#as if she has anything to say about 'being exhausted'

[theladybrownstarot]

Pick-A-Card : What does your feminine side wants you to know ? (Collab : @tarot-by-e11e♡)

☪︎ Here's my masterlist for more !

☪︎ Make sure you like/reblogg/follow/Comment for more pacs like these !

Pile 1. Pile 2.

Pile 3. Pile 4.

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Pile 1 .

Namaste pile 1 ! Let's get with your reading :-

cards pulled out : 10 of wands rx, 8 of swords rx and The sun .

☪︎ You people are literally stressed out and burdened with a lot of things that can be felt through the reading . Are you people having teeth pain out of stress because i can feel that . Your feminine side says that stop for second leave others and prioritize your mental and physical well-being ! take proper sleep do not over-do anything because there's always a limit . Your feminine side says even though you got lot of potential inside you but still take how much you can do.

☪︎ Next , some of you might be going through some legal problems and if not then you are full of unecessary thoughts which needs to filtered out seriously otherwise you are going to face lot of problems. Doing work out fear , insecurity or any other negative emotion is not gonna help you out . You might be facing some kind of injustice and i really feel that your feminine side says that you are not taking any proper action against it this tells me the need to have proper boundary for yourselves .

☪︎ last but not the least , your feminine side says that she is going to beat the shit out of you if you cannot enjoy and let yourselves get drowned in that sadistic pool of thoughts and actions ! let yourself be happy and really bring out that child inside you that craves to go out and do whatever it wants , be positive your world is not going to end .

˚☽◯☾˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚☽◯☾˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚☽◯☾˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚☽◯☾˚₊‧⁺˖

Pile 2 . [@tarot-by-e11e]

Thank you so much for being here ♡ @e11e27

Cards pulled out : 2 of Cups, 8 of Coins reversed, Temperance, 7 of Swords, 3 of Swords, Queen of Wands, Hierophant, Knight of Wands, Judgement.

☪︎ The time in my clock is 1:01 pm as I sat down by my window enjoying the cool summer rain, so that I can interpret for my dear pile 2.

☪︎ Angel number 101 shares an undeniable news about growth, progress and new beginnings. There is this welcoming message of growth and collaboration with your feminine side. This makes me feel like my pile 2 are either: finally taking baby steps in wanting to lean more into your feminine side OR you've reached a certain point of burn out, that you feel called to want to learn how to graciously accept the help from the universe and your guides.

☪︎ With the 2 of Cups, there's this gentle whisper of unity and mutual respect for your feminine side. It would seem that pile 2 might have "girl-bossed" a little too hard this past few weeks/months, so much so that you’d rather push your body to the point of exhaustion than actively allowing yourself to rest and recuperate. There's also this air of hypervigilance caused by the lack of genuine support and healthy role models growing up.

☪︎ More like, Pile 2 was surrounded by who they promised they will never want to become. With the first card alone, the message your feminine side wants to tell you: Let yourself be open to others again.

☪�� It seems that Pile 2 had experience betrayals and has been in survival mode to God knows how long. To be so disregulated that you feel guilty for even purchasing skincare, even if you are not financially struggling anymore, is quite a heartbreaking situation to be in. Your feminine side is telling you: "Self - Care = Self - Love", so pile 2 can be the type of person that struggles to be okay with putting themselves first. It seems this pile is for my people pleasers.

☪︎ The songs, "You don't know" by Katelyn Tarver popped in my head. Particularly the lines, "I know you got the best intentions, just trying to find the right words to say..."; this line makes me feel like a line you want to tell anyone who wants to help you out. In this case, this is a song you dedicate to your own feminine side. But here's the thing sweetie, your feminine side DOES KNOW WHAT IT'S LIKE TO BE YOU...

☪︎ Your feminine side, as much as they want to help you out, they can't seem to outscream your insecurities and troubles away. Your feminine side is soft spoken yet firm with their love for you. Your feminine side wants you to know they'll always be here for you, they're just waiting for you to sit quietly in your feelings and take the time to hear them out. They're always ready to help, they're just waiting on your signal. And you choosing this pile, your feminine side is welcoming you with open arms, with them, you are allowed to safely get vulnerable, without judgement or shame. They're always ready to welcome you back into helping you feel like *you* again.

