find her. It’s too much land, too many possibilities, it’s been too long; seven weeks by the time we get to the last place she was seen. For her sake I hope it was quick, and for his I hope it ain’t like Eugene said. If he’s gotta put a bullet in her head, even like that, I don’t see a path back. 

We’ve come across a few straggler infected, and his face breaks my heart every time. The fear he’ll see her snarling and deformed, I can’t take it anymore. The way his eyes beg for recognition to end the ache in his chest and for the chance to keep hope alive all the same. 

The way he kills them is damn near barbaric. Every swing of that blade an attempt to collect the debt he feels he’s owed. He’s still swinging long after they’re dead and gone, thankfully he’s smart enough to not waste our ammo. I pray we don’t come across any hunters on this trip. The runners I can watch be torn to shreds, I ain’t so sure I can watch him do that to a man again. I’ve had more than my share of that.

Everyday he’s closer to the god damn edge and I’m just waiting for him to fall. It’s bound to happen. Every night he sits by the fire sharpening that damn machete, sometimes gone dull from whatever poor unfortunate soul we encountered, other times he takes it out on a tree, an old rundown house, whatever he can find. I let him have at it, keeping an eye that the desperate crying he does when he thinks he’s alone doesn’t attract anyone or anything. It did once, shot it right between the eyes. I was proud of that one. 

We’re set to reach the last place she was seen today, I’m mentally gearing up. Reckon it won’t be pretty. I don’t know where it goes from there. I don’t know if I want to either. 

********

“I’m goin’ to look around,” Joel announced before his boots even hit the cement of the old garage, the first words he’d spoken since a grunt of acknowledgement that morning.

“Joel,” Tommy called quickly, “I should come with you.”

“Stay with the horses.”

“Joel!”

But he was already gone. It was a calm, February night, the sky clear as the setting sun cast a hazy, gray light over the untouched snow. Untouched. Not a print in sight, not even a damn rabbit. He should have checked the houses, but something had told him it was useless. You weren’t here. You hadn’t been here in months. Months. The time that had lapsed between you vanishing without a trace and his arrival made him sick to his stomach. He should have been here. He should have stopped you from leaving. He should have fought. 

The sound of the rushing river marked the spot where your tracks had stopped. This was the last place you were known to have been. It felt like a fucking burial site. He couldn’t do anything in the dark, so he stood and watched the water run by, the force of it surprising for its lack of depth. Jagged rocks jut out of the white capping current, the barren skeletons of the trees reaching up to the heavens he could no longer believe in. 

As the sound lulled him into whatever semblance of tranquility he could find, he wondered how you made it across. It was too wide to jump and too fast to bridge with something as simple as a log, but the rocks could provide a path if traveled carefully. But you were sick. Coughing, a fever seizing up your already ice-cold body, you wouldn’t have the dexterity…

He took off in a sprint back to the house, slamming open the front door hard enough it had Tommy reaching for his gun from where he sat on the floor. 

“Jesus Christ. Joel!” Tommy scolded, throwing the shotgun back down with a heavy thud, “I coulda shot you.”

“Down the river,” Joel panted, lungs and throat burning, “Tracks stopped at the bank. It’s too fast. Down the river…”

With numb fingers, Tommy pulled out the map, tracing north until the river opened to a lake. It was miles away, but not more than a day's travel. 

“Tell me what you wanna do,” Tommy offered, “Straight shot to where it dumps off?”

“Yeah…” Joel muttered, his mind racing against the light of optimism threatening to banish the darkness of reality. 

“Alright then, first light. Sit and eat.”

It would be a miracle if you survived that trip, but it wasn’t impossible. He’d done it, sort of, and that was the catch. He’d had Henry to pull him out, you were alone. But maybe you’d maneuvered well enough to avoid crashing into a rock head first. Or maybe this was all just fucking delusion.

There was no chance of sleep, he just paced, muttering incoherently under his breath about the chance this worked. It was low, and he hated how hard it was to convince himself of that. Back in Jackson as he and Tommy had readied to leave, he saddled up your horse. At the time he’d said in case they found you, you’d be thrilled, you loved that damn animal. But in reality it was just one of the few pieces of you he had left. Bill would be his from now on, maybe he’d even try and replicate those ridiculous biscuits you insisted on making for him. 

“You sleep at all?” Tommy asked, still groggy as he lifted himself onto his elbows with a groan.

“A bit,” Joel lied, the barrel of his shotgun shining after two hours of polishing. 

“When’d you become so shit at lyin’?”

Probably when he lost it all because of it. 

“Let’s go,” Joel snapped, leaping to his feet and grabbing his pack already ready by the door, “Eat on the way.”

Hours turned into days, and on day three of ice cold conditions, searching through trees and caves, and too many close calls with frostbite, Tommy stepped in. An arm across Joel’s chest kept him upright as Tommy pinned him against an oak, his head shaking in denial and defiance as he deflected the reality staring him in the face. You were gone. There was no finding you, there was no closure, no last chance to count the freckles on your face or memorize the warm shade of your hair. There was nothing. Just snow and haunting silence beneath his brother’s sympathetic gaze.

“I know you loved her,” Tommy finally found the opening to say it, “And maybe if you admitted that it would help you…move on.”

“Move on!?” Joel roared, finding the strength to shove his brother off of him, “Move on from what? What the hell do I have to move on from? Huh? I got nothin’! Cause you sent her away!”

“I ain’t doin’ this again…”

“You let your wife send her away–”

“Maybe you should have told her! Maybe if you didn’t fuckin’ lie to her she never woulda left! You ever imagine that, Joel? What your life could be like if you were honest for once? You’d be wakin’ up to her in your damn bed instead of being out here in mourning!”

The snow softened Tommy’s landing as Joel’s shoulder slammed into his stomach and sent him flying to the ground, a lucky knee to Joel’s stomach giving Tommy enough time to scramble back and right himself with enough distance to avoid another attack. 

“You think about Ellie waitin’ for you to come home,” Tommy cautioned, “Before you do something stupid. You got amends to make with her before this happens all over again.”

“Shut your fuckin’ mouth.” This was not the time for principled speeches.

“Have you learned nothin’?!”

“I said shut your god damn mouth, boy!”

“Go take a walk! You need one. Then we’re fuckin’ leaving, and goin’ home.”

Once he was out of Tommy’s line of sight, he collapsed. The sun was going down, the distorted orb reflecting on the surface like flames, no doubt Tommy would be bringing them back to that house tonight for rest indoors before the long journey home. Maybe the ghost of you walked inbetween the walls, or were you out wandering this barren wasteland always trying to find your way home. He’d done this. The knowledge of that fact had been there all along, but it had taken Tommy screaming it at him for it to batter against the forefront of his mind. He did this. If he hadn’t lied to you it was unlikely you’d have volunteered. After you’d confronted him he should have fought, he should have been slamming his fist against your door begging for you to forgive him, unleashing every single one of his ugly truths when you let him inside to beg for one last chance. But he hadn’t. And now you were gone.

“Hey there, stranger,” a strange voice greeted that had the hair prickling on the back of Joel’s neck, “Haven’t seen you around here before.”

Joel remained silent, wracking his brain for a way to pull the revolver from the waist of jeans without being seen.

“What brings you out this way?” the voice continued, it was too friendly, too decent…

“Sightseein’,” Joel finally lied, keeping his eyes straight forward.

“Don’t see many people doing that these days.”

He didn’t need to see it to know it was there, the rifle pointed right at the back of his head. This wasn’t a bad view if were the last thing he would see. 

“Why don’t you just get on with it?” Joel finally asked, resigning to his fate with almost a sense of relief.

“Hey!” Tommy was yelling, Joel could see him sprinting over, shotgun raised. It was like he didn’t know that thing was shit at a distance and his brain would be sprayed across the snow faster than Tommy could load another set of shells, “Put the fuckin’ gun down!”

“You boys from Texas?” the stranger asked, Joel sighing in frustration at the game this man was playing, remaining silent as he gnashed his teeth together.

“Way back when,” Tommy answered, earning a stony look from his brother. He never knew when to keep his mouth shut.

“So, which one of you is Joel?”

“Who the hell are you?”

Ice ran through Joel’s veins at the sound of his name. He wasn’t unaware of where he was; at the present he was closer to Salt Lake City than home, a city that had his stomach churning. For as many as he’d slaughtered, he knew some got away with full knowledge of who he was and what he’d smuggled out of that hospital. One wrong move and Ellie’s location was no longer safe, one slip of the tongue, one wrong look.

He’d destroyed the Fireflies, singlehandedly. There were a few small factions scattered about, but their cause was all but destroyed thanks to him. Without a cure on the horizon, they had nothing left to hope for, nothing to work towards. They could join the rest of what was left of society, hopeless and dejected. 

“You let my brother go,” Joel finally bargained, “And I’ll go with you.”

“Joel what the hell is goin’ on?” Tommy was panicking now, “You ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

“Let him go.”

Now he was turning, finding a man in his 70s holding the rifle he’d already known was there. Suddenly this became less urgent, he could see the man’s hands trembling and a flicker of fear in his eye. At least Joel’s reputation was still intact. With one quick lunge he could have him round the knees, the rifle loosening enough from those gnarled fingers that Joel could add it to his own arsenal. 

“I don’t want any trouble,” the man finally surrendered, “Just heard a lot about you.”

“From?” Joel growled, uncaring now of what might happen as he snuck his hand to the small of his back, finding the trusty weapon its usual spot.

“People passing through. I wasn’t expecting you, but my wife has a way of knowing things. She thought you’d turn up. And here you are.”

Tommy and Joel shared a look, had this man encountered Eugene and Paulie at some point? It was far off their course, there was no way they’d stumbled into him. There was something else he knew, something that had Joel’s heart thudding in his chest.

“Why don’t you come back with me, get a hot meal and good night’s sleep,” the man offered, “We don’t have much in the way of beds, but it’s warm and you look like you haven’t felt a fire in days.”

“You got a name?” Joel inquired, still wary, but the sirens in his head had stopped blaring.

“Oh. Where are my manners? Corbin. Nice to meet you Joel and…” he dragged out, looking over at Tommy.

“Tommy,” the younger Miller introduced, holding his hand out first for a shake, a silent promise that all that was said was true, both men nodding at the implications as they gripped the other.

It was a short ride, about an hour, back to Corbin’s, the property evident from a distance as the smoke from the chimney plumed up into the dusk sky. Joel’s despair had returned, the knowledge that in the morning he and Tommy would be on their way back to Wyoming alone and without closure. Where did he go from here? 

“Joel,” Tommy sounded from beside him, “I didn’t mean what I said. This ain’t your fault. None of it. I shoulda fought harder–”

“It is my fault.” Saying it hurt. Saying it opened up the mouth of the beast waiting to swallow him. 

“It’s just up ahead,” Corbin interrupted, the small farmhouse coming into view, heavily fenced and secure.

“Quite the place you got here,” Joel admired, a fond smile settling on his face as he recalled a man with similar barriers, and for a second he wondered just how old Bill was doing. It had crossed his mind to head back out East and get him, bring him to the safe haven of Jackson, but something told him Bill liked the fight and would prefer to go down swinging anyway.

“Horses can go in the barn,” their host instructed as he hopped down to open the gate, “I’m sure some dinner is already going.”

“Appreciate it.”

The house was warm, a fire roaring in the hearth as the three men stepped inside, Corbin calling for his wife, Lee, who rounded into the room in an apron. It felt almost dystopian. 

“Oh!” She exclaimed, the sitcom feel of this moment had Joel’s eyebrows furrowing, “More stragglers, Cor?”

“Yeah,” Corbin replied, smiling, “We got Tommy, and that one there, is Joel.”

“Oh… Joel.”

“Mhmm.”

“Why do you all act like you know me?” Joel snapped, now it was grating, now he was panicking, this felt off. He knew what kind of people lurked about, cannibals and religious zealots, he cursed himself for leaving his weapons with the horse. 

“Easy now,” Tommy warned, ticking his head down for Joel to see that Tommy hadn’t been as foolish as he had, his pistol still tucked into the holster at his hip, “Ma’am, it’s nice to meet you. Thank you for…your hospitality.”

“Well, I’m just glad you’re here,” Lee replied, “I’ll go throw a little bit more into the stew. Take a seat.”

Neither man obliged, even as Corbin rounded the old blue couch and collapsed. The house was like a relic of the 80s, gaudy florals in bold colors, angels and religious statues on the shelves surrounded by bibles and books. Even an old box TV still sat in the corner despite the lack of electricity. As Joel looked around, he saw the a medical degree hanging in a frame, Corbin’s, and family photos of who he assumed were their two hosts and their children. He hated how much of it reminded him of the house he and Tommy had grown up in, even down to the wood paneling on the walls. 

Muffled talking could be heard in the kitchen, a door to what must have been a basement slamming shut. A third? Now Joel wanted that gun, it was just out of reach but Corbin was already half asleep on the couch. The footsteps grew closer, he could see the shadow against the floor approaching, his senses blaring as he took a small step in front of Tommy, his arm lifting slightly to shield him from whoever it was about to make face.

“Corbin, did you–” 

“Well I’ll be damned,” Tommy whispered under his breath as the unidentified person rounded into the room.

“Joel?” 

Chapter 13 (There's a tag list now if you prefer that!)

Art as always by @natendo-art 😭🩵

[mollyolikeme]

NATLA

my reactions to the netflix adaptation baby!

it's long-winded as hell!

and also just a stream of consciousness, BEWARE.

Ep1

good start. 

beautiful bending. way to go animator team or cgi or like all those people that i don’t know their job title or descriptions but who have done a great job. (big step up from the adaptation we shan’t name!) 

really being like, 'this aint your fun kids show' outta the gate with the burning people alive multiple times in a row, but sure. 

katara shoulda been pissed and broke the glacier but fine i guess

v cool symbols within the arrow

weep for gyatso. beautiful representation. upsetting visuals.

‘relatively’ painless first ep changes, i enjoyed myself! 

Ep2

sticky rice. perfect.

Kyoshi warrior make-up????? AHHHHHH IT IS BEAUTIFUL and PERFECT! Suki is gorg!

YES AIR SCOOTER 

kayyyyy but we don't need to make suki weird and awkward around sokka just because he's 'no longer sexist' (or whatever we wanna call that choice) and they need some reason to interact. why not ‘hey we’re both hot, lets flirt’

the warriors training is beautiful 

what if, we were training, and we looked in each others eyes, then we kissed *giggle giggle giggle*

Its giving, ‘I knew i shouldn't have asked kyoshi’ lololol

stealing roku’s thunder…….i’ll forgive it because Kyoshi absolutely KILLED! (and she’s a giant. we love)

kay this Zhao works, Ken is turning it out. His crazy energy is on display.

Ep3

no need to give us rebels within the fire nation. literally no point at this time in the story. we just entered this world, there can be one bad side without getting into the grey yet. leave it.

is that who? or is it? can it be?

jet intro woooooork

CABBAGES!

tao is SO SERIOUS. a bit much

the mechanist by our boy Danny pudi is decent 

azula mai ty-lee. DOES NOT EXIST TO MINE EYES

holy fuck TOO MANY PLOTS and CHARACTERS like RELAX. (why are they all in this episode?)

jet doing jet tho. his hair is soooooooo fluffy haha

fuck it up zuko aang fight. boots the house down with that fight choreo! THE SCARVES?!Love!!!

Ep4

Bumi being angry at aang WHY? No fucking need for that. 

unnecessarily convoluted bumi. it’s like they wanna change plot and character, just to change plot and character? it doesn’t work and it makes them look bad (the writers)

bumi plot didn’t need to go down like that 

to take the cave of two lovers out of season two. why?

the minstrels are lovely, i like them, good job actors yay! 

separating story lines though… makes us miss out on gems like ‘no one react, but i think that kid is the avatar’ BIG LOSS

pretty story of omashu animation, holding to the roots in the og episode. as they should 

Give one of the earth benders who captures Iroh a full on new backstory why?

iroh backstory, well done. leaves from the vine music?????? tear jerk reaction is instant.

bumi bumi bumi smh…... see above. 

dawwwwww our scarred boy. uncle is here for you.

Ep5 

Should we name an episode spirited away? ……….    ._.

Why does aang automatically know the lost villagers are in the spirit world? He doesnt really know that shit yet so…… 

NO AZULA IN SEASON ONE. GTFO. Why give her a fucking monologue to her father advising him on the war without being asked and then he snaps at her for kissing ass!? And defends zuko? Mf hates zuko! And now azula has a story arc about being constantly compared to zuko? Thats fucking backwards BITCH. if this plot line sticks imma burst into flames and set the writers on fire with my burning body.

Also lay off on the serious serious tone dumb fucks. 

kid who plays zuko gets it. whine whine whine.

Why bring sokka and katara to the spirit world? You split them up during other adventures but when he’s doing the things that are legitimate avatar duties, they come along….. 

Arden Cho can do NO WRONG. My love. 

THE KNOWLEDGE SPIRIT NOW!?! WTF are you doing!? Embarrassing. 

TOO EARLY FOR AZULA! And mai and ty-lee are cardboard!?!?! WHY???

Paul as Iroh is correct. 100% correct. Kid who plays zuko (dallas?) has been v good. 

Heibai looks slay. 

VERY STUPID THAT YUE GOES TO THE SPIRIT WORLD AS A THREE TAILED FOX. OMG. (i spoiled my self for that kinda but also its obvious and bad) 

Kay we're gonna skip bato of the water tribe I guess. 

Adding conflict with Hakoda and sokka for what reason? honestly curious. 

Doing katara’s story with her mom early is fine. its v heartbreaking and well done.

Why Koh now? Why add to that plot line? Changing the way Koh works with the fog?….. 

koh design though? AMAZING. TERRIFYING.

Also instead of LIGHT filler episodes they go SAD filler……  -_-

ooop. gyatso! okay…. i guess. that’s alright.

Ep6 

Not Iroh’s bun! how dare you archers?!

'he cares too much' okay caring about whether a soldier's life is lost is not too much.... but alright.

How many more times you think they could fit the phrase ‘saving the world’ into this adaptation?

Honest question. What was this latest attempt at an atla adaptation’s goal for the overarching message for this season based on their changes? like.... hmmmmm?

what is on the firebenders soldiers hands? anyone? i haven't looked close enough or paused it to see.

the blue spirit mask is perfect. if they got that wrong i would have thrown up

blue spirit escape on point!

lol zuko *slaps aangs hand away*

first fun goofy, non directly plot driving convo between zuko and aang for about two seconds this episode. about damn time.

lol every episode having a voice over, like why.

koh would not be giving people back though. facts.

good zuko backstory. hits the feels just right. curious, they have been leaving this arc as is more than all the other arcs…… is it per chance, perhaps, mayhaps because zuko’s character journey is one for the history books and is as close to perfection that any story teller can hope for? hm? maybe? YOU THINK?! 

Ep7

team avatar should be sokka's line....

aang has yet to water bend..........

NOOOO NO NO NO NO NO so dirty they did Yue SO dirty. 

enough Azula plot. just stop. it's embarrassing to attempt to change this. she hasn’t HIT as a character at all. Theres no punch. VERY embarrassing. and Mai and ty-lee are CARICATURES of themselves. 

your 'the one’ what azula? that makes no sense. 

Yue is a bender?.......

yue fox bullshit is stupid. sorry not sorry. not that she could go to the spirit world but that they teased her early in the first place. it’s not interesting or new just taking the whole swamp ep and revamping it for this season.

'wise to focus on your training during the journey'???? from what teacher was he gonna learn MF?! are you fucking dumb? 

aang Keeps. On. Saying. 'i need help' but the fucking master water bender isn't like 'yo, lets get training right away!’ …..where am i!? 

don't rewrite the koi fish. DO NOT REWRITE THE KOI FISH.

unforgiveable wig. 

'boy of my dreams' bitch you had one dream. (yea you have a connection or whatever but ew. don’t say that)

WHY HASN’T AANG WATERBENDED YET! 

take sokka's sexism out but AMP the northern water tribes sexism up to 1000% ??? WHY? 

Bad bad bad bad bad. do not have aang tell katara not to fight. that is fucking stupid. SUCH WEIRD DECISIONS. GUYS. netflix writers. please. fucking RELENT! stop fucking with magic. 

LOL Iroh and zuko are my biggest highlight. easily. 

'my plan? my plan is to reclaim whats mine!’  ‘so no plan then?’ HA!

get azula and firelord plot OUT of here! FUCK OFF. i get it. i get they are good characters. great characters! and you wanna write them. but for the love of all story telling, you are going to burn yourselves out of plot too soon and then just start dishing out trash as if its a meal. i won’t eat your trash. I’m telling you now. 

Daniel dae kim is good shit. (still wish he wasn't in the season but he's got the energy. and i love him) 

YES Katara's hair during the Pakku fight. that's on point. 

LET. KATARA. BE. ANGRY.

Good little scene about family at the end there. very cute scene and dialogue.

final ep!

do not name it legends. just. yuck.

to bring the blimp in during the war of the northern water tribe? kayyyyy. i'll allow it.

pakku gave crumbs to the women......

cuuuute the young water benders reporting to Katara and calling her master. i like that a lot.