☪︎ So first thing your feminine side wants to tell you is: "Welcome back home".

☪︎ With 8 of Coins reversed, your feminine side wants you to forgive yourself for only taking the time to only want to hear what they have to tell you. It's okay, you're safe with your feminine side. Remember, no judgement or shame will ever come from them.

☪︎ With how much you have on your plate in your life right now Pile 2, having debts and bills to pay, responsibilities piling up higher than your bookshelves, alot of people depend on you for everything, even on things that they can easily deal with themselves, yet they actively decided to pass their burdens to you. Seeing as your attention, focus and efforts are needed elsewhere, it's okay that you only felt the need to sit down to what they have to tell you.

☪︎ The more I interpret for pile 2, the more I can imagine that this pile is for the chronic workaholic people pleasers, it also has the vibe of the sole provider and/or oldest sibling energy. The heavy feeling of burn out is so prevalent in this pile, so much so that you tend to be the type to drown in work while your friends and family barely got a chance to spend time with you.

☪︎ Just know, they love you and miss you so much. They do appreciate your efforts to keeping a roof over everyone's heads and food on the table, but you tend to forget that you deserve to be taken cared for too. This is a strong message from your feminine side, let others show how much they can take care of you. Let others into your life. Learn to let love in again in your life again. Betrayals in any shape or form had closed the gates of your heart, to the point of self-imposed isolation, guised as working hard to provide. It seems that pile 2 overworks to hide their pain. It's like, "Working more means less time to feel".

☪︎ With Temperance, your feminine side suggests you start reassessing your current lifestyle and curate your daily routines to cultivate a "healthy work life balance". I can already feel some of pile 2 are rolling their eyes back so far inside that they can see their brain cells barely surviving from fatigue. And yes, I'm also lovingly call out those of you who leaned back as you begrudgingly "ugggggggggghhhh..." into surrender.

☪︎ Definitely my burn out overwhelmed workaholic people pleasers pile. You're so conditioned to always Go, go, go to the next task before letting yourself catch your breath. My dear, unless your line of work is in ER surgery, you allowing yourself to rest won't lead to someone's demise. So if you work in the medical field pile 2, your feminine side is way more stricter with you about work-life balance. I heard the words "It's non negotiable at this point". So pile 2, please, for the love of rainbows, cookies and butterflies, please curate your daily routines into a healthy work-life balance.

☪︎ With 7 of swords, your feminine side is asking you to keep quiet about your plans for self-love and self-care. This was a rather odd card to show up but with the multiple instances of me mentioning betrayal with the previous cards, it seems pile 2 is surrounded by people who benefit from your lack of boundaries. That's actually the kind of betrayals you've consistently dealt with. People taking your kindness and generosity for weakness, as if it's an invitation to openly abuse your giving heart. Oh no dear pile 2, I'm so sorry you are surrounded by people who can't stand you stepping into your power.

☪︎ This message feels rather severe but your feminine side is asking you to keep your happiness and achievements under wraps and offline. Don't post anything celebratory, it seems that evil eye and ill wishes from jealous and insecure coworkers and/or family members tends be your usual cause of bad luck. So with that, cleanse and establish healthy boundaries with people who have proven that they have no intention of wishing you well. Keep those kind of people out of your life. Take that message in any shape or form that you feel called to interpret it as.

☪︎ Your feminine side urges you to let yourself be nurtured again. You don't have to always be assertive; you don't have to also be the one that leads. You are allowed and you deserve to receive. So let yourself be on the receiving of your friends and loved one's care.

˖⁺‧₊˚☽◯☾˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚☽◯☾˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚☽◯☾˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚☽◯☾˚₊‧⁺˖

Pile 3 . [@tarot-by-e11e]

Thank you so much for being here @e11e27 ♡

Cards pulled out : High Priestess, Ace of Swords, 4 of Wands, King of Cups, 4 of Swords, Strength, 6 of Coins

𐙚 My dearest pile 3, right off the bat, this feels like the “Stepping into your power” pile.

☪︎ Starting with the High Priestess, this talks about listening to your intuition, leaning more onto your spiritual practices, and, in this specific question, leaning more into listening to your feminine side. I feel called to share a little way to discern the difference between intuition, anxiety, and wishful thinking.