I'm sorry ICE MOON??? (is this a real thing that i don’t know about or did they make it up? AITA)

one night in the physical world? noooooooooooooo. nope thats actually incorrect. your welcome for the correction. (odd detail to change in the first place. maybe someone has a better reason why they would do that? no?) 

why the fuck would you hurt momo?

amazing round doors. love. love. love the sets.

beautiful oasis. crushed that.

BEAUTIFUL scene design, costume design, make-up and hair artists, and overall art department! Fucking Killed It! They're the real heroes! 

zuko and iroh having the most word for word lines as any other characters, can't mess with fucking iconic bitches!

VERY excellent colour effects when the moon spirit dies. 

im fine with Hahn not being a dick. dats cool.

silly to say that aang 'can't come back' from merging with the ocean spirit. was that a threat in our OG? No.

The ocean spirit looks good. that was fucking tough to do im sure.

no need to make it look like the firebenders can face the OCEAN SPIRIT. it's an easy battle for him not the puny humans.

good final war. they did it quite well. lovely atmosphere and intensity. the good stuff.

omg. you killed the teen and Hahn?! whu wha? 

yes, sorry… WHY on earth did Aang not bend a single GD drop of water?! why in gods name in vain?! who, who fucking decided that? WHO?!

LOL little Aang actor needing a tear stick (he’s using) 

'northern water tribe was never the target' how many times can you fucking say that. no one is THAT infinitely clever. you're not pulling the wool over their eyes. one fight happened in one location and one in another, no one can ever be everywhere at once so…….. enough with the smug.

why have azula take omashu now? because they are giving azula plot early for no reason and because they are gonna fuck with ba sing se? literally fuck off. 

STOP stealing shit from other episodes, the calendar is in the library. season two. same with the knowledge spirit. if you didn’t know. 

okay done! (overall, a lot of good work went into this by people who i’m sure cared a lot. but no one should be surprised when everyone gives their harshest critique. source material with a steadfast fandom my loves. you had it coming <3) 

[sophie-i-guess13]

Some Photos By A Dumb Hood

based on this headcanon <3

words : 1381

genre : tooth-rotting fluff, proceed with caution

characters: Curly, Angela, Tim Shepard, Sylvia Jackson-Merrill, Buck Merrill, Ponyboy Curtis, Dallas WInston

Tw : N/A

tag!  - @mjmacchio1991 @pepsi-and-cigarettes @the-kneesbees @ralphmaccchiato  @patrickslayze @outsiderslamb @frypansgirl  @unorginalchocolatemilk @jackettslut @johnnycadesjeanjacket @james-fucking-hates-dallas

{honourable mentions: @rumble-aint-a-rumble-without-me @mysemantics @xosunshiine] Ask to be added / taken off :)

May 23, 1968

Hey, Mr. Syme. Bet you didn’t think I’d make it this far, did you? It’s okay if you didn’t, you wouldn’t be the only one. Since this is the last assignment I’ll ever hand into you (as if I actually did all those other assignments), I felt like doing something a little different. You suprised yet old man, dumb hood like me doing something original for once? You better be. The photos I’m talking about are in the envelope stuck to the back if you felt like looking at them. Sorry in advance for all the cursing and shit, but you’re probably used to that by now. Thanks for not giving up on me. Tim really appreciates it.

                                 Some Photos by A Dumb Hood 

                                                C. Shepard

I. Sleeping Beauty This is Tim. He’s asleep in the living room, The Twilight Zone was playing on the television when I snuck in past curfew. You taught him a few years ago, if you remember him. He didn’t show up a ton in your class, but that’s just because he was taking care of me and my sister like he’s doing right here. Ignore the stains on the sofa, those are from our folks. Tim doesn’t say he worries about us – or at least he doesn’t say he worries about me. I know he does, though. He complains all the time about how uncomfortable the sofa is every time he falls asleep on it, but he’ll sit there all night if he has to, making sure I get home okay. I’ve never been a great kid. I’ve done, and still do, a lot of stupid shit. I know it makes him worry – only twenty-one and he’s already going gray. But you didn’t hear that from me, man, I’d like to keep my teeth.

II. Ain’t Vanity A Sin? Angela’s about as spoiled as a girl on the east side can be. Joys of being the baby sister, I guess. All she’s gotta do is bat those damn lashes, and she’s got half us guys bending over backwards for her. I can’t remember the first time she left the house with all that makeup on, but Tim was just about as white as the sheets he was airing out on the clothesline outside. He had a long talk with her when she came home - about how even if she looks sixteen, seventeen, maybe even eighteen, she sure as hell ain’t old enough to be doing all the things the other girls are. I told her guys are gross when Tim left her room. She said she already knew that, since she lives with two of ‘em. She was having a meltdown tryna get her eyeliner right in this photo. Took it right before she gave up and asked me to draw the other one. I don’t think she’ll ever ask for my help with make-up again after that.

III. Making Friends + Breaking Bones I broke my arm when I was fourteen, this was the telephone pole that did the damage. It didn’t fall on me or anything, I was tryna show off to Ponyboy Curtis and tried to climb it. I’ve broken plenty of bones (not all were mine), but that hurt the worst. Having the wind knocked outta you when you hit the ground? Jesus Christ, that was a whole different kind of pain. I’m damn lucky Pony’s in track, he ran the whole way back to my house and told Tim what happened. We went over to the Curtises afterwards, all so that their momma could tell me it was too broken to be mended at home. I think this is when Tim stopped coming to school; he had to work pretty hard to pay off all those hospital bills. Ponyboy and I got to talking a lot after that, did a few more stupid stunts together. That’s where he got that scar on his hand, actually, we were playing chicken with our cigarettes. He’s heading off to university this fall. I’m proud of him. All us east siders are. You must be, too. It’s your assignment that made him write that essay after all.

IV. The Yankee I got this picture after a Rumble. I meant to get a picture of Ang and Tim playing nurse to the rest of our gang, but there’s someone else in the left corner, on the couch with a bag of frozen peas to his black eye. That’s Dally. You know about him, that one kid that got shot by the cops after Bob Sheldon died. Tim would die before he ever called Dally a friend, and I’m sure Winston felt the same. I did like him though, and wanted him to like me too. Came all the way from New York, with nothing but a jacket, switchblade, ring and necklace. I tried taking it once, he almost beat me to death in my own front yard. I’m sure Dallas would've killed me if it weren’t for Tim getting between us and calling me a stupid kid who got dropped too many times to know any better. We fought a lot, though nothing ever got as physical as that first one. I don’t think he hated me, even if he said he did. Hell, he’s saved my ass more times than I can count. It’s been three years already, and it still feels weird knowing I’ll never wake up to him on the couch again.

V. Good Morning To You, Too This is Sylvia, Tim’s best friend and Dally’s ex-girlfriend. Before you ask, yes, they’ve gotten into plenty fights over her. She and Angela share a room the nights she comes over. To be honest, I think she’s spent more nights at my place than she has her own. She was screaming like a banshee after I took this, even chased me down the stairs. She’d gone out with some friends the night before, and it was obvious because of the makeup caked under her eyes and how messy her hair was. She lives with us now, her and her daughter, Loretta. After graduation she was seeing this guy, even got an apartment with him. It didn’t last very long though, once he started taking her money and never paying her back. Tim went over one night after she bailed him out and told her the house was always open if she needed it. It’s a little cramped now, but I don’t mind. I got my own room now, Tim took our parents’, and the girls all share since Lori’s crib doesn’t take up much space.

VI. Us East Siders This is the whole clan- Sylvia’s cousin, Buck Merrill, included. The first nice day of May felt like something to celebrate, so we spent the day outside. Tim and me did some handiwork on the house, like cleaning out the gutters and fixing some shingles while Ang and Syl painted their nails and got a head start on their tans. Buck even brought over a shitty little paddling pool for Lori, borrowed the neighbor’s hose to fill it up for her. We all really love that kid. I got this picture once the sun was beginning to set and we were getting ready to call it a night. Saturday nights always mean dinner at the Dingo, after all. You’ve taught just about every kid in this picture, haven’t you, Syme? Bet they must look mighty different. Tim didn’t have that scar, and Syl didn’t have a baby on her lap. I don’t think Angela had her hair cut short, either. But that’s us, I guess, Buck and Tim in the back, wiping sweat off their faces, the girls sitting on the first step. I’ve got plenty of photos of them, but this has gotta be my favorite. Probably because they’re all smiling.

That’s it, huh? The big final English assignment of my senior year. Thanks for being a decent teacher, Syme, I know I didn’t make it easy for you. I’ll see you around, though. You’ll probably be teaching Angela next year (good fucking luck man, you’ll need it), and I know I’m not headed off to college come September. I’m a dumb hood, remember? One that can take some decent fucking pictures, though.

[zodiacrant]

🍩My experiences with each Moon sign🍩

(Cause yall are messy)

I have done this a few times before but for Sun signs and did rank placements but never shared my thoughts and experiences with the Moon signs.

Now I know how this goes, so if you get mad or sad then go off I guess. Aint the first time I get cursed out or attacked in this bitch. Plus, I am a Cap moon so naturally I won’t do well with some Moons and I will be nitpicking everything about everyone.

🍩Aries Moon🍩

My dad’s moon. Yup, that tells you alot without me even starting. Having our Moons in Square shit was hard to say the least. It took a long time for us to be on middle grounds and because I don’t feel comfortable talking about my problems here I will continue on. The Aries Moon that I really like and can think of is Rihanna, so I would say it’s unfair to make a whole judgment but from what I saw and heard they’re not exactly the best to be around. So I give them a 3/10 for being bold and having nerve.

🍩Taurus Moon🍩

Now this Moon right here I know people from ( a close friend and my sister, plus some others) and I don’t have many strong opinions about it. As a Taurus Sun, it can be a challenge to work with a Taurus Moon. I am stubborn at my core and they’re stubborn with their heart, so everytime we disagree it’s like a rope pulling contest. Way too stagnant for me but I think that’s because of my other placements and they don’t take any advice or open up no matter what. On to the good, I never disliked someone with this placement. No matter how much of an asshole they can be, to me it is difficult to hate them or stay mad at them. They’re warm, kind, and sweet but a bit aloof and naive, also they don’t like to touch and hug as some people might think. I will give them a 8/10

🍩Gemini Moon🍩

(⚠️TW⚠️ mention of rape and erratic behavior)

I only had one best friend with this placement and I don’t I want to meet any more, and I am at peace with that if they resemble her in any way. She was a maniac. She loved to lie, create drama, blow shit up, act crazy and basically be shocking. I do find similarities with Gemini Sun where they do shit for reactions but with her, she will take it to the next level. Lie about being raped, act possessed, or pretend that she is being followed. It’s not fair to associate her with people who share the same Moon as her but that was y’all’s representation in my life. She was erratic so it’s difficult to see where her Moon was in effect and where she was just off. I’ll give them a 1/10, would not recommend until proven otherwise.

🍩Cancer Moon🍩

The first that comes to my mind is Taylor Swift and to me she is the ultimate Cancer Moon. It juat makes sense how fast she takes it to the next level with people. Whether getting serious quickly with someone or throwing down and feuding. She just always at a 100. Personally, I never got close with someone who has this placement, maybe it’s because I am a Capricorn Moon myself, but I would say the ones that I have met were nice. I’ll give them a 5/10

🍩Leo Moon🍩

I only had one best friend with this placement but the people I have met with this Moon I still remember. They all had one thing in common and that was being emotionally traumatized and have lost one parent. My best friend was super loyal, very confident in what they believed in and represented, were always there for me and had an amazing ability in motivating others. But they were also super prideful and there’s no coming back with them. Fight once and it’s over. (Yes I am looking at you Jonnie). One of the other people was with me in uni and always had the to urge won up me and my friend. He had scars all over and he doesn’t remember how he got them. But he was super proud of himself and his home country, which I respect and admire. I’ll give them a 6/10

🍩Virgo Moon🍩

I know two people with this placement, my mom and a professor at uni, and oh boy it makes sense that they’re a Virgo Moon. Me and my mom are too alike that we clash strongly at times. She thinks she can do it better and I think I can do it better and we just have like a competition on who done it better basically. From cooking, to how you light the stove, to how you put on clothes, to how you lay down on bed. Both my mom and my professor are super critical and precise, althogh my professor is a double Virgo (Sun and Moon) so she will go even further. They have to do everything as it arises and act like there’s no time and everything is about to go wrong. Like damn sis chill the fuck out for a sec and this is coming from a Cap moon so you know it’s bad. But I really like Virgo Moon, even though people might hate such a personality but I can relate to them in some ways. I’ll give them 7/10

🍩Libra Moon🍩

My only online friend that I talk to all the time got this Moon. Other than her I met only two people and they were something. Okay so for my friend, because I never actually have seen her physically with my own eyes I can’t say how she acts all the time, but she is one of the best listeners I had in my life. She likes to hear me ramble for an hour about a dumb encounter that lasted a second, talking about astrology and some nerdy things and then not so nerdy things. I believe that it’s a Libra Moon quality to be emotionally versatile and attentive. I think because she is a Leo dominant she acts much fiery and fiercely than a Libra would. As for the other people I just thought they were fake. One acted as a friend but then would just disappear so I was over it quickly and the other was super passive and pretentious that I think she shits out plastic. All in all I think it’s a great Moon. I’ll give them a 7/10

🍩Scorpio Moon🍩

One of the hardest Moons I ever delt with but I find that I love them too. My oldest sister had this Moon and she is such a mystery. Because I am a Taurus Sun, it is only natural for me to have a hard time with a Scorpio Moon. Even though she is an extrovert, she rarely talks about herself and her feelings, you will never catch her slipping or show vulnerability. I can see how difficult it may be for her being a Cancer with a Scorpio Moon and have Gemini dominance. But she’s a bitch at heart and I am cool with it. I’ll give them 5/10 cause I am not a big fan of paradoxical people

🍩Sagittarius Moon🍩

A moon that I always babysat. I had two best friends with this Moon and if I was born a second earlier, it would mine too. I don’t know if it’s because of my Gemini Venus or my 0 degree Capricorn Moon but I love Sagittarius Moons. I was fortunate to see some of their weaknesses and for them to trust me enough to be vulnerable. But boy do they get themselves into the dumbest situation because they wanted to see what would happen. I had to babysit them and help them do everything like shopping, cooking, cleaning, assembling furniture, be their body guard when buying weed. (Shhhh it’s a secret). They’re in many ways immature cause they run from things and everytime you try to be real with them, they say “stop being negative”. I’ll give them a 9/10

🍩Capricorn Moon🍩

The grande dame of the Moon signs, sitting at it’s opposite planet. I have met many Cap Moons and honestly we are bitches 😂. The energy of sitting next to a Capricorn Moon is too fucking much like I never knew it’s like that. I noticed the way they stare, talk, walk and sit can be so aggressive and intimidating. I see why people might label us as bullies, cause the energy is definitely there and I myself was such a cunt (still a little but I am more aware of myself now) that I get where both are coming from. Life as a Capricorn Moon is emotionally flat. If wasn’t for my other placements you will never see me even flinch. I think we just take everything and let it process in our head before we let it into our hearts. So to me, we’re not mean, we just don’t see how something might be hurtful. But also that tone and that blank face, goddam! That’s why I try to smile cause bitch no, I didn’t know I was walking with a death stare this whole time. Anyways, I will give us 10/10 cause I am self appreciative like that 😂✌️

🍩Aquarius Moon🍩

I have always tried to understand Aquarius Moon and it was only a month ago that I have realized they themselves are not sure of who they’re. I had one best friend with this placement and three cousins (all siblings). First, my cousins are super competitive with each other on who gets to do what and if it happens that they’re similar in something they will get pissed. The person that was my best friend was like that as well. Only he would drop a an entire hobby, interest, something close to his heart, shit even a personality trait. I find them to be constantly changing and trying, so they shift between one end of extreme to the other until they center themselves. I’ll give them a 4/10

🍩Pisces Moon🍩

Now let’s talk about a depressing placement, in my opinion of course 😅. I don’t know if it’s the influence of Neptune on the Moon or is it the just the demeanor of Pisces, but good god girl get a grip (they call this the five G’s). My youngest sister is a Pisces Moon, and as creative as she is, she is pessimistic and overly cynical. I mean I am all for being critical and real but looking at everything with jacked up black sprayed glasses is just too much for me. Other than my sister I don’t know any Pisces Moon very well but I had a few acquaintances. I noticed that they talked about a specific thing and that’s it. I have found them to be amazing at drawing, painting and have an incredible artistic sense. At times twisted and dark, but I love the art that comes with it. I’ll give them a 5/10

Here’s the tea. It’s Pisces season so remember I am sensitive right now, and also it’s my life and I wish I met someone as amazing as you might think you’re. (Maybe that was a little too aggressive)

Okay love you ❤️

[drakenology]

Yeah, My Boyfriend’s In A Band

guitarist!todoroki x fem!reader

summary: something straight outta wattpad! you go to a rock band’s concert and stand front row of the stage. The band’s vocalist /guitarist catches your eye and.. well, the rest is history! this is the story of how you first met.

author’s note: soooo.. how yall been? i kinda said fuck it to the schedule i made. why force myself to make content when I just can’t ya know? I’d much rather upload content when it’s at it’s best. so enjoy! I used some lyrics from some of my favorite rock songs for this, can you guess em? Also the art work above isn’t mine!

warnings: smut (duh.), drug use (weed), size kink, pinch of daddy kink, spitting, degradation

It was a hot Saturday night. You were all dressed up and excited to see your favorite heavy metal band the Diaspora play in your city. You were a huge fan, their posters adorned your bedroom walls. You’ve been a fan since they first came out as a cover band.

The members were all pretty fuckin cute, especially the band’s front man. Todoroki Shoto.

He was so handsome; black and red half and half hair, grey sullen eyes, the sexy scar on the left side of his face only adding to the edginess of his visage. His tattoos coated his left arm in a sleeve, his eyebrow pierced as well as his lower lip. He was fucking hot. Obviously not the kind of guy who would pay any attention to you right?

You threw on the Diaspora t-shirt you bought just weeks before the show and tied it in the back so it could be a little cropped and called your uber, frantically spraying perfume in a panic that you were going to be late to the concert. You ran outside, saying goodnight to your roommate as you rush out the door and jump into the car.

“Hey. I’m Shoto Todoroki and I’m the lead singer and guitarist for the band The Diaspora. Hope to see you guys at the show tonight at 8.” You hear as smoothe and sultry voice play over the radio.

You swoon and text some buddies who were also going to the show in excitement, the rush going straight to your brain in a haze as you blast some of their music in your headphones.

When you arrive to the stadium, you spot your best friend from highschool Nejire Hado. You two actually grew up together and even graduated together. It was like you two were sisters, inseparable since birth. Nejire saw you and waved excitedly, squealing with glee and motioned you to come to her spot in line.

“Y/N!!!! Over here!!” She yelled, causing you to run over and jump up and down with her.

“I can’t believe we’re finally here!” You say.

“Me either! Hey, did you hear? There’s rumor’s going around that their having an after party after the show! We have to go, Y/N please say yes.” Nejire rambled, clapping her hands with an inability to contain her excitement.

You look down at your shoes, unsure at first. What if you aren’t even allowed inside? It could be VIP only.

“Fuck it. Let’s go!” You say, causing Nejire to scream and laugh with joy.

Suddenly, the band’s security comes outside to greet the fans waiting to come inside for the show.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, please enter in a single fil-“ the poor guy couldn’t even finish his sentence before hundreds of eager fans rush past him and squeeze into the stadium doors, running as fast as the could to get to their seats.

Luckily for you and Nejire, you had front row tickets. Those days of refreshing the page for them as they sold out every second really paid off. You grab Nejire’s hand and run inside, elbowing and clawing your way through to your spot with your best friend by your side. The lights suddenly go dim and the crowd goes insane.

The show’s about to start. You heart seemed to float up into your throat as you stood sweating and nervous, Nejire screaming her head off and jumping up and down when the band came rising up from the bottom of the stage. Smoke covers them for a while until it clears and all you see is Todoroki standing above you, the real him finally being exposed to you as you gaze from the crowd.

He was even more handsome in person. Tonight he wore black jeans and a white band tank top ,showing off his muscular and tattooed arms. Chains hung on his hip and his boots as he propped his foot up on the amplifier in front of him.

“YOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!” He screamed into the mic, causing the crowd to scream impossibly louder. He smirked, causing you to feel woozy just seeing him look so smug, as if he knew the effects he had on his fans.

You could’ve died right there a happy woman as the band started to play their hit single, the gritty sound of the electric guitar sending chills up your spine as you and Nejire headbang and dance to the music. You sing along to the top of your lungs, watching as Todoroki owned the stage. You gaze up at him again to see something completely and utterly unbelievable.

He was looking right at you.

You gasp, your eyes widening as you lock eyes with him. Shoto kneeled down towards you and reached his hand out to you. You almost scream and grab his tattooed hand with both of your own and smile at him, keeping your eyes focused on his. Shoto took your hand and kissed it as he sang a pretty racy part of his song to you,

“I wanna take you home.” (sleeping with sirens fans?? your nickle aint worth my dime???? NO?)