☪︎ Wishful thinking feels self-gratifying and short-lived, and leans more toward satisfying an urge/itch in the moment; like having a quick dopamine fix from doomscrolling. It’s the easiest to fulfill and do, out of all the three.

☪︎ Anxiety is fear-based and meant to keep you safe; there are certain times when safety, when taken too far, leaves you stuck and resentful; If any negative thought starts with “What if..”, this is an example of an intrusive thought that’s rooted in anxiety. It feels comfortable because it’s familiar, but it leaves you regretful and resentful for not pursuing something else.

☪︎ Intuition is sometimes like an invisible cord that’s pulling you into doing something you subconsciously feel is the right thing to do. There are times when intuition makes you feel uncomfortable, if you are in a period of stagnancy; but there are also times when intuition feels right, when even without logical and substantial evidence to back up the decision, you feel in your gut that it “just makes sense.”

☪︎ With Ace of Swords, your feminine side shares that you will receive some sort of clarity/breakthrough once you learn to listen to your intuition more; it takes practice to differentiate fear and inner knowing, so be kinder to yourself as you go about this journey. The more you listen to your gut, the easier it is for you to have new ideas and have a sense of focus towards the vision of what you want your life to unfold as.

☪︎ 4 of Wands is about your community, stability, and a sense of belongingness. With this, your feminine side suggests you put yourself out into the world to call in your soul tribe/chosen family. More like, the more you become the person you know you are meant to be, the easier it will be to naturally draw in your like-minded community.

☪︎ With the King of Cups, your feminine side urges you to embrace a compassionate approach in life, not just towards others, but particularly, towards yourself. Try to strike the balance between duty and nurture. Try to find a way to hone the skill of living a balanced life.

☪︎ Pile 3, your feminine side urges you to let yourself rest in the 4 of Swords; taking a nap while overthinking is not resting; sleeping and feeling guilty about not being productive hours before is not resting. (Damn, the call-out is real in this pile). Your feminine side asks you to truly let yourself rest and recuperate, unapologetically. How about this: whether you rest later, or rest now, your responsibilities remain; so if you rest properly now, you’ll have more energy to do your tasks wholeheartedly, and the chances of you producing results beyond your expectations is a high possibility. But if you push yourself too hard now just to have something you can “produce for the sake of having an output”, 9/10 the result is half-assed, and this will lead you to have more reason to stress and be filled with regrets. So the choice is up to you.

☪︎ The Strength card feels like your feminine side is telling you to embrace your inner power. If you’re the type that’s made to feel small, now’s the time for you to step out of your comfort zone, and try to build your confidence. You don’t have to make a huge. Life-altering change overnight. This feels more like building that steady foundation of your self-confidence. Learn how to reassure yourself that no matter what, you’ll get through everything because you are sure about your decisions and dreams in life.

‧₊˚☽◯☾˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚☽◯☾˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚☽◯☾˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚☽◯☾˚₊‧⁺˖

Pile 4 .

Namaste pile 1 ! Let's get with your reading :-

cards pulled out : The world rx , The hermit , Knight of pentacles , Ace of penatcles rx and the emperor rx .

☪︎ People your feminine side encourages you to move forward and no to give up because you are almost the half way to what you need , i feel you are going through major setbacks and still you people trying to do everything you got to make yourself come out of the situation you are in currently and you will actually .

☪︎ Your feminine side encourages you to go for deep self reflection and take time-off from people and other things to sort out what needs to be , she says that you already have got all the wisdom and solution you are seeking that was because of the constant experience , i feel there's a mistake or an action that your committing again and needs to be stopped . She encourages you to meditate and take rest and don't seek help outside because you got it all !

☪︎ Some of you might be having some male relation issue or an issue with authority which will resolve quickly but you being encourages to take your stand .

☪︎ Your feminine encourages or warns you to be aware of any future scam or money investment you are doing , you need to change your long term financial plan or need to revaluate for better , I feel some of you might not get the desired job as of now and it could be that you facing job related issue which resolve quickly withing 2-3 months or before just do not stop .

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©️ @theladybrownstarot 2023 all rights reserved. Any stealing Or copying of work will be a punishable offence.

[marie-swriting]

To Be With You - Kate Bishop

Marvel Masterlist

Summary : After having a nightmare about you dying, Kate is scared for your safety but she doesn't know how to talk to you about her fears.

Warnings : character's death in a dream, anxiety, mention of Natasha's death, hurt/comfort, angst, happy ending, maybe some grammatical mistakes as English is not my first language, tell me if you see some or if I missed any warning.

Word count : 2.6k

French version (will be published 16/06/2024 at 9pm)

Song inspiration : Talk Too Much by Reneé Rapp

Fear can be read on Kate’s face, her wide opened eyes are set on you. Her bow is armed with an arrow, she doesn’t know whether she should shoot or find an other solution to save you. On the edge of the building roof, Wilson Fisk has his arm around your neck while his other hand holds a gun against your temple. Your body is shaking and your eyes are full of tears whilst you gaze at Kate, completely terrified. 

“You should listen to me, Kate, and give me what I want or you can say goodbye to your girlfriend.” Fisk threatens with a harsh voice. “If you really loved her, you would’ve already saved her.”

“I’m not giving you anything.”

“Are you sure about that?” He replies before shooting you in the legs to prove he’s being serious.

“Let her go!” Kate yells following you cry of pain.

“You know what you have to do to save her life.”

“Fine! I’m gonna give it to you, just let her go.”

“Kate, no!” you scream while Fisk tightens his grip on your neck.

Reluctantly, Kate slowly puts down her bow on the ground whilst looking at you as a way to reassure you. She takes her bag off her back and throws it at Fisk. A machiavellian smirk on his face, Fisk loosens his grip however he still doesn’t let you go. You can finally breathe a bit more easily when Fisk suddenly throws you on the side and grabs the bag. You scream as you feel yourself falling off the roof. Your body goes on the other side of the edge when a pair of hands grabs yours. Looking up, you see Kate holding you with all her might. 

“It’s gonna be okay, I’ve got you! I’m gonna pull you up. Hold on.” she comforts you as she tries to haul you up and Fisk runs away from the scene.

“Kate, I don’t have any more strength.”

A tear rolls down your face the second you talk. You’re physically exhausted. Fisk kidnapped you for a whole day to set a trap on Kate and he didn’t go easy on you - he’s known for his cruelty and you’ve seen it first hand. However, you do everything to help Kate to haul you up, in vain.

“I’m gonna find a solution. I’m gonna pull you up. I’m gonna do it.” Kate repeats to reassure you but also herself.

In addition to your fear, acceptance also takes over your body. You know she won’t be able to do it. Kate might be strong yet, you feel your hands slowly slipping from hers so, you tenderly look at her with a comforting smile.

“It’s gonna be okay, Kate. I love you.”

Kate’s panic stops as soon as she hears your sentence, it’s the first time you say ‘I love you’. You’ve only been together for three months and until now, you didn’t dare to say those three words.

“I told you I’m gonna pull you up! Don’t say this as if you-”

“Kate, it’s okay.” you say softly.

“No, stop it. I-”

Kate doesn’t have the time to finish her sentence that your hands slip from hers and you fall down the building. Kate yells your name at the top of her lungs, your fall being engraved in her memory. The thud of your body colliding with the ground resonates and Kate can’t look away from you.

Kate takes a deep breath as she sits on her bed, panting. A hand on her chest, she tries to make sense of her nightmare. Kate brutally waking up makes you open your eyes so you turn around and see her, all shaken up. You sit down and put your hand on her shoulder, at your touch, she abruptly faces you, fear being replaced with relief in her eyes. You barely have the time to notice a tear streaming down her face when Kate throws herself in your arms.

“Kate, what’s wrong?” you question, worried.

“Everything is okay, you’re here.”

“You don’t seem okay.” 

“I’m fine, don’t worry. I just had a dream.” she lies, breaking the hug and faking a smile.

“Wanna talk about it? You seem pretty upset because of it.”

“No need. It was nothing. It was just a stupid dream, it didn’t mean anything. I’m fine.” Kate quickly says before standing up from the bed. “I have to go, I have training soon. You can stay here, if you want to or you can do something else, I’ll probably be home late. Be careful and call me if there’s anything weird.”