Oh. My. God

“OH MY FUCKING GOD! Y/N, HE-“ Nejire screamed, just as excited as you. You stood there shocked and flustered, staring into space. Todoroki fucking Shoto just kissed your hand. Shoto smirked and let your hand go, continuing the rest of his show in hopes you got the message. He wanted you. It was common sense that you go to the afterparty now.

The show continued for another 2 hours, Todoroki now dripping in sweat from the hot lights shining upon him and his band.

“Thank you all so much for coming out. For those invited, I’ll see you all at the afterparty! Goodnight everyone!” Todoroki bellowed to the crowd, causing them to cheer him and the band off the stage.

You stand there, high off of every guitar riff and belt from the performance feeling sad that the concert was over. But a rush of hope filled your heart in knowing that you were going to see Shoto again soon. You and Nejire walk out of the stadium hand in hand as you discussed the plan to get to the party.

“So the party is not too far from here, exactly 15 minutes away. We could totally call an uber.” Nejire explains, saying that it’s going to be held in Todoroki’s mansion.

When you both arrive at Todoroki’s Mansion your jaws drop. A huge fountain greeted your uber driver’s car, cobblestone driveways leading you towards his front door. There were hedge sculptures all over the front yard and expensive cars adorned the driveway as you and Nejire step out of the car to see the line to get into the party. Damn. More lines.

You approach the security guard; the same one from earlier that night with a nervous wave.

“U-Um excuse me sir, we’re on the list..” You said unconfidently. Nejire nervous laughed and nudged you for sounding so unsure after giving you a long confidence pep-talk in the car.

“Sorry, kiddo. I’m not seein’ an ‘Y/N’ or a ‘Nejire’. Back o’ the line, ladies.” The security guard huffed, hardly even looking at his list.

“Nah it’s cool, Ben. Let them in.” You hear a familiar voice utter before you get the chance to turn around and walk to the back of the line. Sure enough it was Todoroki standing there, joint lit and eyes hazy. Clearly stoned.

It was like he got more gorgeous as you got closer to him, your cheeks heating up as you realize you’re literally standing in front of your fucking celebrity crush. Nejire squeals and runs inside to go find the drummer and get his number, she says drummers do it harder.

Shoto took you by the hand and led you inside the rager in his foyer. The smell of beer and weed absorbs your nostrils as you walk inside with Shoto in hand, watching as Nejire talks up the drummer with ease as if she already knew him from way back when.

Todoroki sat down on the most comfortable couch you have ever sat in with you next to him, taking a big drag of his joint and motioning it towards you.

“Wanna hit? It’s not laced. Promise.” He said cooly, slowly blowing out the smoke. You take it and take a hit, coughing a little as you puff out the smoke.

Damn this must be what rich people smoke.

“Good huh? Grew it myself. Heh.” Todoroki laughed a little as he watched you take another hit.

“Shit. I didn’t introduce myself. I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you, finally.” You say, nervousness coating your tongue. Shoto gave you a warm smile, his hazy eyes gleaming in the dim lights of the room.

“Gorgeous name for a gorgeous girl.” Shoto said, kissing the same hand he did at the concert.

You heat up, your panties becoming slightly wet at him touching and kissing you. He smirked and grabbed you by your chin to make sure you look him directly into his grey orbs.

“When I saw you in the crowd, I almost couldn’t keep my eyes off you.” He said into your ear, causing your mind to block out any outside sound that wasn’t his voice. You gulp, blinking dumbly as you try to find the words to say something.

“I-I, um. Th-thank you.” You say, looking down into his lap. Shoto pulled away to smoke his joint a little more. You two talked all night, everyone around you both becoming irrelevant as you seemingly grow closer together.

Strangely, none of the rumors about Todoroki were true. He wasn’t this stuck up asshole the media made him out to be. He was calm and gentle, the sweetest guy you’ve ever had the pleasure of having a conversation with. You learned so much about him that night. He was so misunderstood.

You’re high now and completely hazy as you and Todoroki make out on the couch. You’re not sure how you two even got to this point but you loved it. One thing led to another and now you were straddling him on the couch, his hands in your back pockets as he groped and squeezed your ass.

Your lips mingled as you moan into the kiss, Todoroki’s tongue slipping into your mouth to make home of it. The kiss got so hot your pussy was sopping wet underneath your jeans as you mindlessly grind against him for some kind friction.

Todoroki pulled away and started kissing your neck, damn near ripping your clothes off in front of the entire party. You’re gasping and grabbing at his clothes, forgetting where you are as you become desperate for him. You wanted him so bad and you knew he wanted you too.

“Wanna get out of here? Go upstairs I mean.” Shoto asked, huffing into the skin of your neck as his hard dick poked at your thigh.

“God yes.” You say breathily. As soon as he got your consent he carried you upstairs, the party raising their glasses and their blunts in celebration for Todoroki getting some.

“YES! Y/N tell me everything okay!?” Nejire yelled drunkenly, pulling away from her makeout session with the band’s drummer. You giggle and wave down at her, Todoroki laughing softly as he watched the interaction between you and your best friend.

“Just so you know, princess. I’m not going to go easy on you.” Shoto said, pinning you against the hallway wall.

“I don’t want you to.” You mewl, leaning into his neck to nip at it. Shoto let out a low chuckle and nearly kicked down his bedroom door, tossing you onto his luxurious california king bed.

You take a quick look around his darkly colored room, black walls with coordinating grey funiture. Posters of his inspiration adorned his walls, almost similar to your room just $100,000 richer. He had a mirror above his bed as you look up at your reflection you see Todoroki crawl on top of you, unbuttoning and pulling your jeans off in one fell swoop.

You’re immediately embarrassed, forgetting it was laundry day at home so you threw a thong on because you didn’t have anything else to wear. It was black and lacy and oh so skimpy you quickly move your hands to cover up in shame, Shoto grabbing your wrists and pinning your hands above your head.

“Heh. How’d you know I love lace?” Shoto teased, practically salivating at the sight of your smooth legs beneath him. “You’re so beautiful, you know that?” Shoto said, running his hands along your sides as if he was a lion playing with his prey before he ate it.

You bit your lip, dripping and hungry for some kind of touch in the places you needed him most, your nipples prodding at the thin fabric of your band tee. Yeah, you forgot to wear a bra. Shoto pulled your shirt above your head, tossing it somewhere and hissing at the sight of your bare breasts.

“No bra either? Man.. it must be my birthday. I’m gonna have fun with you, princess.” Todoroki says taking a nipple into his mouth, not breaking eye contact with you as he suckled gently following with short lick causing your entire body to catch flame.

You start moaning miserably, your whole body begging him to take you. Shoto pulls away from your nipple with a light pull of his lips and slips his hand down to your slit, caressing it agonizingly slow to tease you. He takes his other hand and presses his thumb to your lips.

“Open your mouth.” He rasped. And you did, sucking on his thumb as he rested it on your tongue making Shoto moan at the sight, humming a ‘good girl’ under his breath. Shoto held your mouth open and spit, pulling you into a sloppy kiss as he plunged his thick digits into your needy hole.

You arch your back off the bed, biting down onto Shoto’s lip as he finger fucked you without mercy. Your moans filled the air, Shoto watching you intently as he took your breast into his mouth once more.

“Sho- ah! I-I’m gonna-“ You bellow, trying to hold onto something for dear life as he brought you closer and closer to your peak.

“That’s daddy to you, princess. Try again and maybe I’ll let you cum around my fingers.” Shoto hissed, slowing his pumping fingers a bit to ensure you got the point.

He was in control. You pant, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath only for it to get caught in your throat again. Desperate moans fall out of your mouth as you beg him to let you cum.

“D-Daddy!~” You gasp, Shoto leaning into your neck, his ear right next your mouth as you scream for him. You collapse into his arms, fucked out and stupid off Todoroki’s strong fingers. All those years of guitar weren’t for nothing.

“That’s it baby.. fuck, you made a mess.” Shoto cooed, slowly dragging his fingers out of you as he watched your slick stick to him sloppily. At this point, he’s so hard you can clearly see the veins in his dick jumping out of his pants, his size making you wince in pain before he even entered you.

“Think you can take all of me, princess?” Shoto asked, throwing his contricting pants and boxers somewhere across the room, releasing his impressive size for you to see. You gulp but nod, licking your lips at the sight of him.

Shoto smirked at your reaction and pumped himself a few times before teasingly tapping the head of his dick against your clit, causing you to yelp from the sensitivity of your abused core.

“Pleaseee.” You whine, Shoto grabbing you by the neck and choking you almost to tell you to shut up and be patient. He wastes no time in plunging into you, the thickness of his dick stretching your walls with a delicious sting.

You claw at his back as he bottomed out, gasping sharply as he filled you completely.

“Am I hurting you?” Todoroki asked with what little sympathy he had left in his body. You shook your head no, moaning as he stayed still inside you.

“P-P-Please move..” you mewl, chewing your bottom lip. Shoto smirked and began rutting his hips into yours at a rough pace, not really caring if you adjusted to him or not. Hard slaps and the sound of your whiny moans filled the room as the headboard of his bed slammed against the wall, probably alerting the entire party downstairs.

You’re screaming now, a moaning mess beneath him as he split you wide open. As your eyes rolled to the back of your head, Shoto throws your legs over his shoulder and starts pounding into you.

He’s going to make sure you’re unable to walk straight for the rest of the week, marking you as his.

“Fuckkk, daddy. S-Slow down.” You pleaded only for Shoto to ignore you and continue his pace, laughing at the shocked and fucked out face you were pulling.

“Told you I wasn’t taking it easy on you. Did you forget already, princess?” Shoto breathed, moving his hands to rub shallow circles into your clit.

Your toes curled up tightly as your orgasm ripped through your body, your moans reaching a cresendo as your scream Shoto’s name.

He hissed as your walls fluttered around him, your pussy gripping him tightly as he fucked into you continuosly.

“I hope you didn’t think I was through with you just because I made you cum. I’m not done yet, doll.” Shoto muttered through your pathetic whines for him to slow down.

He cooed praises at you, a “good girl” here and a “you take my dick so well” there until his thrusts got rusty and sloppy; a sign he was close to cumming.

“Shittt, where do you want me to-“

“I-Inside m-mee! Fuck, cum inside me!” You shriek. And so he did, fucking his hot stickiness into you for a while as you both moan and pant. Shoto rode out your climaxes for a while before slowly pulling himself out as he watched his cum ooze out of your abused pussy.

As Shoto flopped on the bed next to you, you both stare up at the mirror on his ceiling. You’re both sweaty and your hair was a fucking mess from being tossed around the bed for what seemed like hours.

“Shit. Probably late as fuck by now. You wanna stay the night?” Shoto asked, taking your hand and famously kissing it once more. You smile and nod, unable to form coherent sentences as you feel yourself doze off.

Todoroki jumps from his bed and opened the door, screaming from the top of the stairs, “Oi! All you motherfuckers can fuck off home!Party’s over!” You laugh and throw a pillow at him.

“Don’t be so mean, Sho. Uh.. C-Can I call you Sho?” You ask embarrassed.

“You keep fucking me like that you can call me whatever you want, angel.” Shoto groans, grabbing you by your face and kissing you sweetly.

“Honestly, I wanna go again. You down?”

[low-budget-korra]

 Just  answering some questions ive saw in avatarverse twitter (credits to  @yuekataras for making the thread)

- who’s your one absolute comfort character Korra

- what’s your comfort ship Korrasami

-what character do u see yourself into the most and why?  Korra, cuz we are two lgbt woc who grown up with tons of expectations put in our shoulders. We also grew up overprotected from the world and that led to a difficult late teenage and early adult life cuz we didn't know how to do shit and life beat us like a mf. We trusted  people who scar us. We both fought battles against mental illness and when we are in rock bottom we just isolate ourself from everyone. And we both simp for hot femme brunettes with girlboss energy

-what’s your fave season of atla? Whats your fave season of tlok? Book 3 of atla is a masterpiercer. I also like book 3 of tlok, but today i will choose book 1 because everytime i rewatch it, i left with another discover or view of what happen there and everything is just so real and i think is the actually most dark season od tlok

-who’s your favorite villain? Azula 

-most overrated avatarverse character? Kuvira. She def aint all that. All of other main villains from both shows are better written within their goals and all of them are stronger than her, cuz all of them Ozai, Azula, Amon, Unalaq and Zaheer represented a real threat to the Avatar’s life and the fight their had kept you on edge because you knew they were powerfull. With Kuvira... her first match with Korra she was actually about to lose if Korra didnt had allucinate. And teh final battle, fighting one vs one with Korra, the avatar pulled her punches too much and it feel like Korra could murder Kuvira anytime she wanted

-most underrated avatarverse character? Katara. People joke so much about her that they forget how powerfull she really is. Katara can legit beat all of the others Gaang members, excepect Aang cuz he is the Avatar.

-who’s the most tragic character in your opinion? Azula. She was just a kid when everything happened and she needed help, love and support. And the away bryke destroy her character in the comics after The Search is something that enfuriates me as a fan and a fellow writer

-what duo did you want to see more of? Azula and Katara. I know they arent a duo but they have so similar backstorys and arcs that i wish they had more scenes together. I think it would be better than Zutara scenes.

what’s your favorite headcanon? Azula is a lesbian. Lin and Kya are a couple.Azula got the help she needed and was one of Korra firebender teachers.Korra find a way to connect with the past avatars in the spirit world.

[hoodedguitarist]

Think you can Hide from Me? Part 3

Once again, Gif aint mine I just REALLY LOVE IT. It’s one of my favorite scenes of him.

Pairing: Boba Fett x Reader

Summary: You infiltrated, the plan fell into chaos, Boba is mad at you, you’re catching feels, lots of time skips and some ANGST.

Warnings? None... Really not yet at least. Slight DinxReader if you squint. This just got a lot more feelsy and I got a whole lot more invested in this than I expected to. Which honestly seems to happen a lot to me. NO SHAME.

I really want to thank everyone who has liked, favorited, reblogged, and followed! You’re all amazing and make me feel amazing too. It means a lot to me that everyone is enjoying my writing. My inbox is open and I’ll even make a Tag List if anyone is interested!

Part 1: The Infiltrator

Part 2: The Distraction

Part 4: The Reunion

--

Part 3: The Regret

You should have known that plan was going to go off the rails. What you didn’t know, however, was that Boba was going to end up being a casualty of it all as well, and by complete accident.

Sure, you’d been caught with the others, sure you’d been sentenced to death with the others… And oh yes Boba was pissed… Very pissed. You didn’t need to see his face to tell that he was because instead of riding in the barge, he was there to personally bind you and hold you on the way to the Sarlaac pit.

Standing next to Han and Luke was going to make this conversation very awkward, but it needed to be said.

“Ok… So you’re mad at me, right?” You said out loud. Both of them glanced over at you, but you felt Boba’s hand tighten around your shoulder and yank you backwards into him. “Ah!”

“Mad is an understatement, sweetheart,” his modulated voice hissed.

“Ok, that’s fair… I’m sorry I lied to you about the whole work thing. Really, I am.”

“Uh… (Y/N)?” Han questioned.

“Stay out of it Han,” you snapped quickly. “You too, Luke. Mind your business, both of you.”

The two backed off and tried their best not to pay attention to whatever you could possibly be talking about with the bounty hunter, someone they considered an enemy.

“Was fucking me a distraction too?” Boba growled. Now the boys were really trying not to pay attention.

“No, actually, that part was real,” you turned your head to look at him over your shoulder. “I was telling the truth when I said I’d wanted to do that ever since I saw you, and still do, if you’ll have me.”

“I think that was your last roll in the sheets, princess. If you manage to make it out of this alive somehow, I’ll know and I’ll find you,” he threatened.

“Hm, sounds fun,” you couldn’t stop yourself from grinning. “If you make it out of this alive, I’ll come back and find you too. Do we have a deal?”

Boba scoffed and you figured he felt pretty confident that this was it and you were going to die some horrible death inside the belly of this beast.

“Deal,” he finally answered. 

Han and Luke both cut their eyes over at you and you shrugged. “I told you two to mind your own business.”

~*~

Things had happened so fast. One minute you were about to be shoved into the pit, the next Luke is jumping around doing Jedi stuff and mildly impressing you. You didn’t have time to admire, though, because you were struggling with one of Jabba’s guards while Han and Chewie were getting into it with Boba.

Somehow, you were trying to manage not getting killed but also trying to watch Han’s back because he was still blind, and now Chewie who had been shot… But also Boba because you really didn’t want him dying on you either. It was a weird situation all around.

You struggled with the guard and managed to land a hit, but then a blaster fired out of nowhere and hit him square in the chest, knocking him backwards and into the pit. You were startled and turned to look where the shot came from, and sure enough you saw Boba’s blaster smoking. Your heart jumped into your throat and he simply nodded to you… Until he turned his sights on Luke.

You heard Chewie howl something out, heard Han get jumpy.

“Boba Fett?? Where??” He whipped around and smacked the bounty hunter right in his jetpack, which malfunctioned and sent him flying.

“Han what the hell??” You yelled over the chaos.

“I didn’t know he was right there! I can’t see!” He yelled back. You looked over the railing rather desperately, just in time to see the bounty hunter roll into the Sarlaac pit.

Well… That was a damn shame...

~*~

Five years had passed, and the Empire was defeated. Ghosts and whispers still lingered, but the Rebellion no longer needed you. It was now the New Republic and you didn’t really have any interest in politics. You said your goodbyes to your friends, the true heroes, and went back to being on your own.

You weren’t on your own for long, however, seeing as how you got caught up in chaos with another Mandalorian. This one was different, however. He had a kid with him. You didn’t mind babysitting during the really dangerous stuff but at the same time you sort of missed the chaos. After a while, the kid wanted to be everywhere his dad was so you were able to tag along.

Being with them led you back to Tatooine, to a small place known as Mos Pelgo. You wanted to help Din get the kid back with his own kind and when they spoke of another Mandalorian in Mos Pelgo, you couldn’t help it as your heart jumped and your hopes spiked…

Especially when a ghost appeared in the doorway wearing Boba Fett’s armor.

You tensed beside Din, and he glanced at you briefly. 

“Boba…?” You questioned carefully, letting your eyes run down the person in front of you. He was tall, much more thin. There was no way…

“ ‘Fraid not, darlin’,” the ghost answered. 

First, you felt the icy cold stab of regret and loss all over again, then you felt the heat of anger bloom in you. Both you and Din were ready to throw down with the Marshal for entirely different reasons.

“Take it off,” Din ordered.

“Or I will,” your voice was a low warning, surprising all parties involved.

“I think I wouldn’t mind that,” the ghost now known as Cobb Vanth smirked at you.

“Yeah you say that now until you’ve got a knife in your back. Where the hell did you get that? And don’t say Jawas. That armor belonged to someone. Someone I knew!” You snapped. 

“I don’t know what to tell you, honey. Anything else would be a lie. I did get it from the Jawas.”

A growl slipped your lips and you took a step forward, but Din grabbed you first. In the end, everything worked out in your favor. Cobb gave up the armor in exchange for help against the Dragon that plagued Mos Pelgo. When the two of you and the child were back safely on the Razor Crest, there were several times when Din would catch you gazing at the old armor, running your fingers across it, leaning your head against the empty helm.

He even thought he saw tears…

Finally, one night, he managed to carefully edge the story out of you. It was a little difficult, but you managed well enough.

“It was just supposed to be a fling, you know? No strings attached, just to say I did it. But there was just something about him, something else that drew me to him. I wanted him to live, I tried to protect him but so many things happened that day, and so many things went wrong way too quickly…” Your voice caught in your throat, but you laughed despite yourself. “I ended up catching feelings for this fucking bounty hunter after he supposedly died.”

“It’s possible those feelings grew from guilt,” Din said calmly. “Thank you for telling me and trusting me with this. I’m sorry this is bringing you so much pain.”

“Oh they most definitely grew from guilt, but then when I saw his armor, hope grew. He had to have come out of it. He’s got to be somewhere, I just don’t know where… And I don’t know if he’ll kill me on sight, so you might want to get ready for that too.”

“(Y/N) when are we not almost killed on sight?” There was a hint of amusement to his voice, and it made you smile. “I think we can manage,” he assured you.

“Yeah… Let’s hope…”

~*~

Seeing the armor hit you hard, but being on top of that mountain with Din and Grogu and seeing Slave 1 come out of the atmosphere and into the sky really did a number on you.

“Oh shit… Oh shit…”  You muttered.

“What? Who is that?” Din looked over at you.

“I… I don’t know. It used to be Boba’s ship but there’s no damn telling now. I haven’t seen that thing in years. Somebody could have scavenged it or something.”

“Well we need to figure it out, come on,” he waved for you to follow, and you did so, trying your best not to seem too eager.

Unfortunately, that eagerness faded with the blaster fire, and the both of you took cover behind a rock.

“I’ve been tracking you, Mandalorian.”

That voice… It made your heart thunder in your chest. Masked by a modulator or not, you could tell it was him. You tensed and Din noticed. He looked over at you and you looked at him, eyes wide and lips parted. You gave a quick nod.

“It’s him… It’s Boba…”

“So not a Jedi… Great,” he whispered. The both of you eased out from behind the rock and you got your first good look at him. He was dressed in black robes, the hood thrown over his head, weapons strapped to his back.