Kate finishes her rambling by pecking your lips and then, she runs away from her bedroom as if it was on fire. You stare at where she left, completely confused. Despite what she said, you can see right through her and you know this dream upset her. You tell yourself you should talk to her about it once she’s calmed down.

The following days, Kate’s nightmare keeps haunting her mind and she still hasn’t talked about it. Her nightmare made her question herself, more specifically your relationship. Though she’s never said it out loud, she loves you and she can’t lose you. Yet, since she became a vigilante after meeting Clint Barton, she has to take into account the dangers of this new life. Clint mentioned Natasha a few times and even if her death wasn’t like the one in her nightmare, the fact is, the Avengers are in constant danger and by extent their loved ones, too. Besides, since Kate’s mom went to jail, she is even more scared to lose the people she loves. 

Now that Kate has realised what it truly means being in a relationship with her, she’s not sure you’ve realised it, too. Kate is afraid to be the cause of your death due to her lifestyle so she wants to push you away, but she also wants to keep you close to her, though she knows it might be selfish on her part. She should talk to you about it, on the other hand if she does, she’ll just fall down a rabbit hole by saying too much and probably breaking up with you, her fears growing everyday so she prefers to stay silent. 

Obviously you’ve noticed she acts differently. You’ve tried to put her at ease several times without being too direct, fearing you’ll get her back up, however she always avoids the subject. 

She doesn't mention her nightmare even a week after and stays lost in her own thoughts. It kills you to see her distance yourself from you like this. You try to talk to her as much as you can but it's like talking to a brick wall and yet you keep making the conversation even if Kate doesn't seem to pay attention. One day, whilst you’re both walking in the street, you tell Kate about your last exam. As usual the second you’re talking with someone, you don’t pay attention to where you’re going, focusing on your interlocutor. As you’re talking about how you feel about your exam, you just feel Kate violently grabbing you and making you take a step back then you see a blue car driving fast and honking.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Kate asks, worried, searching for a potential wound.

“Thanks to you, I’m fine.”

“You really need to look in front of you when you’re talking, especially while walking in the streets!” she retorts, annoyed, “If I hadn’t been there, you could have had an accident! They were driving super fast, they could have hit you. Do you have any idea how reckless you are? You scared me! What if I hadn’t seen this car, you would have died in front of me!”

“But you saw it just in time and you pulled me back before it could hit me. I’m fine, Kate, we were more scared than hurt.” you calmly affirm, hoping to ease the tension.

“Because you were lucky! You won’t always be, something can happen to you at any given moment.”

Kate’s breath gets more jerky and you understand this goes way deeper than a bad driver. You force Kate to look at you before saying with a reassuring tone:

“Kate, breathe. I’m fine, you’re fine, we’re both fine.”

“I got so scared.”

“I know. Come on, let’s go to my place.” you tell her as you start to drag her in the opposite direction.

“But you wanted to buy the new book you’ve been waiting for months.” Kate protests, confused.

“I’ll buy it another day. We should get home, far away from the cars.” you state with a small smile though Kate isn’t in the mood to laugh. “Too soon?”

“Yes, barely two minutes after your almost accident is too soon.”

“Sorry. Come on.” you say, taking Kate’s hand in yours.

You turn around and start walking to your place whilst you stroke Kate’s hand with your thumb as a way to comfort her. Kate’s reaction confirms you have to make her talk, even if you have to force her. Something is wrong and she’s anxious, more specifically about you and you don’t know why.

Once you get in your small apartment, you let her sit on your couch whilst you make two hot chocolates - no matter the season, Kate loves to drink them. You hope the hot drinks will put her at ease so she’ll talk more easily. As soon as the beverages are ready, you join her on the couch. You let her take a few sips before speaking.

“Kate, we need to talk.”

“I don’t wanna talk about it.” she states, avoiding your gaze.

“You’re clearly anxious about something, you can’t just stay in your fear all alone. Talk to me.”

“I…,” Kate starts with hesitation, “I wonder if you really know what you got yourself into when you decided to date me and if it’s not the case then, I wonder if you’ll still want to be with me when you’ll realise it.”