“Boba??” You couldn’t stop yourself as you called out to him. He reached up and pushed his hood back, revealing a scarred face. It did nothing to deter you, however. He was older, but you were still just as attracted to him as you had been years ago. He stepped forward and moved closer, his eyes never leaving your face. It made you a little nervous. “If you’re going to kill me then ok, just do it, but I want you to know that I’m sorry first,” you said quickly holding your hands up. “I’m sorry for what happened that day.”

“Surprised to see me alive?” It was a simple question. No dark tone or anger.

“Relieved is more like,” you admitted. “I looked for you, for any sign of you after the war was over, but I never found anything. I knew somehow, though. I knew you’d survived, but I didn’t know if you’d want to kill me or not.”

“You know me well enough, girl. If I’d wanted to kill you, I would have done it right after I crawled out of that pit,” his eyes roved down you and you felt that old familiar rush, that feeling of playing with fire again. “It’s good to see you, princess, and we’ll talk later. For now, we need to talk about my armor that your man made off with.”

@pinkiemme @chadillacboseman​ If you need me I’ll be in the trash compactor thanks.

[aboardthehavocmarauder]

🔺Bad Batch Spoilers🔺

In one post

——————

Ok how can this man be this fucking hot under a red light? Yeah it’s…prison and he’s on the other side of the bars. But fuck. Howzer how are you this hot

——————

Bruh the milf AINT gonna tell you where her fucking daughter is you white man

——————

Howzer is gonna get himself fucking killed by the white guy if he’s gonna be honest.

——————

A WAR CRIMINAL AND CROSSHAIR? YEAH

——————

God why did my subtitles turn on on their own…just let me get snaps of the beautiful sexy men

——————

Hunter let your fucking kid have friends. GOD. Omega go save your bestie 😭

——————

Fucking. Tech just proved to be THAT parent. Which is so fucking annoying. I love you so much but I’m gonna kick your fat ass into the dirt

——————

“Isn’t that what soldiers do?” Intense music builds up

Man don’t you love it when you get triggered and the music number starts up

——————

Chopper really about to be like

“I’m gonna take on this girl and these four big bitches ALL BY MYSELF”

“Chopper no”

“But hera…”

——————

Hunter: Hera is a good influence

Tech: we might die

Hunter: A good influence

Echo: bitch you just saw omega stand next to her, how many of our decisions are gonna be based on your staring problems?

——————

God seeing Hera makes me want to re-watch rebels but fuck I do and don’t want to

——————

With the besties ✌️

——————

Them: *bashing on crosshair*

Me: It’s not his fucking fault y’all left him without fucking trying to first time to get his brainwashed ass

Brain: I just want Crosshair back. Why can’t they just get Crosshair back

Heart: SHUT THE FUCK UP BRAIN BEFORE I HAVE ANOTHER HEART PALPITATION. THAT FUCKING STRING BEAN OF A MAN WIGGLED HIS WAY INTO MY HEART AND THEY AJNT DOING SHIT YET

——————

Droid: *exists*

Hunter: *pounces*

——————

I have depression *thinking about how they might not get Crosshair back bc David Felony hates us*

——————

Tech & Chopper ✨

——————

Hunter still struggling to be a dad and what Omega said hurt my heart. Bc it’s hurting pretty bad for Crosshair. Or maybe it’s the alcohol from last night

——————

Ugh why y’all gotta doubt Crosshair’s skills—stop looking at Howzer like that you brainwashed potato

——————

“Because he’s my brother”

Welp. That’s not gonna stop me from writing Hunter as your dad. Seriously they all act like your dad

——————

Yes Hera being the boss

——————

Look at that little war criminal go ✨ he can start a whole ass war if he truly wanted to

——————

Fucking. You know that one bestie that always tells you to do it cuz fuck it

Yeah that’s Omega to Hera

——————

Tech: *smirks*

Me: UGH. SEXY

——————

“WHERES HERA”

Hera flying a ship and getting critiqued by Tech

——————

Me: Here you go

Crosshair: *holds the scar bandaids* You said scars are sexy

Me: and I also said I like Freddy Krueger but didn’t mean I want my boyfriend to look like him

——————

Crosshair…?

——————

God. This is giving me execution vibes

Like if Crosshair fails, he’ll get killed. I’m an anxious bean

——————

Crosshair: *fails*

Howzer: Dumb bitch

——————

Man at least they didn’t get shot. That’s all I care about. Fucking arrest them for being SMART UNLIKE YOU CROSSHAIR

——————

YAY THE FAMILY IS BACK TOGETHER

——————

“I’ve got my own people to look out for”

Yet here I am. Depressed that you still haven’t saved Crosshair and the season is almost over

——————

Aww Omega. Y’all will reunite

——————

I’m fucking crying. Omega made a great friend and now she’s sad as fuck

UGH WHY RUIN THE MOMENT WITH THESE EMPIRE FUCKS

——————

Fuck. Crosshair is going hunting but he looks sad. Baby baby boy. That chip is fucked isn’t it

——————

*credits roll*

UGH SHUT THE FUCK UP I NEED THE NEXT EPISODE

[bakubitch-minusultra]

Not Alone: Chapter Twelve

-> an apocalyptic series with bnha characters but without quirks because im the writer and i can do whatever the fuck i want :P

-> Word Count: 4.2k

-> Warnings: talk abt breeder farms, cooking/killing a bunny lol

-> Taglist: @5sosfckss @laudthingcat @zphilophobiaz

People pass by Y/n, becoming a sea of faces. All she could think was how she would get Mina back too. She would do anything to get Mina back. It seemed that it had become her centennial project. She wondered if she would ever just have the people who had become her new family all together, or would she die still looking for one.

“Where did they take her?” Y/n asked again. The huge boys hug and mess with each other’s hair. She wanted to shout but Bakugo saved her the trouble.

He looked around, “Where’s Mina?”

“Hunters got her two days ago. She went looking for Y/n and I heard her screaming at the edge of the field. I couldn’t run. They took her in a truck.”

“I’m so sorry Kirishima.”

He shook his head, “Y/n you went for food after you went for medicine to save me. None of this is your fault. We’ll get her back.” He looked at Bakugo and smiled. “I can’t believe you’re alive man.”

Bakugo ruffled Kirishima’s hair again, “You too shitty hair. You should have died a long time ago with your survival skills.”

Kirishima laughed, “Mina.”

“We need to get her back shitty hair.”

Kirishima nodded. Y/n couldn’t pretend that everything was warm and fuzzy.

She shoved him, “So how did you end up here? Why didn’t you stay at the farmhouse in the barn bunker?”

“I tried to go after them. I went over the hill and broke the branches like you told me. I knew you’d find me.” He shook his head at Bakugo. “She’s like a fucking terminator.”

Bakugo laughed, “I know.”

Kirishima fixed his hair, “Anyway, I came here yesterday. They all know you Bakugo.”

Bakugo shrugged, “I made friends at camp shitty hair.”

Y/n hated the way he called him shitty hair. She hated Bakugo in a horrid way. She wished he was at the breeder camp instead of Mina. Him and his girlfriend in the shorts. They have their mini reunion. She turned away and walked to the nearest small tent. She looked in the flap. A younger looking guy was asleep inside. Half his face was burnt. She walked from one small tent to the next, until she found one with a man with blond hair holding a pen and looking at a map that was spread across a table.

“Are you Monoma?” He nodded, but looked at Y/n suspiciously. “I need to know where the closest breeder camp is.”

He chuckled, “You aren’t thinking about volunteering are you? The food’s not that bad here.” She doesnt laugh, instead she looked at the map. She didn’t know how to read maps. She added it to the list of things her father should’ve taught her.

“My friend was taken. I need her back.”

He started laughing again, “What do you plan on doing?”

She looked up into his periwinkle blue eyes and stare him down, “I’m going to get her back.”

“Look, I get you’re upset but there is no getting them back. They go in and nine years later they get a nice house in the city. It’s not a baf gig. They get healthy food and a place to sleep. Your life here is harder.” She felt her face change. He put his hands up defensively, “Look we have bigger fish to fry than worry about one girl at a breeder farm.” He turned his back on her and looked at the wall of the tent where other maps were hung. She felt her fingers twitch. She wanted to pull an arrow. She left the tent disheartened and lost.

“Y/n where’d you go?”

She looked up at Bakugo and Kirishima walking toward her. She scrunched up her face and walked away from them both. She didn’t know how to be dramatic. She felt the need burning inside of her, but she didn’t physically know how to get angry without using her hands. She walked to a group of ladies who were standing around a fire.

She smiled sweetly and looked at the one who looked most like her mother did, “Hi.”

“Hi sweetie.” The rebellion people were nice.

“Do you know where the nearest breeder camp is?”

She frowned, “Yeah.” She looked over at a dark strawberry blonde who had a scar along her mouth, “Beth where was that camp that you all saw not far from here?”

“South east, over two small mountains and a ghost town. Used to be a place called Licoln there. Stay on the outskirts of that place.”

“Thanks so much.”

“You aren’t trying to go there, are you?”

Y/n shook her head, “No way. Just wanted to know where my friend went. Her nine years is almost up.”

The lady with the scar laughed bitterly, “Honey she aint coming back out here to shit in a ditch. She’ll get herself a nice place in the city. I hear they even got air conditioning again.”

A lady with a t-shirt with a big tongue on it laughed, “Oh girl, what I would do for air conditioning.” They all laughed and it made Y/n grin. She walked away from them and went back to the small tent. The man looked less than pleased to see that she was there.

“Really, you’re back again. Look I’m not sending a bunch of men to their death over some girl.”

“I’m not asking you for a thing. I just want to see the map.”

He held his arm out at the one on the table, “Have at it.” She looked at the compass on the map.

“Where are we?” He dropped a finger onto the map next to a blue line. She dragged her finger southeast to the place that said Licoln. She looked up at him, “Which way is south east from here?” He pointed to the back of the tent where the other maps were. He was blocking her view of them on purpose. “Thanks.” She started to walk in the direction he had told her.

Her quiver wasn’t very full. Normally she would make arrows once a month but she hadn’t had a chance in the last month. Nothing had been the way it would have been back at the cabin. She thought about the moment she stood at the door as Mina knocked outside of it. She remembered the regret. She saw Kirishima and Bakugo and started to walk faster. She didn’t know what to say, but running away from them seemed like a pretty good idea. Kirishima still has a limp, but they move quickly.

“Y/n wait up,” Kirishima shouted. She wanted to be alone. It figured the only boys she’s ever liked had to be friends. Her mom would have been proud. She too had a thing for friends.

Fingers bit into Y/n’s arm and spun her around.

Bakugo towered over her, “What are you doing?” He looked annoyed.

She pulled her arm away from him, “I’m going to find her.” She looked at Kirishima, “Stay here and get better. That leg isn’t going to heal with you walking around so much.” He looked hurt.

Bakugo grabbed her arm again, “Y/n we aren’t going to let you run off half cocked. We need a plan.” She felt angry, maybe it was because she liked them both or maybe it was because they’re not running after Mina, like she expected they would.

She glared at Kirishima, “When you fell in that holse she did the bravest thing I have ever seen anyone do. She told me that she didn’t care if I shot her but I had to come find you.”

He shook his head, “We need a plan.”

She pointed south, “There’s a three day hike, we can plan on the way.”

Bakugo’s grip on her arm tightened, “We’ll be down a mountain and in the woods alone with no resources when we find her. What plan can you come up with there?”

Y/n shook her head again, “I’ve made it this far without anyone.” She pulled her arm free and took a step back, “I don’t need either of you.” She felt something in her stomach. She should’ve grabbed food. She started her hike. She realized she not only had a plan but that she was starving. She heard their footsteps behind her.

“She’s really stubborn.” Kirishima tried to whisper, but Y/n could hear him.

“I noticed that. How’s the leg?” Y/n made a face but didn’t look back at them.

“Good. She did surgery on it. I don’t think I’ll ever win the Boston Marathon if it comes back in style.” Bakugo snorted, Y/n wanted to laugh, but she was pissed off.

“Mina been a handful?”

Kirishima laughed, “Oh my god. The year she started the road to womanhood was the beginning of the end. Oh my god it was so bad.”

Y/n felt her face flush with heat. She remembered getting her first period and cringed. She had thought she was dying for a few days. She had to read an encyclopedia on health in order to find the answers she had been looking for. She made rags and stayed indoors. She rubbed clary sage oil on her stomach for the cramping and put warm compresses on her stomach. It was the first thing she added to the list of things he should have told her about. Being twelve and alone in the forest was daunting. Bleeding every month for no reason was much worse.

She realized how far ahead of them she was when she came out of her daydream and couldn’t hear them. She looked back. They were laughing and walking like it was a stroll in the park. She glanced up in the trees to see the guard strategically placed. She knew they were still safe from the others but she couldn’t imagine laughing and joking and catching up the way they were.

She walked faster. She missed the silence and uncomplicated days of traveling with Hades. He would hunt and they would touch each other every now and again but neither of them needed to make a sound. She looked back at Kirishima and noticed the way he lumbered through the woods and let out a sigh. The bottom of the mountain led to a valley and she climbed a tree and sat on a sturdy branch.

“What do you see?”

“A highway. There’re cars on it, they’re burned.” It frightened Y/n. Scavengers were always nearest to the old remains. She stayed away from the remains.

“Do you see movement?”

She shook her head but narrowed her eyes to improve her vision. The infected had a way of not moving when you needed them to. The sun was going down and she wanted to scross the highway and be halfway up the next mountain before it’s completely dark. She climbed down the tree and tried not to look at either of the hulking men standing next to her.

She pulled an arrow and crouched low to the ground. She shut her mind off. She tried not to think when she was scared shitless.

She could hear Kirishima walking behind her, no doubt completely upright and picking his teeth with a piece of grass. Y/n decided to shoot him herself if he started to hum. The grass on the side of the highway was long. As she slipped through it the wind played with it, making it whisper. The birds here were not the kind who warn you of prey, they were scavengers. They wanted you to die.

The long grass swayed and played with her hair. Her heart was beating faster when her foot touched the gravel on the side of the highway.

She looked back at Bakugo and he nods. Kirishima’s lips curled into a smile. She couldn’t help but want to smile with him. She saw herself back at the cabin for the briefest of seconds. Images of her and him laying on the couch filled her mind. She smiled remembering the way they tried not to get caught staring at each other.

Her mind snapped back.

She closed her eyes and listened to the wind. There was no sound. She climbed out of the huge ditch and walked quickly and silently up onto the broken asphalt. It had started to crack from the weather and lack of care. Where her foot stepped first it crumbled. Her eyes scanned every inch of the deserted highway. Burned out cars sat staggered along the long straight road. The people caught in the traffic jams when the tidal waves were coming or the bombs were dropping to contain the sick. They fled from their vehicles. They left everything and ran. She remembered running.

She shook her head back to focusing. She slipped between an old burnt SUV and the skeleton of a small car. The hood of the car was lifted and the battery was gone. Not uncommon.

“Which way?” Kirishima asked louder than Y/n would’ve liked.

“Shhhh.”

The gravel on the other side was a welcomed sight. When her feet touched the grass she broke into a run. The bushes hit her in the face when she entered the forest. She ran until shesaw the tree she wanted. She climbed it and sat with her arrow pulled and at the ready. She scanned the highway and the ditch vigorously.

Kirishima was huffing and panting while he rested below the tree.

“Oh man you can run. Holy shit. I thought your leg was hurt. Whoa.”

“Kirishima.” Bakugo was back to being Business Bakugo. There was no fun with him, only survival. She didn’t take her eyes off the road. Nothing moved. She was about to climb down but she waited one more second. She saw the bushes across the move and pulled the arrow tighter. It looked like an animal but she couldn’t see clearly.

“I see something,” she said in a low voice.

“What?”

“Animal. Dog maybe.”

“Shit.” She looked down through the thick branches at Bakugo’s;ook and raised an eyebrow. “Trackers.”

He doesn’t finish the sentence and her eyes scanned across the highway again. The animal was gone. Nothing moved. She climbed down fast and turned to face the dense woods.

“That way.”

Kirishima looked pained, “Seriously? We’re going to run some more?”

She looked at him and nodded, “Think about what it’s like for Mina now. She’s terrified. She thinks the breeder camps are what we all think. She is waiting for her turn no doubt.”

He flinched, “Jesus Y/n. Easy on the visuals. She’s my friend for christ’s sake. I’m not bitching, my leg is just killing me.”

Y/n glared, “Is it bleeding?”

“No but it hurts.”

“Climb the tree and wait for us,” She handed him a water bottle from her belt. But Kirishima shook his head and looked at Bakugo who’s face was stoic

“Bakugo I’m not staying.”

Bakugo licked his lips and thought for a second, “You can’t hold us up.”

Kirishima rolled his eyes and sighed, “Let’s just go.”

Y/n held the water bottle out for one more second but he didn’t take her up on the offer. She turned and started to run. Her leg was sore and her stomach was empty. In her haste she never stocked up. Mina had been hard on her rules.

When the sun had started to set they were where Y/n wanted to be. Kirishima hadn’t complained and Bakugo was starting a small fire. She took her bow and found a nice quiet spot to sit and wait for something to make a sound.

The silence of the woods was alarming. She had never been in the woods here. She was exhausted but she stayed focused.

She heard the crunch of a stick and raised her arrow in the direction she heard it in. A large hare hopped over a branch and sniffed the wind. It’s ears twitched and Y/n knew that it had smelled her. She released the arrow, anticipating the hop it would do. The arrow slices through the neck of the rabbit. It tried to move for a second and then stopped. She gutted the hare where she killed it. She never brought it back with its guts. Leaving guts outside the cabin proved to be a mistake. She skinned it quickly with the skinning knife she kept and left the animal’sremains and carried the carcass to the fire.

She heard the cracking of wood when she got close. Bakugo was standing over the fire and Kirishima was sitting on a log next to him.

“So is there something between you two?” Bakugo asked but didn’t move his face.

Kirishima shrugged, “I don’t know. She’s a tough one to get to know. We kissed but it was a mistake.”

Bakugo looked at him and smiled, “I hear that. You remember the Laura Croft movies where Angelina Jolie was all hot and quiet but would kill anything that moved?”

Kirishima laughed, “Yeah. Exactly. Jesus, give her some pouty lips and bam. Laura Croft.”

Y/n felt her insides trembling. She didn’t remember the movies they were talking about. She couldn’t help but want to cry.

Bakugo laughed and shook his head, “But what a bitch though hey.”

She grabbed a rock from where she was standing and tossed it back a few yards. They couldn’t see her if she crouched.

“She’s back. Manners.” Bakugo spoke low and started poking the fire. She stood and walked from the bushes. She just wanted to throw the stupid hare down and leave them there, but her stomach was growling. She was exhausted. She would stay as long as it would take to eat and then she would be sleeping in a tree. Maybe if she was lucky she would fall in her sleep and wake up in hell.

Bakugo held out a small sack, “I have some potatoes from the camp and tinfoil.”

She nodded, “Okay.” She felt awkward. Kissing both of them was obviously bad, but having them call her a bitch after they kissed her was awful. Having Kirishima say it was a mistake was killing her. She couldn’t look him in the eyes. She walked around him and found a good stick to make a spit with.

She searched the ground around the fire until she found a good branch. She stripped the small branches and leaves from it. She smirked and shoved the stick into the open neck. She was imagining it was one of them.

“You’re a scary little thing.” She frowned at Kirishima who was watching her get the hare on the spit. “It’s a compliment.” She didn’t stop frowning. It didn’t feel like a complement. Even if it was, it wouldn’t stop the pain of the kiss being a mistake.

She built a spit with rocks and branches and twine from her backpack. Bakugo sliced the potatoes and laid them in the tinfoil. He placed them high on a rock with a flat surface in the fires circle of rocks.

Bakugo glanced at her, “So what’s to plan?”

“Get captured and free us both.” He laughed at Y/n. “I can do it.”

He shook his head, “I know you can, it's just funny that’s all. You’re willing to sacrifice yourself to save my friend?”

“She’s the only person I’ve met that I liked. Genuinely.” It was a stab at them both. Fuck them.

He raised his eyebrows, “Fair enough.” He looked hurt. The image of the girl in the short shorts didn’t leave her mind easily.

Kirishima looked hurt, “What am I, chopped liver?” Y/n smiled. She hated that she was smiling. She hated that he made her smile so easily. He grinned at her and she remembered his hands on her. She couldn’t stop staring at his lips. It made her feel sick.

Bakugo cleared his throat, “So how’ll you get captured?”

She shrugged, “Just act lost near the area.” She glanced at Kirishima who was still staring at her. His grin hadn’t left his face. She dug her stick in the dirt and drew a circle. She hit a rock and dirt went flying up at Kirishima’s face on his stump.

She laughed as he wipped his face clean, “Thanks.”

Bakugo laughed, “Stop being a baby.”

Kirishima shook the dirt out of his hair, “You did that on purpose.”

She put her hands up with the stick in them, “I didn’t, I swear.” She wish she had.

“I don’t think you shouldgo there, Y/n.”

She dug with the stick again, “I have to.” She didn’t say that she led them straight to Mina. She doesn’t say that it was all her fault. She didn’t have to. They all knew it was true. Bakugo turned the hare on the spit slowly. The smells were starting to make her stomach make noises she hadn’t heard since before she found the cabin.

Bakugo looked around, “When you get captured you need a way out.” He got up from the fire and muttered, “Kiri turn the hare.” He went to a tree and ripped off a branch. He sat next to Y/n on the log. The warmth of his body was touching her and it was setting her nerves on fire.

He bent down and drew a rectangle. In each of the corners he made small boxes, “There is a section that is for the women who are pregnant or about to be impregnated. This is probably where you'll go. Then this wing is for the younger girl who can't have babies yet. This is for the women with the babies. This is where the little girls are kept. Girls they raise to be breeders." He moved the stick to the other side and made a smaller box, "This is where the men are, if there are any men. Sometimes they don’t have any there." He cleared his throat nervously and drew an X in the middle but off to one side, "This is the fertility lab. This is where the lab coats and doctors and cleaners all stay. This is your only chance. They will have a dump somewhere near the clinic. The garbage goes every few days."

She frowned at him but Kirishima asked the question burning in her mind before she could, “Dude how do you know so much about the breeder farmer?”

Bakugo blushed in the firelight, “I lived there for a time.”

Kirishima raised an eyebrow, “As a cleaner or a doctor?” He laughed like he knew the answer.

Bakugo laughed, “I wish.”

Kirishim shook his head, “Nasty bro. Nasty.”

Y/n felt lost. She looked blankly at them both. Bakugo’s face looked like it was on fire.

“I was forced to um… donate.” Y/n didn’t understand what they were talking about.”

Kirishima started to make an odd motion with his fist, “He had to jerk his chiken for the big men.” She didn’t know what that meant but she nodded before they explained. Bakugo looked at her face and laughed.

Kirishima turned the hare, “So how many little Bakugo’s are running around?” Y/n felt her stomach drop. She understood. She felt judgment burn its way across her face.

“I wasn’t exactly in on the plans.”

Kirishima poked the hare, “How was life there?”

Bakugo snorted, “Thinking about signing up?”

Kirishima looked up, “Hey if there are three square meals a day and I get all the, um, reading material I need to deliver the goods, I’m in.”

The humor fell from Bakugo’s face. He almost twitched when he shook his head, “No. No three meals and material shitty hair. It’s more like milking a cow.”

Kirishima ignored the terror on his friend's face and grinned ear to ear, “Are there milk maids?”

Bakugo nodded, “Not the kind you’re thinking of. Mine was a guy named Dr. Stevie.”

Kirishima gagged, “Oh shit never mind.”

Bakugo looked down at the drawing again and chuckled, but Y/n could tell he was haunted by it.

“There’s no human contact Kirishima. It’s all done by machines, the girls and the boys. Anyway this section here has the surgeon’s clothes and boots. Change and climb into the garbage bin in the morning on a Tuesday or a Thursday or a Saturuday. The garbage comes around lunch and the best chance you have at not being noticed is then. They’ll be looking for you after lunch.”

Y/n felt sick thinking about the plan. She was not as strong as the look on her face suggests she is.

“I think it’s done,” Kirishima poked the hare.

Y/n shook her head, “Always over cook wild animals.”

Bakugo nudged her with his body, almost playfully, “You sure about this?”

She nodded and reached into the flames to turn the potatoes. The fire licked at her skin but she ignored it. It hurt. It was a warning of pain to come if she continued to stick her hands in the fire. Sitting between two men she couldn’t help but feel like it was appropriate.

[zwowow]

this might be very triggering so its fine if u dont do it, but kells self harming secretly and em finding out and kells thinks he’s gonna be mad but em is comforting instead

sorry for the ask, im the same anon that went thru a break up and it aint going well

tw: self harm 

I’m sorry my love, break ups are rough and it really sounds like ur goin thru it. sorry this took a while! but hopefully you’ve had time to heal a bit between sending this ask nd now. 

psa to all I’ve never self harmed, so i’m just hoping this captures the idk headspace? alright :/ 

He started when he was a teenager. That’s how long he’s been doing this shit. It’s fucking shameful that he hasn’t grown out of it in over a decade, but it’s also one of the only things that’s consistently soothed him. When weed isn’t enough to calm him, or shake him from a spiral of self-loathing, he always comes back to this. Not because it makes him feel better, but because it makes him feel something. 

He can focus on the pain and only the physical pain. His emotions, the real world shit he has to deal with, can fall to the side for a moment and he can revel in the hurt. The hurt that he has control over. 

That’s a part of it, too. Control. So much of the existential pain he feels is beyond what he himself can change. Everyone gets to have an opinion on him, and regardless if it’s good or bad, he has to know it and internalize it. He has no choice. Time moves on and he can’t control what his past self has done, but the regret eats him alive. His head spins when he thinks about all of the shit that’s wrong in his life that he no longer has the power to change. 

But the harm he does himself? Knowingly and methodically? It’s all controlled. He’s got it all under control. 

Or at least he did. Recently, he’s had the itch to hurt more and more frequently. There’s so much going on in his life that he’s no longer in control of even the one thing that makes him feel grounded. The old scars and fresh wounds are getting harder to hide. Even on his inked skin, raised bumps and sensitive bruises are easy to find when his boyfriend spends all of his time roaming his hands gently over his body. 

But Em can’t find out. Colson refuses to let him. He’d think Colson is pathetic (he is). He’d be disgusted by him (he should be). He’d hate him (but he couldn’t hate him more than Colson hates himself). 

He tries not to hurt himself around Em because of this, but sometimes it’s unavoidable. Sometimes he needs it. 

Colson sneaks out of bed one night at Em’s place while his boyfriend is sleeping. On his way out, he grabs his small bag that has just a few of the items he uses to hurt himself. His fingers shake around the bag and his breath quickens in his chest. 

Ain’t it funny that the shame he feels from doing this just makes him want to do it more? 

When he makes it to a bathroom far enough away from Em’s room that he doubts he would make the effort to find him all the way down here, he lays the bag on the counter and opens it up. 

This hadn’t started with the razor blades and lighters he keeps in the bag. He’s worked himself here from pulling out his leg hair and scratching his own arms raw just to feel the sting. The older and more well known he got, the more out of control he felt, and from there he made the jump from nervous ticks to genuine self harm. 

He used to starve himself, too. He thinks back to only a couple of years ago and picks up the lighter. He could go days without eating, even while on tour. There were times where he’d pass out after shows from the hunger, but he’d write it off to others as exhaustion. That had been one of the most pleasing ways to hurt himself. The gentle build up to physical depletion to match what he felt emotionally was fulfilling in a way he couldn’t possibly explain to anyone. 

And that’s why he stopped. Em started to catch on. He started to ask questions no one had asked before. He was obsessed with feeding Colson and keeping him healthy. 

Colson started eating regularly because Em would’ve hated to know his not eating wasn’t just absent-minded forgetting. He would’ve been so disappointed to find out it was deliberate starvation. Colson didn’t want to disappoint Em. 

He still doesn’t. Colson puts the lighter on the counter and takes out one of his blades, too. Em would hate to see this. He wouldn’t understand. 

Inhaling shakily through his nose, Colson looks between his two options for tonight. He leaves the blade on the counter and picks up the lighter. Em is sure to notice if he has a fresh cut. A burn is easier to hide. 

He flicks the lighter to life and is deciding where to hold it on his body when he hears the first knock. 

“Kells.” Shit. He loosens his grip on the lighter and the flame goes out. 

What is Em doing out of bed, and what the fuck is he doing down here?

“Kells,” Em tries again, “You good?” 

“I’m fine.” He lies. 

“Are you fucking smoking in there?” Outside, Em’s voice grows suspicious. He heard the lighter go on and now he thinks Colson is smoking weed in his bathroom. That would be easier to explain. 

After too long of a pause he says, “No.” 

Em doesn’t give a warning before he throws open the bathroom door. Colson wants to knock his head into the mirror for not thinking to lock it. He dives for the blade on the counter, but Em is staring right at it. 

“What the fuck?” Em looks between Colson and the counter multiple times. It’s a stupid overdramatic response, but he wants to slit his fucking wrists from that look. 

Em’s brow furrows. Colson feels sick to his stomach. Em is pissed at him. He’s disgusted by him. He doesn’t know whether to throw him out or call a mental hospital. He hates him. He must be so angry. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to find out. I was trying to hide it. I shouldn’t have done it here. I know it’s fucking sick. I know it’s fucking crazy to cut and burn myself, I know but I...” Excuses and apologies trip over each other running off of his tongue. 

“You’re cutting yourself?” Em interrupts him. His intense gaze sweeps over Colson. He’s not disgusted or angry like he’d thought. He’s shocked, confused, and even a bit hurt. 

“I... yeah.”

“Why?” A loaded question like that shoots Colson right through the chest. Why? He can hardly answer the question to himself, how is he supposed to explain it to Em?

Em said it himself, he was just clownin’ when talking about cutting himself, how fucked up does someone have to be to actually do that? Colson doesn’t want to explain to Em how fucked up he is.

When he doesn’t answer, Em looks back down at the blade and then at the lighter still in his hand. Kells sees the thousands of things he wants to say and the million questions he wants to ask in his eyes. Finally his eyes set, and Kells braces himself for the next thing to come out of Em’s mouth. 

“Don’t do that shit tonight, yeah? Just come back to bed.” The response shocks Colson even more silent than he’d been. Does he still want to know why, or is he just dropping it? 

As if reading his mind, Em shrugs, “You can tell me why when you’re ready. Tonight, I just want to cuddle your ass.” He holds out his hand to Colson and laces their fingers together tightly when he grabs on. Em tugs him gently out of the bathroom and down the hall back to his room. Colson leaves the lighter and the blade on the counter. 

When they’re back in bed, Em holds him differently than he has before, His arm feels weighted, it presses Colson gently down into the bed, unable to move from the hold. Em holds him from behind protectively and breathes into Colson’s neck. It’s so close it’s almost claustrophobic, but Colson wouldn’t pull away from it even if he could. The urge to hurt himself is immediately replaced by the need to burrow in closer to Em’s grounding touch. 

He falls asleep easily, letting the last of his shame and fear at Em’s reaction leave his body without a fight. 

In the morning, he goes to clean his stuff up in the bathroom, or to throw it away, but not to use it. When he gets there, the bag, the razor, and the lighter are nowhere to be found. Instead of being anxious at the loss, he feels a bit calmed by it. 

This isn’t the end. He won’t be able to stop hurting himself just because Em got rid of a few of his blades and one of his many designated lighters, but it is a start. 

Em knows now, he’s looking out for it. And if the way he always acts toward him, from the making sure Colson is eating to the cuddle last night is any indication, he’ll be there when Colson needs it. He’ll take care of him. 

[animemangasoul]

We Parted Ways A Long Time Ago

Summery: Lucius Fox is Tim's emergency contact number.

In which Bruce and Tim have drifted apart and Bruce doesn't realize it until it's a little too late.

Chapter: 5/4+ (Final)

“Tim isn’t coming back.”

Bruce freezes. One hand around the doorknob and the other clutching at the business card his son had left behind as a parting gift. “You don’t know that.”

“I do. He isn’t coming back B. He doesn’t want to.” The words are said carefully, almost gently, but there is no denying the steel behind them. Bruce grits his teeth. How dare Jason side with Lucius Fox. Tim needed him. Tim needed them. He was just confused and angry and Bruce could fix this. They could fix this. There was a way to make this all go away. There had to be.... because if there wasn’t then--

“You don’t know him like I do Jay--”

A short bark of laughter interrupts him, making Bruce swivel around, a glare burning in his eyes. Jason quirks an eyebrow in return. “I don’t think you know him as well as you think you do B.”

“Jason,” he grits out in warning.

“What? ” His second oldest scoffs. “You don’t believe me? Cuz I aint lying to you. You don’t know him anymore. He’s changed.”

Bruce wants to snap at him, wants to insist he knows nothing, wants tear at his own hair.

But more than anything he wants his son back. He wants Tim to know how much he loves him, how much he’s worth and how much it tore him inside seeing him walk away.  

He wants to shout at Jason too. Wants to scream how much he didn’t understand. That he couldn’t possibly understand because he wasn’t there. He wasn’t there when Tim dragged him back from the brink of insanity. Wasn’t there when Tim laughed with those sparkly eyes that saw the world differently. Wasn’t there when Tim cracked that one snide joke at Barry Allen’s expense that had Hal cackling for hours.  

None of his kids were there when Tim told him he felt safe by his side, despite the blood on his knuckles and the snare on his mouth. They weren’t there when Tim sat next to him as Bruce drove himself mad trying and failing to let go of the ghost of his dead son. Tim had been his anchor, had been his light, his hope, his robin.

His son.

He wanted to scream and rant and get angry, but--

But this was Jason.  

Jason who still cringed at loud noises when they took him off guard. Jason who died. Jason who he’d failed time and time again. Jason who’d finally started opening up and who sometimes laughed like the world wasn’t out to destroy him. His Jason. His boy.  

So instead of letting the floodgate crack open, he closes it shut, slams on the brakes and breathes. Eyes falling shut momentarily as he composes himself.  

“He belongs here Jay. With us. He belongs with us. Not with Lucius Fox and his family.”

Opening his eyes, he meets those of his son, holding them until the younger sighs and looks away first.

“What makes you think he aint perfectly fine where he’s at?”

Was Jason kidding?

“Because he’s a Wayne. He’s one of us. He’s one of mine. He belongs here, with his family.” With each word, his fingers tighten around the card and his chest constrict. Jason should know this, understand this. It was simple. It was right.

Of course Tim wasn’t fine where he was. Why would he? It was just the easier alternative. As long as Bruce told him he was welcome here, told him he had a home with him, Tim would come back. Bruce was sure of it.

“Do you even know why he fucking left!”

Startled at the abrupt shift in tone, Bruce narrows his eyes. “I don’t have time for this Jay. I--”

“No.”

“Jason...” he can’t quiet keep the bite out of his tone. “I can’t do this right now. I need to--”

“Need to what?” his son snaps, taking a step closer, eyes flashing green. Bruce frowns in concern. “The rep—Tim's probably at Foxes right now. What you gonna do? Drag him back by the hair?”

“Of course not!”

“Then what!” Jason was practically growling by now. The tint in his eyes even more prominent. “What you gonna do Bruce? Huh? Tim left! He left and he was fine, why can’t you just....” He trails off, fingers clenching and unclenching and---

He just doesn’t understand. Jay doesn’t get it and Bruce doesn’t have time for this.

“Jay, son--”

But again his second oldest cuts him off, arm slashing through the air to indicate how little he was willing to listen to him. “You can’t keep pretending everything is fine B! Cuz it aint. Fuck, it’s not fine. It hasn’t in God knows how long and...” Lips twisting into a something ugly, Jason runs a hand through his hair, puffing his cheeks before letting out the air in a quiet huff. “You keep acting like it’s some kinda small misunderstanding that ruined everything. And that isn’t true. It isn’t. You know it isn’t. This shit’s been long time comin and you need to accept that.”

It was as if with every word spoken a knife was dug into his soul, twisting, scarring, damaging. With every word out of Jason’s mouth, Bruce felt coldness seep into his veins, felt his heart twist, because.... because..... what if he was right? Did Bruce even know anything anymore?

World’s greatest detective,….

Him?

What a joke.

Yet, the words wouldn’t make sense. They wouldn’t fit together. As if him and Jason were playing too entirely different puzzle games and while they were the same in color, his pieces were infinitely more complex. More difficult to put together.

Jason didn’t understand. Jay was only now getting to know Tim, so he couldn’t understand their history. His relationship with his son.

“He’s my son Jay. I love him.”

It was as simple as that wasn’t it?

If you loved someone, you could eventually figure it out together, right?

Then why.....

Why did Jason’s last words stay with him all throughout the night. Long after he’d gone to bed? Long since he’d abandoned rushing after Tim. Long after Alfred and Jason had convinced him to wait till tomorrow, why did those words haunt him?

“You don’t love him. Not really. With me, with Dick, with all of us, you try and you apologize. But you never try with him. You just watch and tell him he aint good enough and that’s fucked up.” Jason’s eyes were wet. “I love you B. Course I do. And you’re doin right by me for the first time in forever, but that’s the problem aint it? Is your love like a zero-sum game or something old man? You don’t have it in you to care for your batch of fucked up orphans, equally?”

Closing his eyes tight, Bruce tries to sleep.

“Hey B.” Furrowed brows and red rimmed eyes. “How fucking tiny is your heart?”

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

Cassandra is halfway out the car when he reaches out and stops her. She pauses, registering the hand on her shoulder. Shifting back into her seat, his daughter gives him the softest of smiles before closing the door. “Yes?”

[How fucking tiny is your heart?]

He gazes out at the parking lot, fingers drumming absentmindedly against the wheel as he tries to collect his thoughts. Cass is nothing but patient. Her own hands folded delicately across her lap, not a single word out of her mouth to remind him she would be late for practice if he didn’t hurry up.

Bruce gut churns in guilt.

Clearing his throat, he looks down at his lap; brows furrowed and lips drawn in a thin line.

“Why did you call Lucas Fox yesterday?”

His daughter doesn’t miss a beat. “Tim want out. I help.”

Grip tightening around the steering wheel, Bruce grits his teeth. “He didn’t want out. He was just a little bit uncomfortable. We were going to fix things.”

“No fixing. Too late.”

Bruce tenses. A sick feeling crawling up his throat. If Cass was saying this-- “Why do you say... that?” Fumbling with the last word, Bruce curses silently, biting his tongue to stop himself from saying anything else he might regret, not that it mattered seeing as this was Cass he was talking to.

“Tim want home.”

“He has one,” Bruce says, words coming out fried at the edges. “With us.”

But his daughter is already shaking her head. “Tim want home,” she reiterates. Body still as a statue and eyes staring at something far in the distance. “He ask me. I say, not here. Your home not here. Your home, Lucius, Tanya and Tam and Luke. They home for you.”

“Why would you say that?” Because this was betrayal. His daughter had betrayed him. Went behind his back and practically ousted Tim from their family. And... he didn’t understand why.... Why would Cass do this? She loved Tim. More than anyone else, so why would she---

“I want Tim happy.” Her voice cracks at that, and for the first time Bruce notes the mild shake of her hands and the quivering of her bottom lip. “I want see Tim happy. Little brother deserve happy.” Reaching out to open the door, she steps out, Bruce too dumbstruck by her words to stop her. “Happy not with us. We need.... to.... understand.” With those last words she’s gone. Leaving behind the ghost of girl unwilling to cry at the face of loss and pain.

How was any of this fair?

How could his children expect him to accept this when they clearly did not want to lose their brother? How was Bruce supposed to just let this go when there still was a chance to mend fences and go back to how things used to be? Tim most have left him his business card for a reason. His son wanted to talk to him. Wanted them to fix things and Bruce wouldn’t let Lucius and his family get in the way of that. Not when the solution to all his problems was right in front of him.

Cassandra wouldn’t have to be sad anymore.

Dick wouldn’t have to look so heartbroken anymore

And Alfred and Jay and even Stephanie and Barbara. They all were walking around with a sizable hole in their lives and if Bruce could only find the son that fit in that hole, then he would have managed to do right be each one of them.  

He just needed to talk to Tim. To apologize. To make amends. He--- He just needed Tim to understand. Bruce might have been busy when he came back, but it was only because the others needed him more. Not because he didn’t care about his third son. He’d believed Tim had been better off, more well-adjusted, more in control, so of course he’d focused his attention on those who were already slipping through his fingers.

That didn’t mean he loved his boy any less.

Tim had to understand that, right? If he explained himself? If he---

It’s only eight in the morning, but Bruce already feels a bone chilling exhaustion fall like a blanked over his body and with a sigh, he pulls out of the parking lot and begins his drive to the company.

The sooner they fixed things, the better.

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

He arrives at Wayne Enterprises in daze. Barely taking note of the employees who jump out of his way as he strides by. Some try to talk to him, but one look from Bruce have them scurrying away and eventually Bruce is standing in front of Tim’s office. Stomach doing flip-flops and breath hitching slightly.

This was it.

Now or never.

He couldn’t mess this up. He couldn’t. For everyone, for Tim, for himself. He needed to get this right.

Knocking gently he waits for the soft “come in” before sliding the door open and finally stepping into the vaguely familiar office.  

It’s a bit different than he remembers. Just like Tim’s apartment, tons of homely objects have been left to decorate the previously barren space. Tim’s desk practically drowning in colorful pictures of his friends and the Fox family. And lighter tone had been added to the room, taking away the edge of gray and giving it more of a homely feel.

Swallowing tickly, Bruce tries not to linger on the changes. For they spoke of things he wasn’t yet ready to acknowledge.

“Hey Bruce.”

Stepping forward, Bruce echoes Tim’s smile with a tiny one of his own. “Hello Tim.”

“You said you wanted to talk.”

“I did.” Pulling out one of the chairs, he sits down. “That’s why I’m here.”

“Well then,” pushing the stack of papers aside, Tim folds his fingers under his chin and tilts his head. “Let's talk. I think it’s about time we do this too.”

Clenching his fists, Bruce stares at his son.

Sees the exhaustion in his eyes, sees the downtrodden face, sees how he’s trying his damn hardest not to show any emotion, and it burns. It burns and scorches his soul. Because Bruce and Tim should never have this kind of divide between them. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. It wasn’t supposed to happen at all.