“Why are you saying that?”

“You died.” she bluntly states.

“Kate, the car didn’t run me over.”

“In my dream.”

“The one you had last week? Why didn’t you tell me?” you question, starting to understand the situation better.

“You died and it was my fault.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

“It is,” Kate insists with teary eyes, “Fisk found me again and he wanted my bag - I have no idea what was so precious in this bag but he wouldn’t let it go and to force me to give it to him, he had kidnaped you. He even shot you in the leg and once I finally gave him the bag, he threw you off the building roof - because, yeah we were on a building roof - and I tried to pull you back but I didn’t have enough strength and… and you fell.” she tells you, her voice breaking at her last sentence. “You died and it was my fault. If I had listened to Fisk earlier, if I had had more strength-”

“Kate, it was only a dream.” you interrupt her, taking her hand in yours.

“It didn’t feel like a dream, it felt so real and it made me think.” Kate retorts, putting her cup on the living room table. “At any moment, it could be real. Now that I’ve worked with Hawkeye and with my mom who worked for Fisk, I could be a target and I don’t want you to get hurt because of me. I care about you too much to lose you, especially if it’s my fault. And even if I’m no Spider-man or Captain America, with time, I could have more enemies way more ruthless than Fisk and Fisk is awful enough. This nightmare was like a wake-up call, I can’t be with you because it means you’re in danger and you're already putting yourself in danger when you’re talking in the street without looking where you’re going. Who walks without watching where they’re going seriously?” She rambles before going back to her main argument. “The fact is, by dating me, you put yourself in danger and it’s something you should keep in mind,” Kate adds before taking a deep breath. “Okay, having said all that, do you still wanna be with me? ‘Cause, like, I wanna be with you, maybe even forever, holy shit, maybe not forever. I mean, I’m not saying ‘not forever,’” Kate nervously adds without giving you the time to answer, “I actually have no idea what I’m saying. Are you mad at me because I’m pushing you to break up with me because of a stupid nightmare? You’re mad at me, I’m sure of it and it’s cool if you are, I don’t care. It’s just that with this dream, I can’t stop wondering if it’s a sign, like a premonitory one, you know and if it’s true, I’d forever resent myself for not protecting you by giving you an exit when there was still a chance. And, oh my God, I think I talk too much.” Kate tells herself, “I’m talking too much, aren’t I? I should let you talk. Like you said, we should talk and… Ah! Just shut the fuck up!” she screams, frustrated.

“I haven’t said anything!” you reply, putting your hands up to prove your innocence.

“Not you, sorry, I meant me.” Kate corrects with a guilty face. “I meant I should shut up and let you talk.”

“Can I talk?” you ask after letting her breath for a second. Once she nods, you start speaking again. “Kate, I get your nightmare scared you, but it doesn’t mean it’ll happen. Besides, I knew what I was getting myself into by dating you - I mean, you bragged about working with Hawkeye on our first date so I knew for the whole vigilante thing, potential enemies and everything and I still accepted to go on a second date with you. I’m aware of all of this and despite it, I don’t want us to break up, particularly because of a nightmare.” you add with a soft yet firm voice. “And also, I don’t want to leave you alone. Being a vigilante is already complicated enough, you can’t isolate yourself. You have to talk to me when you’re not okay, especially if you get yourself worried sick. I want to be with you. I might not know how to do archery or fight but I can be here for you. I want to be here for you. You can try and give me every exit you want but I’ll still want to be with you. I love you, Kate.” you confess, looking her straight in the eyes.

“You love me?” Kate questions, stunned.

“Of course.”

“Wow, I didn’t think we were at the stage of our relationship and I didn’t think you’d say it during this kind of conversation. I mean, technically, in my dream, you said it before dying though we should probably forget about that dream. Anyway, I thought you’d say it when we’d be doing something much more romantic. God, I’m rambling again, aren’t I?”

You lightly laugh before putting your hands on both sides of her face and kissing Kate. As she feels your lips on hers, Kate’s fears finally calm down. The kiss only lasts for a few seconds so it can allow Kate to focus on something else, yet it doesn’t mean it’s not full of love and tenderness. Once you break the kiss, Kate gives you a smile you find cute.