The desk between them feels like an ocean. A distance so wide it prevents him from reaching across it to hold onto his kid. It feels as if he’s too late.

He wants to make things right. Tim is sitting right in front of him and he wants to make things right. He can do this. They can do this, so taking a deep breath he lets it all out.

“Why didn’t you come to me when things got bad?”

“What?” There is a twitch to Tim’s brow. His son leaning back slightly as if struck by his words. “What?”

Shaking his head, Bruce tries to keep his voice as gentle as possible. “When you started to feel the distance between us, why didn’t you come to me?”

Because.... how could they ever hope to fix anything if he couldn’t figure out why it happened in the first place. Sure he knew his busy schedule had robbed him of his third son, but what was Tim’s excuse? He’d known him for years. Years before Bruce himself died, and Tim should have known he could reach out. He’d always done it before. Reluctantly yes, but Tim had always reached out to him first when he needed him, so why?

For the first time it feels as if he’d finally gotten to the root of his frustration.

Tim hadn’t given him the chance to fix this. He’d just up and left and that wasn’t right. Because Bruce would have figured it all out with him, if his son had just given him the chance to do so, so why?

“Why didn’t you come to me son?”

“What makes you think I didn’t?” The words are soft, but Tim’s eyes are narrow and his teeth are clenched. “What makes you think I didn’t try?”

“I don’t rememb--”

“Of course you don’t,” Tim says, cutting him off; voice as soft as always but the sharpness behind them undeniable. Rubbing a tired hand across his brows he sighs. “That’s the whole point Bruce. You don’t remember.”

Taken back, Bruce frowns. “What do you mean?”

Shoulders bunched up and teeth gnawing at his bottom lip, Tim furrows his eyebrows, And Bruce.... Bruce finds himself reaching across the table unconsciously and gently tapping the other under the chin.

An all too familiar action that immediately stops Tim from abusing his lip. It takes his son a second to realize what he’d done, but when he does, he flinches away, a bone aching pain flashing through his eyes.  

Bruce stiffens, watching as his son scoots away from him and....

It was..... It hurts. Chest tightening, Bruce takes a deep breath and leans back, away from Tim.  

His son visibly relaxes at the motion and Bruce has to swallow down the sick sensation crawling up his throat. “What....” he starts again, trying to get them back to the conversation, trying to forget what just happened. “What do you mean? What did you mean by me not remembering?”

Tim shrugs. His face is still a bit too tight and his fingers drumming an unknown beat on the desktop. “I mean exactly that,” he says. “I came to you twice. Once after you had around two and a half weeks to relax and get to connect with the others, and....” there is a tiny wobble to his mouth when he says this. “You were in your office working on something and.... I came to maybe..... I just--” looking away, Tim fidgets with his suit jacket. “I wanted to see if you would like to have lunch together during break. I wanted to catch up with you, see how you were doing, how the others were and--” There is an undeniable hurt in his voice now, and it’s all Bruce can do not to cringe away from it. “It wasn’t anything big or--- I mean, it was just lunch. We were both in the building and I could finally maybe get to talk to you again, but.... You told me that you had plans with Dick and Damian and maybe I could come back another time.”

Bruce remembers that day with a sudden clarity.

[Not now Tim. Dick and Damian need me right now.]

[Please close the door after yourself when you leave.]

Oh

Oh

“There was never another time because you stopped coming to the office after that and saddled me with the rest of your work so you could spend more time with your family.” These words are almost spat out at him and---

He’d done that, hadn’t he. Sure it was the right thing to do at the time, but Tim, his son, his boy.... Tim had deserved better.

Was this why he was so close to Lucius? Was it Bruce who’d forced them together when he left? Was this all his fault?  

“The next time I came to you, I was sick.”

Bruce blood runs cold.  

No, God no. Please... please don’t say he had turned away his son when he was sick. Not Tim. Not Tim who lacked a spleen. Tim who got so easily sick. Tim who never asked for him, so for him to ask and for Bruce to---

“I contracted a virus while working a case and it didn’t get better.... it was bad B.” There is a sad smile curling around Tim’s lips and his kid shrugs, meeting his eyes. “I was gonna go to the future with Bart so his mom could try and fix me, and I called you to tell you.... so if you maybe--- If you could come with me? For support? But you didn’t even listen.”

[I can’t right now Tim. Damian got in trouble in school and I need to go pick him up. Another time, ok?]

And.... God, he feels sick.

Tim might have died and he hadn’t even listened to what he’d tried to say. No wonder the kid never--- Why did everything go so wrong?

“Lucius came with me instead. Lucius and Tanya.” Tim’s smile is bit more genuine this time. “They freaked out so much, you have no idea.” He looks very amused now. A true smile blossoming across his lips as he remembers his time in the future. “Tanya wouldn’t let go off me cuz she didn’t trust anyone there and Lucius couldn’t believe his eyes.... if I hadn’t been sick it would have been hilarious, cuz they were freaking out like crazy and they wouldn’t listen to Bart and their eyes.....”Tim shrugs, smile turning into a tired grin. “It was... nice. Having them there I mean. They came to the future because they wanted to make sure I was ok. They..... they’d never been to the future before, but still--- It was nice.”

Tim’s eyes are wet by now. He isn’t crying, his cheeks aren’t red and his nose isn’t running, but his eyes are wet and....  

They’d been there. Lucius and Tanya Fox.

Bruce hadn’t.  

His son might have died in the future. Might have never come back and.... he hadn’t been there.

“I’m.... I didn’t know Tim. I... I didn’t know it was that serious. If I had I swear---”

“I know,” Tim says, giving him a tight-lipped smile. “I know.”

But he doesn’t know. It’s clear as day that he doesn’t know. He’s just saying that to a peace him, and.... Bruce can’t let it end there. He can’t. Not like this.

“We can fix this.” He suddenly blurts out; not even thinking before he speaks. “We can fix this Tim. Let’s us fix this.”

Tim is already shaking his head before he’s even finished talking. “We,” he says waving a finger between them. “Can’t fix anything Bruce, because I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“That wasn't what I meant.”

“I know exactly what you meant. You literally just asked me why I didn’t come to you Bruce. It sounds like you blame me for this too.”

“I don’t blame you!”  

Slamming both hands on the table, Tim suddenly shoots up without warning. “Of course you do! You always do! I’m always at fault for every fucking thing!”

“That’s not true.”  

“Yes it is,” Tim snaps, eyes blazing and lips drawn back to show teeth. He’d never seen Tim this angry before. “You always pick out my flaws. Always. Never Jason or Damian or Dick. Just me. Never mind that you demon child--”

“Tim!”

“See,” Tim hisses, eyes wide and chest heaving. “You’re doing it right now! You always stand up for him. Always. But you never do the same for me. When he threatens me you never.... you and Dick you--” Blinking furiously, Tim sways slightly. “You always pick your kids over me.”

And.... it was as if he’d been hit by a sledgehammer.  

How could Tim think---

“You’re my kid too.”

Tim scoffs. It sounds broken. “Not really.”

“Tim--”

“If I was,” his son interrupts him, sitting back down with a sigh. “If I was your son, you wouldn't single me out every damn time. You wouldn’t let Damian talk like that to me. You wouldn’t let Jason and Damian try and kill me without facing consequences.... like I did.... with Boomerang. You---” A deep breath. “You wouldn’t let them hurt me, but you do, you always do, so I’m not your son. I’m not.”

Not his son?

Gritting his teeth, Bruce tries to breathe through the turmoil coiling in his stomach. Tim didn’t know what he was talking about. He was just angry right now. He was just--

But, did being angry take away the truth to his words?  

Did it make what he’d just said invalid?

Damian and Jason had tried to kill Tim on numerous occasions, and he’d never said anything to them.  

But when Tim spoke up.... how many times had he felt compelled to stop him? How many times? Tim.... he held his third oldest to a standard none of the others-- standards that went above and beyond what he held the others to. He held Tim to his own standards and anything below that was a disappointment.

That.....

That was wrong. Tim was just a kid. A kid with too much on his shoulders and he,…..

[How fucking tiny is your heart B?]

Damian hated Tim. Hated his brother and what had Bruce done to change that? Giving it time? Hoping they would somehow magically fix things between them and then what? Was Tim supposed to just sit there and deal with it till Damian found it in himself to stop?

What kind of parent did that make him?

It was as if every uneasy feeling he’d been hiding away suddenly bubbled up to the forefront of his mind. Every uncertainty, every fear, every worry. Everything he’d been shoving away in hopes of mending fences and going back to how things used to be.  

The wave that hit him almost rocked him out of his chair. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t---

Tim had suffered. Under his watch. His son had suffered in silence. Alone, in pain, uncertain, scared.... and Bruce had let it happen.

For a second it’s as if he can see it all. His son wandering the darkness of his own apartment. Patching up his own injuries with tiny whimpers because he can’t make himself go to the cave. Because he doesn’t feel like he’d be welcomed there.  

Tim who is working so hard in his lonely office, taking on too many projects until he eventually passes out. Tim who doesn’t smile as much anymore. Tim who stiffens when Dick hugs him. Tim who doesn’t belong with them anymore.

Tim who doesn’t want to belong with him anymore.

It’s hard to breathe. It’s hard to feel as if his very world isn’t falling apart all around him. It’s hard.... but he’s Bruce Wayne, and this wasn’t.... this wasn’t the time... so taking a mouthful of air, he shakingly looks up to meet Tim’s wide-eyed gaze. His son is halfway out of his chair, arm hoovering in the air, hesitant to touch him. And.... doesn’t that picture speak louder than any words.

“Hey, B? You ok?”

He nods. A jerk of his head that takes all the effort he has left to make happen. “Yes.”

“Ok, yeah. Ok. That’s good.” Tim sits back down, still an uncertain worry in his eyes, and Bruce can’t take it anymore.

“What can I do,” he says, cringing at the underlying pleading in his tone. “What can I do to fix this? Because we need you Tim. I need you.”

A shadow passes over Tim’s features and his kid stiffens. “There is nothing to be done,” he mutters. “I think it’s too late for that.”

No, no no no no.

“Son--”

Tim waves a hand, cutting him off. “I took on a job B. I took on a job too big for me and I pushed and pushed for more, but that’s all it was. A job. I filled a spot in your life you needed filled. I was the kid who saved Batman, and I was fine with that. I was ok with that. Helping you, I think it helped me in turn. But I’m done. I think we’re both done B.”

No, no no!

“I still need you.” He’s leaning forward again, not even caring about the unabashed pleading breaking through his voice loud and clear for all to hear. “You’re my son, my family. I can’t lose you. I need you Tim.”

“Well,” his son says, a croaked smile pulling at his mouth “I don’t need you, not anymore.”  

It’s like a knife in his heart, those words.

And all he can do is stare, watch as the dullness in his son’s eyes turn into a glimmer of determination. Watches as Tim steels himself for one last battle. “It was not my job to do right by you B. It wasn’t my job to save you. I shouldn’t have done any of that, because.... I was just a kid. It wasn’t my job to save you from yourself. It wasn’t my job. I should have never made it my job. You shouldn't have needed a kid to bring you back from the dark, but it happened. And we’re here now. So I just want to say this.” A pause as Tim folds his fingers atop of his desk and takes a deep breath. “I want so say to you, that you hurt me. You hurt me really badly B, and I don’t want to be hurt anymore.”

Bruce felt too many things to count then. Too many emotions, too many things. But most of all, he felt helpless.  

What else could he do, but to understand that he did this. He’d hurt Tim. His precious son who used to laugh like the summer itself. His son who’d told him Batman needed a Robin. His son who’d knelt down next to him; amidst the bloodbath and taken his hand. Not afraid of his darkness, not afraid of who he’d become. “It’s ok B,” he’d said, gloveless hand touching his face. “It’s ok B. You’re not alone anymore. I’m right here. Right here.”

Tim had been his anchor.

His life saver, his hope. Hope that he could be Gotham’s Batman again and Wayne Enterprise Bruce Wayne.

Timothy had saved his legacy and his life and---

“I’m sorry.” The words come out as nothing more than a whisper, but Tim still startles back, eyes wide and mouth agape. “I’m sorry,” Bruce continues, feeling the itch in his eyes intensify. “I was wrong. I wronged you. You... I hurt you--”

God, it was painful to speak. Painful to voice these things. Things he’d known but refused to acknowledge, and for what? So that he could keep living on in a blissful ignorance while Tim suffered?

What kind of monster did that make him?

“I should have done better by you. I failed you, and I’m sorry. I’m truly sorry Tim.”

“Yeah?” Fat drops of water spill past Tim’s cheeks.

“Yeah,” Bruce chokes out, blinking furiously to keep it all in. To not infringe on Tim’s sadness, to not ruin it for him. “Yeah.”

“Oh......Thank you B.”

He nods, biting his bottom lip hard to make it all stop. But then.... a gentle tap on his chin makes him startle and look up to meet Tim’s gaze. His son tapping at his own lip to indicate why he’d done what he did, and.... Bruce snorts, it sounds wet and hoarse. Tim grins back and Bruce finds himself smiling through the painful burn in his chest.

How familiar. How nostalgic.

“I love them you know.”

Bruce smile turns into a grimace, before he quickly pulls it back up. “The Foxes?”

Tim shakes his head, before he pauses. “Well yeah, but that’s not what I meant.” Wiping at his cheeks, he huffs. “I meant the others. Dick and Jason and...... All of them. “A pause. “I think I’ll always love them. More than I can ever love you if I’m being honest.”

That stung. It really did.

“And I’m sure,” his son continues, whispers floating past his smiling lips, eyes incredibly sad. “That they love me in turn. In their own way.” He shrugs.

“Then why--” Bruce starts, but again, Tim is there to stop him from finishing his sentence.

“I’ve learned,” he speaks up over him. “That without respect, love can never be enough. Not really. And I deserve respect Bruce. I do. Not because I’ve earned it, but because of who I am. That’s what family means. You don’t earn anything. You have it because they love you.” Folding his hands under his chin again, Tim tilts his head. And for the first time it strikes Bruce. How much his Tim has grown.

How truly different he’s become.

How he’s learned to express himself so well. Unafraid, eloquent, proud.  

He was so different.

And not his anymore. Not his.  

“Is this goodbye?” Tim nods, eyes shining wet and sad.  

“Yeah, B. I think it is.”

“But--”

“If you don’t want me to head the company anymore, after this, I understand.”

“That’s not--”

“Of course I wouldn't advice it. Since Damian’s still pretty young and I was already planning to hand it over to him when he’s older. But if you don’t trust me to--”

“Of course I trust you.”

Tim freezes.

Sighing, Bruce tries to collect himself. This was... it was too much. But he couldn’t let it all fall apart just yet. Not yet.  

“I trust you,” he reiterates. “I wouldn't take away your job just because.... You’re still my family Tim. Even if you don’t consider me as such anymore.”

His son flinches, but he doesn’t deny it. Maybe that hurts him more than anything else that had been said today. Maybe.

“My last name...” Bruce doesn’t know why he’s bringing it up. “I... you...”

Tim looks just as conflicted. “I would like to keep it,” Tim says in a rush. “Until Damian can take his position I mean. I don’t want to create a media frenzy so--”

“Yeah,” Bruce nods; feeling numb. “Yeah, ok. That makes sense.”

He was losing his son.

“Hey Bruce?”

He feels numb. Tired, just... tired. “Yes?”

Fidgeting in place, Tim leans forward trying to meet his eyes. Bruce can’t find it in him to avoid his gaze no matter how much it hurts. So he does, even though his very soul is screaming at him to just get out. To leave and never look back. “Can I give you an advice? About Damian?”

Scrunching up his nose, Bruce frowns. Why were they talking about Damian now? This wasn't about his youngest. This was about Tim and what Tim didn’t understa--- No. No, this wasn’t about that either. This was about Bruce and what he didn’t understand.

So, taking a deep breath and centering himself the best he could, he nods. “Go ahead. What do you need to say.”

Eyes lightening up, Tim smiles at him; it’s less worried, less uncertain and.... yeah, Bruce would sit here and listen to Tim ramble about anything and everything if it meant he could see him smile like that forever.

“Damian can’t be better all on his own B.” There is a light frustration to Tim’s voice that catches Bruce’s attention. “You need to teach him. He can’t learn it on his own. That’s not how growing up works, trust me.”

“I know you don’t like him--”

Scoffing, Tim shrugs. “That’s an understatement.”

“But,” Bruce continues, deciding to ignore the attitude. “He’s changed a lot. He is better. It’s just that he sometimes slides back whenever you visit.” Giving Tim an apologetic smile, he shrugs as well. “He’s working on it.”

Tim’s sighs, disappointment evident in his eyes as if he’d expected something of Bruce and he’d somehow ended up letting him down, again. “That’s the thing Bruce. You keep saying he’s getting better. And He is working on it. But.... why is he doing it alone? You and Dick somehow expect Damian to figure it all out and miraculously become a better human being while neither of you ever correct him on what exactly that entails. That’s not possible B. You need to do something before it’s too late.”

Too late.

Those two words had taken so much from him.

Too late.

Too late.

“Children need guidance B,” Tim cuts off his train of thought. “They need consequences. You need to give him that or Damian will grow up believing it’s ok to hurt people to get somewhere in life, and that’s not ok.”

For a second the world shifts and Bruce isn’t looking at Tim anymore. Instead its father sitting across the desk from him. Eyes as serious as ever and lips drawn into a grimace.  

He tells him hitting other boys to get what he wants isn’t ok. That consequences are the defining line of life and he; Bruce needs to be careful with the steps he takes. “You can’t hurt people and expect to get away with it Bruce. It’s not ok.”

Who would have thought Tim would grow up to remind him of his father?

It almost..... it almost brings him to tears. Seeing his dad in the son he’d left behind.

When had Tim grown up to be who he is today?

“I will do my best.” The words hitch in his throat, but they are clear enough and Tim, Tim smiles again and.... yeah, he would do his best. Perhaps it was time he put his best foot forward. For the sake of his family, for the sake of his kids. His best might not be good enough anymore. So perhaps it was time to do better than his best.

“That’s all I ask for B.”

The conversation seems to be coming to an end and Bruce knows it. Knows this might be the very last time he and Tim can sit across from each other and talk like this.  

The very last time.

“How did we get to this?”

A shrug and then a hopeless smile. “I don’t know B. Maybe it was always meant to go like this.”

It’s not right. It shouldn’t be right.

“So,” he says, feeling as if everything he’d ever known was suddenly crumbling down around him, piece by piece. “This is it? We part ways and never.... And never---” He can’t find it in himself to finish the sentence.  

Tim smiles, it’s a sad smile. A resigned one. Accepting, hallow. “We parted ways a long time ago B. You just never realized it before now.”

[How fucking tiny is your heart B?]

How tiny indeed that he hadn’t even noticed his son drifting away until there was nothing left connecting them to each other but his own grand delusions.  

Somehow in the midst of his turmoil, Lucius Fox arrives. Slamming the door open, a frazzled Tam Fox at his heels.  

It all feels so far away.

Bruce turns around to look at them both. Watches as Lucius Fox scolds Tim for going to work when he’d told him explicitly that he’d take care of the paperwork and it hits Bruce once more.

How right Tim was.

Bruce hadn’t even taken note of Tim being in his office when he’d been sick just two days ago. But Lucius had. Rushed to the office the minute he found out probably. What did that say about him?

Blinking slowly he watches as Lucius pulls Tim out of his chair, pressing a hand across his forehead than tsking in disapproval before collecting his things; not for one second sparing him a glance.

And it’s all too much.  

It’s all so..... final.

When Lucius hands Tim over to his daughter; Tam leading Tim out of the office, a scolding tone to her voice, Bruce has already turned away. Not wanting to witness the physical manifestation of his son walking out of his life.

“Bye Bruce.”

He stiffens.

Eyes squarely resting on his lap for a second. It’s..... it’s all over, isn’t it?

“Goodbye Tim.”

“He doesn’t look back, doesn’t raise his head afraid the reflection from the windows will show him what he’s trying so desperate to avoid seeing. He doesn’t look up until the door finally swings shut and he’s alone in the office. Well, not alone per say.

“I never took you for a coward Mr. Wayne.”

Bruce scoffs. It’s a bitter and an angry sound. His fists clench around his knees and he meets the steady gaze of one Lucius Fox.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Lucius.”

The other man lifts a brow, hands stuffed in his pockets. “I always wondered when you’d realize. And then time passed and you never did, so I figured you didn’t care.” The last words aren’t said any harsher than any of the others, but they hold a steel under them that’s unmistakable.  

Bruce is on his feet before his mind even has time to contemplate the action. “I care about all of my kids, Lucius.”

This time it’s Lucius who scoffs. “Not equally, but sure.”

Bruce wants to be angry. Wants to just lose it on Lucius Fox. Wants to blame him for everything that had gone wrong ever since this man had made himself at home in Tim’s life. But.... he can’t.

Because reluctant as he is to admit it, Lucius had saved Tim while he’d failed him. Protected him, gave him a place in his family and had shown him nothing but love ever since. He hated Lucius Fox, not because the man stole Tim from him.

No, he hated Lucius Fox because the man managed to be the father to Tim that he never could. Lucius Fox was the winner in a game no one but Bruce had been playing. And he hated him for it.

“Tim,” he says finally, eyes far away and throat burning at the words he is unwilling to say. “You will keep him safe?”

Lucius gives him a hard stare. Face grim and eyes dark with something Bruce can’t quite decipher. And then the man nods. “I don’t plan to let him down anytime soon.”

Nodding, Bruce is careful not to waver where he stands. He can’t afford to show weakness, but at the same time, this was his friend. His friend who chose to do right by his son because he himself wasn’t competent enough to get the job done. “Ok then. Ok.”

A final stare from Lucius as if the man expects him to say something else, but when he doesn’t, Lucius moves past him and its only when he is at the door; Bruce back turned to him, that he speaks. “I respect you as a hero Bruce, I always have. But it has been a long time since I last respected you as a father.” And with those last parting words he’s out the door and gone.  

Leaving Bruce standing by the chair. Eyes dull and chest hallow.

It was the end wasn’t it?

The final line.

Timothy Jackson Drake Wayne had made his chose and he hadn’t chosen them.  

Suddenly it becomes all too hard to stand so he sits back down, hand coming up to his face, shaking, uncontrollable. It’s not easy realizing you were the bad guy all along.

When tears slide down his cheeks, Bruce only covers his eyes and lets himself cry. Silent, alone.... alone. His shoulders shake and his throat tightens, and Bruce Wayne cries.

For Tim who’d been so bright and hopeful until he’d met him. For Dick who he’d saddled his legacy on without care. For Jason who he’d never allowed himself to mourn. For Damian who he’d failed before he’d even started. And for Cass whose many chances he didn’t deserve. He cries for his kids that he still had and for the kid he’d just lost. He cries. And it doesn’t make anything better. Doesn’t make Tim come back or makes Jason to forgive him. Doesn’t make the haunted look in Dick’s eyes fade away or makes Damian someone he isn’t. It doesn’t erase those red rimmed eyes of Cass. But it makes him accept it all.  

Accept that he’d messed up.  

He did that.

No one had made him do it. No one had forced his hand.  

He had failed Tim and there was no taking it back now. No getting around it. No winning it or resetting to try again. Because it wasn’t a game and Bruce wasn’t coming out on top. This wasn’t a comic book. Batman wouldn’t win this time, because there was nothing to win.

So he lets the hot tears carve a path down his cheeks and he sits there, alone, hand pressed across his eyes and he cries.

He cries.

Hours later Alfred rests a hand on his shoulder and sighs. “Perhaps we may learn from this Master Bruce.” His voice cracks. Bruce doesn’t comment.

Perhaps.  

The End

@miss-choco-chips

@throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen

@river9noble

Finally it’s all over. It has been a ride folks. I might write some one-shots connected to this universe when I find the time, but no promises. That’s all. Thank you for sticking with this story for as long as you did! I appreciate it! Bye!

[ramblingguy54]

MHA’s Current War Arc

What has really struck me about MHA’s current arc in the manga is how well it reverses that concept of pure heroism showing what has become of characters like Shigaraki, Dabi, and Twice as the first ones that come to my mind. Sure they’re doing despicable acts currently, but what drove them to that notion? Society’s neglect toward them, as well as heroes playing a big part in that combination, too. Nana Shimura made a big decision to cut a grandson outta her life, due to her reputation as a famous hero leading to Shigaraki suffering a life of abuse and emotional solitude snapping him into a bloodcurdling screaming rampage of hatred toward the world. Twice hit someone with his bike, despite obeying the speed limit, and it went into a downward spiraling domino effect that ruined his self-esteem making crime feel like was the only thing left for himself. Dabi, aka Touya Todoroki, suffered greatly under God knows what kind of shit Endeavor put him through. Serious emotional neglect, abused beyond belief, and probably got those scars on his body, due to the intensive training his father put him through. A society based around priding itself in heroism aint all what its cracked up to be when these heartbreaking variables are thrown into the mix. It shines a darker light on heroism being dangerous for those connected to people, who’ve made it their entire life’s work to save others’ lives. It’s very important to show the effects it can have upon their families, friends, acquaintances, etc.  

All of this comes down to an important moral conflict. Are villains disasters of their own making or are heroes and society what led into them becoming who they are now? 

Sure, the antagonists should take responsibility on some level because the past doesn’t entirely define who you are. Although, the fucked up part of it all is society and heroes have played an importance in churning out not only heroes like Nana Shimura, All Might, and Gran Torino in the past, but the villains to boot. I mean, Gentle Criminal’s backstory, even though it was a smaller conflict, contributes to a consistent ongoing message MHA goes on to make a point about. Gentle tried to help save someone with the misuse of his powers and was spit upon by just about everyone in his life with civilization. MHA’s world is simply its own best friend and worst enemy on that perspective taking so much of these factors into account. It creates along with destroys peoples’ lives in the process. Nana Shimura didn’t want to separate herself from her own grand child. It was because she was a hero some decisive choice needed to be made having consequences on both ends of the spectrum for Shigaraki and Nana, too. Their dynamic makes a horrific punchline that the life of a heroism can be a blessing, yet a terrible curse in disguise. MHA has done an excellent job showing these pros and cons of deciding to take on a life of heroics when you’ve got a family needing to be taken into account for what it could mean for future events.

Sorahiko, I have no son...

MHA highly praises ideals of heroism, yet goes on to display why it’s such an awful burden to bear on your own heart. Whether you’re looking at Nana Shimura or Touya Todoroki’s disturbing reveal of how came to be who he is, it only goes on to reinforce that heroism and villainy aren’t all that different from each other in a twisted sense. Each side can change a person’s life forever in MHA’s world of characters for better or worse, as seen with the entirety of the League’s evolution of standing together as screwed up guys of this highly flawed system of their’s. Heroes & Villains are cut from the same cloth in that way for how much they can shake up the status quo around someone’s resolve. Look no further than the hero killer, Stain’s, ambitions inspired from All Might’s unwavering personality to be a selfless hero aspiring in saving anyone and everyone. One of the biggest praises I can sing of this story is they’ve been able to incorporate so many determining stakes adding such high emotional stakes to the story. It’s not just one big thing in danger of being destroyed, like an important character’s life. The entirety of everything their world stands for is in jeopardy that could change permanently with each passing tragedy.

THE PAST NEVER DIES!!!

Something Touya takes full advantage of in the most diabolical way, by broadcasting his origins across everywhere he can reach. He’s sticking it to his father, Endeavor, in more ways than one. Touya is knocking him off the pedestal of being number one hero, while hitting everyone in the gut that he’s got big demons from his past. Touya is one of those terrifying demons, taking note of every scar on his body that was most likely received from a combination of abusing his flames too much in training, while other were probably from Endeavor beating him as punishment possibly. Dabi’s reveal is haunting, saddening, and a reminder of everything his father is trying to forget. You can’t outrun your past, ever. All you can do is confront head on for everyone else to see. Touya isn’t letting him get off the hook, wanting their civilization to see his humiliation of being called out, where he’s a literal receipt of Enji Todoroki’s parental neglect. Shoto thought he had it bad? God, he’s about to go down a rabbit hole about how much his father dropped the ball with this kid here.

This arc is gonna challenge everything heroes stand for further and I’m totally here for that juicy angst. This has been one Hell of a trip for sure, showing the horrifying ramifications heroes and villains have had on society.

[sergeant-donny-donowitz]

Mr & Mrs. Donowitz (DonnyxFem!Reader)

Requested by @tremendousjudgesuitcasestudent

@owba-chan @war-obsessed @inglourious-imagines @tealaquinn @struggling-bee @frozenhuntress67 @kwyloz @sodapop182

Let me know if you wanna be added to the IB or OUATIH taglists! :)

____________

**1946**

Donny had never read a book in his life, but there he was, sitting on a recliner, holding one. A parenting book, no less, surrounded by stacks of pages filled with baby names, and warnings, diagrams and possible allergies.

He had always been the guy that never had to try real hard to be good at something...but he wanted to be the best at this.

He knew he could nail the whole 'game of catch' thing...but he wanted to be so much more than that. 

He wanted to be that dad.

So he got his hands on every thing he could, went with you to every single doctor's appointment.

Still, he'd never admit he was nervous.

"Come on, me? Psh..." He'd chuckle as he'd quickly rifle through the pages, quizzing himself. As the months went by, he got a bit too paranoid. "Come on doll, I'll do the dishes, don't-"

You laughed, "Donny, I'm a nurse, I know what I'm doin' love."

He'd sigh, and wonder why you were always so stubborn.

He was sitting on the couch, and you were stretched out over his lap. Both of you were just about ready for bed, when you felt a little kick.

You chuckled sleepily, "Guess who's up."

Donny laughed, "Oh we got a little rebel, huh?" You took Donny's hand, and put it over your stomach, just in time to feel another little kick.

Part of Donny's hand was scarred from the fire in the theater. He was proud of what he'd done, but he wondered if his skin was too rough to hold his baby... And sometimes, he didn't know his own strength, what if he-

"Hey..." You knew that look, "You're gonna be a great dad."

"What if...what if I'm not ready...."

You glanced at the mile high stack of baby books in the corner, and chuckled, "Don't sell yourself short, love."

He smirked, "Me? Never. Ain't that right, kid?"

He felt another kick, and laughed, "Well, Y/n, you thought I was bad, now I got a teammate."

You muttered, "Don't even start with that, you basterd." and Donny smirked, "Don’t curse in front of the baby!"

You sighed, and leaned back agaisnt his lap. Something told you that kid was going to take after Donny. The  baby was already restless enough.

You were just beginning to fall asleep, when you felt something else...

Not quite a kick, or turn...nothing like you'd felt before.

You shifted a little, and thought maybe it was nothing.

But you couldn't be wronger...

You felt it again, minutes later.

Your eyes shot open, "Oh..."

Donny mumbled, half asleep, "Yeah doll?"

"Oh no..." You sat up, and Donny shot to his feet. "What do ya mean 'oh no?' Are you alright?! What's ha-"

You suddenly groaned in pain and doubled over, as you managed to mumble through clenched teeth, "It's time..."

"It's ti..IT'S TIME. OK. oK?! I'LL DRIVE YOU TO....NO! AMBULANCE. THAT'S"

"Donny."

"WhAT?!"

"Stay calm."

"I aAM calm."

You rolled your eyes,  and chuckled, "Stay calm. Breathe."

"I'm FUCKING CALM Y/N, WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT. OK. WE CAN DO THIS..."

"Fucking....ok.... Donny, there's no time. Listen...this baby is-" You groaned again, and he reached for your hand.

You nearly broke his in your iron grip.

He didn’t really mind. "Doll?"

"Call the midwife. This kid is coming right now."

"Right now-right now? Or right-now in a few hours?"

"RIGHT NOW RIGHT NOW, DONNY. GO."

He couldn't help but smile, "OK, I GOT IT."

"WHY ARE YOU SCREAMING?"

"WHY ARE YOU SCRE....Oh right.... Ok, I'll be back, just...here," He helped you back down, and then rushed down the hall. It hurt his knee to run, a remnant from the night the war ended, but he knew you hurt so much more, so he ran. He ran for you.

He passed a room painted in pastel and bright colors, and he slowed down a little, his hand brushing against the doorway as he rushed to the phone, a little smile beginning to play on his lips, for a brief moment. 

You started controlling your breathing, looking down, you sighed, with a laugh "Just as impatient as your father." You could hear Donny, all the way on the other side of the house as he called the midwife.

Every other word that came out of his mouth was a four-letter-word.

The widwives understood, but, it was a bit embarassing for you.

It was then that you heard him say "I AM FUCKING CALM," just before hanging up.

He was in fact, not fucking calm.

It wasn't long before the midwife showed up.

"Mr. Donowitz, please."

He stopped in his tracks. He still wasn't used to being called that.

He still worked in his father's barber shop, and there, everyone still called him Donny.

Good old Donny. He hadn't changed a bit...everyone said so.

It was that, or a journalist or two popping by for an interview, and calling him sergeant out of respect.

But ‘mister’?

He still wasn't used to that...

But he was used to following orders, and in a way, it calmed him down. . "Hot water and clean towels. Go."

Donny brought everything in, and found that you were no longer in the living room.

"Y/n?!"

He heard a pained and rather annoyed "WHAT?!"

He couldn't help but smile a little as he rushed to the bedroom, and set everything down.

And stood there.

The midwife shook her head, and tutted "Out out out out!"

Donny was a little taken back, "Out?"

"Nervous husbands always bungle something up!"

"I'm not nervous!" Donny got a bit defensive, and pouted a bit.

Any other moment you would’ve found that absolutely adorable...but not now.

The midwife rolled her eyes, "No. You're damn near shitting yourself."

In the blink of an eye, he found himself outside. That lady had quite some experience with doting husbands. And now, she had quite some experience with veterans, who all swore they weren’t nervous (and then ended up getting concussions or stitches from passing out).

"But-"

The door slammed in his face, and he sighed.

He figured he'd get some air...he'd never admit it, but the midwife was right.

He made his way to the front yard and started pacing around.

He could hear the screams and somehow, his heart was racing faster than it ever did in the war.

Then he heard something he hadn't heard you say in years...and somehow this time it sounded like you meant it, "I'M GONNA KILL YOU. I'M GONNA FUCKING KILL YOU WHEN THIS IS OVER! FUCK!"

Donny couldn't help but grin a little. He made his way to the window, and peeked in, "Yeah? That's what you said in Lyo-"

The midwife grumbled something Donny only ever heard basterds and sailors say, as she grabbed the curtains and shut them.

Donny sighed, leaned against the wall, and lit a cigarette to calm his nerves.

He put the lighter back in his pocket, and felt a piece of paper.

He pulled it out, and smiled.

It was a letter from Aldo. It was addressed to both of you. A congratulations, and a few name suggestions (Aldo was a good name for a boy, ya know). And a promise to come visit the "lil 'un" soon.

Donny sighed and put the letter back in his pocket. He'd gotten a letter like that from each of the basterds. Each one giving some advice or name.

Each one being a bit of a cheeky basterd.

Donny smiled, he missed them, the way they all sat around together. All the things they lived through together... There were things he wished he could forget, but, he did miss those boys. Still, he wouldn't give up the life he had now for anything in the world.

Suddenly, the memories flew away and his feet were back on the ground.

He was back.

And he could hear the screaming intensify.

It was unsettling...

He furrowed his brow, and tried to get it together for your sake.

"Y/n?!"

You'd gone through a whole war together. War came with bullets. It came with pain. It came with bombers and fear and grenades.

He'd never heard you like that before, and it terrified him.

He panicked.

He didn't give a fuck what the midwife said. He didn't care what anyone said.

Most fathers stood around with cigars in a waiting room.

But Donny had been with you, and you were with him, during the worst moments of the war. He was dead set on being with you in the scariest/best day of your lives.

He set out his cigarette, and matched back in, slamming the door open, as the midwife sputtered incredulously, "MR. DONOWITZ-"

"Look nurse," he rolled up his sleeves, "Me and Y/N been through a lot together. We went to war together, we came back together. Let me be here for this. Just tell me what to do."

"Alright! alright!" She turned to you and chuckled, "You're right, he is a stubborn one."

You managed to smile a little.

He did everyrhing he was told to do, but it didn't make it any less scary.

You looked like you were in so much pain, it killed Donny to not be able to do anything about it.

"IS SHE ALRIGHT?!"

His heart tied a knot in his throat as he was thrown back to what was one of the darkest moments in the war. A grenade had been thrown, Utivich was holding you, you were covered in your own blood, and Donny was wide-eyed, demanding to know "IS SHE ALRIGHT?!"

Suddenly he heard an answer, back in the present.

Along with a chuckle.

"She's alright, Mr. Donowitz, just perfectly fine."

He smiled down ar you "Hear that, doll? You're doin great, just breathe..." He moved some hair away from your face as he held your hand and looked back at the midwife. "And the kid? How's my kid?"

You narrowed your eyes, "Your kid? Your fucking kid Donny are you fucking kidding me?!"

He laughed and kissed you on the forehead, "Sorry, sorry, our kid."

"I swear if you even THINK OF HAVING ANOTHER ONE..."

Donny smiled, "I know, doll, I know."

The midwife chuckled as she looked up, "One more push now, Mrs."

Donny smiled and looked down at you. For a moment, everything stood still...

Mrs. The word rang in his ear and he couldn't help but think of the first time he saw you, lined up with all the other basterds. His heart had skipped a beat and he grimaced as he tried to keep you out, thinking "Come on, now...that aint ever gonna happen..."

And here you were.

Mrs.

He smiled and snapped back, just in time to see a soft green towel being wrapped around a tiny little thing.

In that moment, there was music again in Donny’s world, no longer drowned out by engines, boots, and guns.

The first note was a loud, defenceless cry, and it broke his heart.

The moment he laid eyes on the baby, he knew that kid would break his heart every time he heard that little cry.

A part of him couldn't believe it, as the midwife held up the baby, he managed to blurt out, "B....baby..."

You laughed as a wave of relief and love like you'd never known before, as the midwife walked over with the baby. "Yeah, Don...a baby."

The midwife smiled, "Congratulations Mr. and Mrs. Donowitz, it's a beautiful baby girl!" Mr. Donowitz...not a sergeant anymore... Mrs. Donowitz...not corporal L/N anymore.

She set the baby down in your arms and you couldn't bear to take your eyes off her, that tiny little thing. Your heart was heavy in that moment, knowing that baby would get hurt as she grew up. She'd scrape her knee, she'd lose a teddy bear, she'd fall off a bike, she'd fall in love, then fall out and back again.

You looked at Donny smiling, knowing you'd both be there for her along the way.

The moment the baby looked at Donny, she stopped crying.

You smiled and said, "You know you'll have to help eventually."

Donny chuckled as he planted a soft kiss on your forehead and said, "I know doll."

He hesitated a little.

She looked so small compared to his hand as he reached out. And.... He was known for his brute strength. A million questions and worries filled his head.

Then the midwife nudged him with a chuckle, "Go on then, dad."

Dad...

He was barely getting used to being called Mr. Donowitz...

But his heart melted when he looked at the baby and he thought '...I'm a dad...'

You nodded at him and smiled, "it's ok, Don."

He then took his baby girl in his arms and his whole world lit up.

He sat on the bed by you, only then realizing his knees felt like jelly from all the emotion.

"So, what are we gonna name her?"

Donny smirked, "Ya know...Aldo suggested Aldora. Said it's 'respectable as all hell.'"

You laughed a little, "Maybe....not..."

Donny chuckled as he looked down at the baby, and softly rubbed the back of his finger on her cheek. She babbled and nestled into his arms.

"Maybe Leah?"

You smiled and nodded "Leah..."

Donny smiled softly, thinking of all the things he wanted to teach her.

As soon as she could walk he was planning on teaching her how to bat.

But...he sighed softly seeing just how tiny the baby was, and thought there would be enough time for that later.

"Hi Leah," he chuckled as he rocked her a little.

She wrapped her hand around his finger and his heart practically burst, but all he could say was a loving little "Lee..."

He wrapped an arm around you as you both looked at your baby, "Aldo’s gonna be real disappointed, huh?"

Donny chuckled as he watched Lee fall asleep, "Gee, that's too bad, huh doll..."

In that moment, his life was full. His knee didn't hurt. He didn't worry about hurting his baby. He realized he was just being paranoid all along.

In other words...he was just being a dad.

But... If anyone else ever hurt his baby, well then...he had a bat he could dust off.

But that's besides the point.

You were together now, back in Boston.

It was clear now that the war was over this time.

He looked around and saw what he was fighting for.

He didn't care what Aldo thought. Save that earful for the reunions.

He cared about you and Leah.

When he was with his family, nothing else seemed to matter.

Not Kino, not the war, nothing else.

Just you, and Leah... And he was sure he could convince you to have another one...maybe two...

Either way, this was enough.

The medals and the newspapers and history books would speak for themselves.

But for Donny, maybe the civilian life was something he could get used to again.

Just Mr. And Mrs. Donowitz, from now on, with a little one... or two...

To Donny, that was more than enough.

[shemakesmusic-uk]

Alt-pop newcomer LVRA (pronounced loo-rah, real name Rachel Lu) has shared her first new track of 2021, ‘DEAD’. Following up on 2020’s debut EP LVCID, she explains: “There’s a unique power you gain when you stop caring about what people think of you. It’s an ongoing battle, though, and ‘DEAD’ is about the conflict between the fantasy of not caring and how you feel in reality. The video captures that, with a version of myself who has her shit together and another that is fighting to survive.The use of red represents fear in the human condition, but in Chinese culture it also symbolises happiness. One rarely comes without the other.” The track – a cultural mix that matches LVRA’s heritage with bleeding edge ultra HD pop – is the first taster of a second EP, which is set to follow later this summer. You can check out an Oscar McNab (Lacuna Common, Oscar Lang). directed video above. [via Dork]

Los Angeles artist Wallice follows debut single 'Punching Bag' with new coming of age anthem, '23'. Wallice finds herself caught between two places on fresh cut, '23'. “Too old to be a runaway”, but also too young to consider herself as grown up, the 22-year old yearns for a past that still has not happened yet. Working with producer David Marinelli since her return to California, Wallice has crafted a sound that is unique without taking itself too seriously. An angst-driven remonstration at the powerlessness of her age, '23' is also the clearest stamp of her musical identity to date. The expression of this purgatory is a cathartic garage-rock headbanger complemented beautifully by Wallice’s playful lyrics. “I just can't wait to be / all grown up and 23,” she admits in the song’s irresistible chorus. “Tell me what is wrong with me / I miss my Ohio fake ID”. In artfully portraying the limbo state of the age, Wallice describes the events in her life that have led to her own disaffection. “It’s hard not to compare your own professional success to that of your similarly aged peers. I dropped out of university in New York after studying Jazz Voice for a year, and my dad was VERY disappointed, to say the least, so it was hard not to feel like a loser in that sense. “The specific age 23 doesn’t have any milestones associated with it, but it’s more the idea of just looking forward to the future,” Wallice continues on the meaning of the track. "Much like how people ‘reset’ every new year, it’s comparable to be ‘older and wiser’ with each birthday, but instead of constantly looking to the future, it is important to be happy with where you are”. [via Line Of Best Fit]

Coach Party have shared their new single 'Everybody Hates Me'. The Isle of Wight group are gearing up to release their incoming EP, with After Party pitting their potent indie pop influences against bittersweet lyricism. Out shortly, the EP is teased by new thumper 'Everybody Hates Me', with Coach Party adding a neat gloss to their guitar pop sound. Out now, 'Everybody Hates Me' comes equipped with a neat video steered by Daniel Broadley. Vocalist Jess Eastwood comments: “‘Everybody Hates Me’ isn’t a metaphor for anything; it’s literally about those times when you convince yourself that everyone, including your best friends don’t actually like you, and your self-confidence is so low that you don’t even blame them. Disguise that sentiment in an up-beat singalong, and there you have the third single from our new record. The video is a direct extension of the song. It swings between the insecurities of feeling like you’re not good enough amongst your friends, and the sense of unity you get from those same people when you finally wake up from your rut. Everyone feels that way from time to time, but you gotta remember that sometimes your irrational self is going to take over. And when it does, try to remember that you’re awesome, and your friends really are your friends.” [via Clash]

Pussy Riot have gone hyperpop on their latest song 'Toxic'. The Dorian Electra collaboration features glitched out production by Dylan Brady of 100 gecs and tackles a relationship gone bad. Written, directed, and edited by Pussy Riot’s Nadya Tolokonnikova, the music video features jarring, bloody imagery matching Brady’s production. “Care about yourself, cherish your mental health, and stay away from relationships that poison you!” Tolokonnikova writes in the YouTube description. “Amen.” In the song’s lyrics, Tolokonnikova tells off an ex. “You are my daily poison so annoying,” she sings. “You’re even more toxic than my employer.” The hook continues the theme. “This combo is deadly — ’cause we used to be friendly,” Electra laments. “And now my heart is a weapon / You made me… toxic.” [via Consequence of Sound]

Baby Queen has dropped a brand new track, ‘These Drugs’. Bella Latham’s second new track of the year – following up on the anthemic ‘Raw Thoughts’ – she explains in an Instagram post: “This is a story I really needed to tell you and I didn’t know how to for a long time. When I first wrote this song, I honestly didn’t think I was going to be allowed to release it or that releasing it would be a particularly good idea. It just felt really important and that’s all I’ve ever wanted music to be; so I knew I had to share it with you.I was in a very bad place at the time… very depressed and convinced I wasn’t a good person and didn’t deserve good things. Life is different now. I’m happy. I’ve learnt that the antidote to my misery is gratitude and caring about myself even when I don’t want to, until it becomes a habit. It’s natural to look for escapism but there’s more freedom in working to build a life you like… and by that I literally just mean learning to love yourself. You, with all your scars and all your regrets, are home to an actual life! You’ve been through so much and you’ve come out the other side stronger because of it – it’s remarkable really. You’ve got to invite the sad parts of yourself in to have a tea party with you. Don’t ignore them and cover them up. If you don’t look at them, they’ll make themselves seen! You are so worthy of love and I hope that if you don’t see that yet, you will learn to in time. Anyways guys,” she finishes, “this is all very intense. I love you very much and I hope you can understand and relate in some way.” [via Dork]

Greentea Peng has shared her new single 'Nah It Ain’t The Same'. The UK neo-soul voice is an outstanding talent, someone who pushes herself further into that hip-hop / jazz nexus with each release. Produced by Earbuds, new single 'Nah It Ain't The Same' is out now, one that reflects the chemistry she has with her live band The Seng Seng Family. Dipping into drum 'n' bass, her vocals have a calming, beatific feel, with 'Nah It Ain't The Same' tugging at matters personal. She comments: “Deliberations of a (hu) MAN, subject to the pendulum's swing, I give you ‘Nah It Aint The Same’ off my album MAN MADE. An expression and exploration of my utter confusion and inner conflicts amidst shifting paradigms.” Greentea Peng stars in the new video, with Machine Operated sculpting the video. [via Clash]

renforshort has debuted a brand new single, ‘virtual reality’. The first taster of a forthcoming second EP, the track sees her “connect” with Kellen Pomeranz (Pom Pom), Jesse Fink and Beabadoobee collaborator Pete Robertson. “’virtual reality’ is a song that tackles many topics. But at its core, it really is about anxiety, routine, boredom, isolation, loneliness, and fear,” she explains. “I think a lot of people have a very unhealthy relationship with technology because it’s never really been restricted enough to consider mental health and overall health, and that has fucked so many people up, now more than ever. Ever since I was young, social media has played a major role in my mental wellbeing, and I became so accustomed to it, it became a part of my routine and it came before everything else. The moment I wake up, almost instinctively, I check my phone. Depending on what I see in the morning, basically determines how I’m gonna feel for the rest of the day. I hate it. But I can’t stop. And what’s most ironic about this all is you’re likely going to read this on social media or listen to the song on some sort of electronic device…” [via Dork]

Flock of Dimes has shared the second single from her forthcoming album Head of Roses, out April 2 via Sub Pop. Following recent single, 'Two', 'Price of Blue' is another standout from Wasner’s second solo LP, an album that showcases her ability to embrace new levels of vulnerability, honesty and openness, combined with the self-assuredness that comes with a decade-plus career as a songwriter, producer, multi-instrumentalist and prolific collaborator. It comes accompanied by an unearthly new video filmed in black and white, co-directed by Wasner with Graham Tolbert. Wasner says: “This song is about trying, and failing, to connect. It’s about the ways in which, despite our best efforts, we misunderstand each other, and become so attached to stories that we’re unable to see the truth that’s right in front of us. And it’s about the invisible mark that another person can leave on your body, heart and mind long after their absence. It can be difficult to make sense of the memory of your experience when the reality on the surface is always shifting—when the story you’re telling, or the story you’ve been told, unravels, leaving you with a handful of pieces and no idea how they used to fit together.”

Berlin-based indie-soul five-piece, People Club, announce their new EP Take Me Home, which is due May 7 and the band are sharing the title-track and new video. The title track 'Take Me Home' is a song about the realisation of mortality in old age and the cynicism that often plights the elderly after losing their loved ones and being left alone with their regrets. It is accompanied by a music video shot by long standing collaborator, Felix Spitta. Speaking of the process the band say, “Once again we worked with our very talented friend, Felix Spitta, who also shot the video for our last single Francine.  We basically spent a day fooling around at his house with a smoke machine and an old tape TV camera with a red filter.  The result is hazy and disorientating, just like this year has been so far.”

Introducing MARY., the dreamy alter-ego of musician and songwriter Stef T. The self-produced debut track, ‘Day to Day’, interlaces elements of electro-pop and R&B with a voice that enchants, along with an official video filmed, edited and directed by David Risdon and Charlie Rose Creative. Reading like a page in a diary, ‘Day to Day’ offers a candid and emotionally raw glance at being overlooked as a woman in a man’s world. She is put together, glamorous and poised on the outside, but on the inside she is simmering like a pot ready to boil over, fed-up and on the brink of snapping. Speaking of the track, Stef T explains, “’Day to Day’ is a reflection on what it is to be a woman in a role where you are always unseen; constantly giving yet never receiving. As woman, we are often undervalued for our day to day work in all aspects - as mothers, in relationships, in our careers; having to push extra hard to get the basic recognition and thanks that we are entitled to. This song is a commentary of a large part of my life where I settled, sacrificed and worked, only to be used and taken for granted. It is about learning to survive a toxic relationship, discover your own individual worth again and reclaim the power that you gave away to someone else. Producing this song myself is the only thing that made sense in context with the intention of MARY. as a project. She is an entirely self made, independent woman, who does it all and doesn't need a man to confirm that she's doing a good job. This is something I have personally struggled with, so I created the MARY. persona to feel more empowered in my storytelling as an artist, in an industry without a large visible number of female-identifying producers.”

Los Angeles based dream pop trio Tashaki Miyaki have just released a single and video of the title song from their forthcoming second album, Castaway, which will be released on April 23 via Metropolis Records. Singer, drummer and producer Paige Stark states that the song “is about the challenges of romantic love and how we are all bad at it in one way or another. The idea of a castaway in all this is that no one understands the relationship except the people in it, so you really are stuck on an island alone together there. Maybe you make it back to the mainland, or maybe you stay on the island.” Stark also shot the Sofia Coppola-inspired video on film, adding: "I wanted to tap into all the feelings that can come up in love relationships: anger, sadness, loneliness, vulnerability, stillness, joy, romance, longing. The actress in it has a beautifully expressive face and I've known her for a long time. I knew we would be able to create those moments together. I wanted it to feel like the camera was her lover, capturing her in various private moments, moods and feelings.”

With her Vanilla Shell EP celebrating its one-year anniversary last month, Danish-Chilean composer Molina is back with another abbreviated record in the form of the new single 'Cold,' featuring vocalist Jonas Bjerre, arriving with a pair of B-sides. The brief collection of songs continues her simultaneous journey inward toward the roots of Chilean music and outward into her own unique vision of the future. The project lands with a video for the A-side, which dreams up bizarre fantasy iconography in the tradition of Grimes and Björk to complement her subdued take on these artists’ out-there recordings. Blending ambiguous electronic sounds with the familiar drone of cello and Bjerre’s backing vocals, the track’s distinct persona may have more in common with the experimental soundscapes of artists like Jenny Hval or Julia Holter. [via Flood]

Maisie Peters has debuted her brand new single, ‘John Hughes Movie’. Described as the first single from her soon to be announced debut album, it’s a song about unrequited love, inspired by the legendary film producer and his classic coming-of-age teen comedies like The Breakfast Club and Sixteen Candles. The track comes alongside a video co-written by Maisie and director Louis Bhose (Loyle Carner, Arlo Parks, Lewis Capaldi). Maisie explains: “I wrote ‘John Hughes Movie’ when I was 17 about a house party that I had gone to. It’s a really honest depiction of being a hopeless, melodramatic teenager, being awkward and drunk and getting your heart broken by people you don’t even remember anymore. John Hughes films encapsulate that foolish romantic energy of high school and everything that I, a small town English wannabe Molly Ringwald wanted to be, but was not.” [via Dork]

Chloe x Halle have shared the music video for their song 'Ungodly Hour.' The video was debuted on Wedneday night's episode of The Tonight Show Starring Jimmy Fallon and shows the Bailey sisters going underwater for a sci-fi-style visual filled with choreography and elaborate adventures at the bottom of the ocean. Watch the Alfred Marroquín-directed video above. [via The FADER]

South London's Josie Man has returned with sentimental new single 'Cuts & Bruise', marking her first release of 2021. 'Cuts & Bruises' follows October 2020's 'Grow' single, and is accompanied by a Andrea Mae-directed video that shows couples enjoying tender moments, including Josie Man and her boyfriend. [via Line Of Best Fit]

Jessie Ware has shared a new short film for her song 'Remember Where You Are'. Her album What's Your Pleasure? arrived last year, a disco-fuelled missile that presented some much-needed good vibes amid lockdown. The songwriter returns to the record for her song 'Remember Where You Are', a soulful and uplifting slice of UK songwriting. There's now a full video for the song and it's steered by BAFTA winning director Dominic Savage. Starring British actress Gemma Arterton, it opens on Valentine's Day and finds the star wandering through deserted London streets. A glimpse of hope and renewal, it taps into the growing feeling that this time, lockdown might be coming to a permanent end. "It was a real pleasure to collaborate with Jessie and Gemma on this short film that is inspired by Jessie Ware’s beautiful music. It was also inspired by the real feeling that was felt when we filmed in the deserted streets of eerily strange lockdown London on a Saturday night/Sunday morning,” Dominic said. “The feelings and emotions in the film are a true reflection of what that felt like, and what this time invokes. Sadness, nostalgia, pain and defiance. But when we climbed Primrose Hill and the sun started to rise above the city, there was real hope and joy for a future that will surely be ours. Listening to Jessie’s music. There is no doubt of that." Jessie adds... "This song has always meant a lot to me and I was determined for other people to hear it and for it to be single. I am so touched by how many people have embraced this song, particularly when it's one of your favourite actresses and an acclaimed film director. Working with Gemma, Dominic and their team has been an absolute joy. To have them realise my song with a beautiful ode to London and the longing for human touch and interaction couldn't be more of a compliment. It's a truly cherished piece of work." [via Clash]

Jaguar Jonze has shared her new single and video 'CURLED IN' ahead of the release of her second EP ANTIHERO on April 16, both via Nettwerk Records. 'CURLED IN' presents all her best qualities at its outset. From the track’s rip-roaring, slicing guitar to her perfectly forceful, omnipresent vocals, 'CURLED IN' is a pure cathartic release. "Tear me apart, just tear me apart," she all but demands: "I've never seen wrong be done right." She's fulfilling her simplest needs, and it's freeing. "It's a bit of a twist for me to be a masochist." As a survivor of abuse, these words' unafraid power is all too apparent and an engaging statement to hear expressed.

Following the release of eclectic and impressive debut singles 'ASOS,' 'Right Time,' and 'Papercut,' rising left-of-center pop singer and songwriter Dava returns with a fresh and bold new single 'New Ceilings' available now via Sony Music's Disruptor Records. The moody anti-pop record was co-written by Dava and Mike Adubato (Del Water Gap, Grace VanderWaal) who also produced the track, and is the latest off the Los Angeles-based musician's forthcoming debut EP, Sticky, due out later this year. On the inspiration behind her new single, Dava shares, "This song was written about survival and staying true to yourself. I was having a hard time financially after moving to LA and my phone was shut off while on my way to this session. I was upset with myself for prioritizing music when I really needed the money from driving Uber to stay afloat." She continues, "The day I wrote 'New Ceilings' I was angry and I wanted a song that felt empowering and validated all the work I had put in up to that point. I ended up choosing different songs for my project but when I revisited this one year later, I felt it needed to be heard because of how authentically it embodies my struggle."

London-based Fifi Rong, a multi-talented avant-pop songstress, has shared the video for her stunning single, ‘Another Me’. Directed by Rok Pat, the video for ‘Another Me’ is stylistically simplistic, as Fifi Rong uses her own body as a medium of art, painting herself and inviting the simple imagery of waterside reeds and plants. A tranquil mysticism embraces the single as Fifi Rong acts as a gentle siren, luring the unsuspecting in yet known the inevitable outcome of the relationship. Speaking of the concept behind the single and video, Fifi Rong tells us: “In any doomed romance, timing is always mysteriously wrong. This is my first full CGI music video and it visually portrays the elusive nature of the character surrounding the key message: 'you won't find another me'. The undertone of the song displays a sense of pride and confidence in the character’s melancholy. Dressed in nothing but petals, I wanted my character to symbolise purity, nature, truthfulness, vulnerability and the divine feminine form. Acting as a rotating statue, I wanted to mark the passing of time and seasons as if a unique and lonely piece of art on display.”

[alrightbookreviews]

Shadow and Bone

by Leigh Bardugo

book: 7/10

show: 9/10

Alright so i’m assuming most of y’all have heard of this book after the Netflix series came out like a week ago and are like “damn i shoulda read the book” or maybe not. but if not then idk why ur even on my blog but whatever. i read this book like a month or two ago before i even knew about the show so it was a strange coincidence for me but i was excited for the show bc the book was pretty decent. so i sat down to watch the show w pretty low expectations bc the movies are never better than the books (duh) but i ended up liking the show WAY more than the book and here’s why.

So basically, the plot of the book is this chick named alina who draws maps i guess has this friend named mal (who she grew up at an orphanage with) and she has been high key in love w him basically her whole life and he is so fucking clueless so he doesn’t pick up on it at all. but they get sent on a boat across this big black cloud thing called the “shadow fold” w spooky monsters in it. so you’re probably thinking “oh okay since they took a boat, the shadow fold must be over water” wrong. it’s over some crusty ass sand and instead of getting something with wheels they drag this big ass boat across dry land which makes 0 sense to me but okay. also i should probably mention that there are people w like magic powers or some shit but i’ll get to that later. anyways, so alina and her bestie end up on this boat goin across the big spooky cloud with some other rando people. another design flaw of the boat that really bothers me is the fact that there are EVIL FLYING MOSTERS up in this dark ass cloud and instead of like putting everyone below deck or whatever, they jus have everyone vibing out in the open for the monsters to snatch. so of course, the monsters start snatching bitches. and mal gets snatched and alina is like omg no and then she passes the fuck out. very wild stuff. so they make it out of the shadow fold somehow and alina wakes up and these guard dudes are draggin her to the fancy magic people tent. i think now is a good time to explain the magic people so ima do that. so basically there are all these people with magic powers called “grisha” which is kinda confusing bc it sounds a lot like geisha but whatever. there’s like a bunch of different powers and they all have wacky names that i can never remember so i just call them the wind people, the water people, the fire people, the heart people, the healing people, and the builder people. the names are pretty self explanatory. but then there’s this one guy called “the darkling” which is the dumbest name to ever exist omfg i laughed over it for a WHILE. so y’all can probably guess what his power is based off of his stupid name. he makes the shadows move oooo spooky. and he can also use the shadows to chop people in half. i guess. so back to the story, they drag alina to the darklings tent and he’s like “bitch u got powers” and she’s like “nah fam” and he’s like “yeah watch” and he cuts her w a knife and she lights up. like she turns into a human lightbulb. and she’s like “damn okay so like that’s what happened on the boat when i passed the fuck out” so they take her to the palace bc i guess she’s the first person to ever have that power and it’s important bc it can get rid of the shadow fold or whateva. and basically the rest of the book is her trying to figure out her powers and the darkling trying to find this deer whose antlers will amplify her power and alina complaining about living in a castle blah blah blah.

so here’s why the show is better than the book:

her friend/guy she’s in love with is so fucking toxic in the book. he’s such a bitch to her and she’s just like lol okay ily and i’m like wtf? why do u like this piece of shit? he’s just rude man. and in the show i actually liked him. he tried his hardest to get to the palace and find her after they took her away unlike in the book when he didn’t do shit and when she finally saw him again he was mad at her for some reason idk i was like bro u gotta chill. so i’m glad he was chill in the show.

the darkling’s name in the show is “general kirigan” which is also pretty lame but SO much better than the darkling. no debate.

leigh bardugo has 7 books total taking place in this little universe (the shadow and bone trilogy, six of crows duology, and the king of scars duology) and they threw some of the characters from six of crows into the show for some reason. i was a little skeptical of how that was gonna go before the show came out bc shadow and bone and six of crows take place at different times and also i haven’t read six of crows yet but omg. i loved them. it’s this little squad of this ninja bitch, some guy w a cane who is hot af and (my favorite) this gay dude who mostly just talks about a goat. they were baddies and i was so happy they made a lil plot for them and put them in the show.

and those are really the only reasons. idk. i’d recommend both the book and the show but definitely the show a lil bit more.

now it’s time to talk some shit about everyone. (SPOILERS!!)

jesper: okay something important i need to say that my mom mentioned as we were watching the show: wouldn’t it have stank like shit when jesper fucked that one guy in the stables??? like dude no. literally do it ANYWHERE but there pls and thank u.

kaz: jesus fuck make a move you goddamn pussy holy shit

inej: okay first of all the actress who played her was GORGEOUS and she’s such a badass. kaz and jesper can’t do SHIT compared to her.

alina: she lowkey annoyed me a lil bit in the show. she ended up being the one who was a dick to mal instead of the other way around and it kinda made me sad but whatever. also the antlers in her skin omfg i gagged every time i saw it it was fucking disgusting.

mal: dear book mal, go fuck yourself. dear netflix mal, ily boo <3

the darkling/general kirigan: they chose an old ass dude to play him in the show. like in the book even though he’s like hundreds of years old, he’s only supposed to look like 20 and the homeboy who played him in the show is 39. mmm no. poor little 25 year old jessie who had to make out with this grandpa motherfucker.

genya: wtf was that tall ass collar she was wearing?? made the bitch look like she had no neck.

david: 🧍‍♂️. also you traitor motherfucker.

baghra: we needed more of her. i love that crusty bitch. kinda upset that she attacked mal in the show but whatever he was fine i guess? idk i liked her a lot more in the book lol.

nina: idk who tf this bitch was bc she aint in the book. her lil plot was boring tbh.

milo: queen milo i live for you.

and that’s it. thank u for reading.