“I love you, too.” she says, stroking your right hand on her cheek.

“I love you and I want to be with you, Kate Bishop, no matter what you can say to dissuade me.”

At your words, Kate’s smile gets bigger, grateful she’s found someone so comprehensive and kind as you are. She couldn’t have dreamed of a sweeter girlfriend in this brutal world.

Marvel Masterlist

[thiccpersonality]

What Is A Father?

What is a father? 

This is a question Bruce has been pondering on for awhile now, especially now that Father's Day is coming so quickly. A part of him still feels the stinging pain of loss from all those years ago, yet also Bruce finds his heart warming at the memories he shared with Thomas Wayne...somewhere in his mind echoes the deep rumbling laugh of the doctor. It has been so long since Bruce has felt those strong arms wrap around him, his body trying desperately to recall the smell of medicine and antiseptics that always seemed to cover his father.

Bruce sighs loudly while turning to lie on his back, his nostrils flaring at the sudden scent of Thomas Wayne suddenly in the room. Icy blue eyes shut tightly at the tears that start to form in his eyes, it's been so long...yet that smell is undeniably his late father. There is the smell of the medicine Bruce hated so much mixed with antiseptics and yet something...warm, like a campfire, something very earthy and natural that was so undeniably Thomas.

Hm? With these thoughts, Bruce thinks he'll never get to sleep now.

The man grunts softly as he sits up against the headboard, his back cushioned by his pillows as he looks to the ceiling in thought. Because what is a father to Bruce? A father to him is many things, one of them being something to lose and mourn, but Bruce knows that is his negative side talking...everything in life is something you can lose, so he knows that people aren't too different.

As Bruce is thinking about the question, his eyes fall closed, his body still upright on the bed as an unconscious smile tugs at his lips from the memories playing in his mind...

-A Father Is: Structure-

Bruce was only three, small and innocent to the ways of the world and all the mess it can cause. Oblivious to the lies and gossip of the media and what they say about his family, more specifically, his father and mother. Though he is oblivious and naive, Bruce isn't a stupid kid, he knows that something is bothering his mother by the way her hands reach up to play with the pearls that adorn her neck, can see it in the slight furrow of her brows and the way she keeps tapping her armrest with her manicured nails.

And when his mama is distressed, Bruce is distressed as well. 

The toddler pouts at the hushed conversation that's going on across the room, his toys long forgotten as he watches his mother carefully as she whispers something aggressively to Thomas. Bruce's head tilts in confusion at the calm smile placed on his papa's face, is nothing actually wrong? Why is his mom so upset and his dad so relaxed?

Bruce scoots forward, being able to do so easily as his parents are distracted with their conversation, leaning in closer when he gets close enough to hear what they are whispering to each other about.

"How can you be so calm about this, Thomas!? They have been doing anything to try and ruin your name and reputation, and quite frankly, I don't know why you would invite the same people who talk about you behind your back into your home. I'm just-" Bruce's frown deepens at the anxiousness and exhaustion in Martha's tone-"I'm just so tired of people talking about you and I. I'm afraid that they will one day pull our baby into all this mess and Lord knows I don't want that for him, Tommy."

Bruce doesn't know exactly what his parents mean...but he feels himself getting upset at whoever is hurting his mom and dad. His daddy is good and kind and helps people, does no one else see it?

A gentle hum from Thomas catches Bruce's attention, the small tot freezing in place when he looks up and sees that warm gaze directed towards him. Thomas Wayne smiles gently at his son and holds his hands out for the child, "It seems we have a little guest, Martha. Looks like it's bothering Bruce as well." Martha gnaws at her lip in worry at seeing her little Bruce toddle his way to Thomas, the boy's face looking uncharacteristically worried for him and someone his age. "I'm sorry, my little Brucie. Mommy didn't mean to worry you-no? What do you mean no?"

Thomas and Martha watch as Bruce shakes his little head, "Not mommy. Bad people lie about daddy and mommy...that's not true. You're good, why can't they see it?"

Martha melts in her chair, her fingers stopping their constant tapping as she turns questioning gaze towards Thomas. "I don't know, Bruce. Why can't they see it?" Thomas sighs fondly at the slight aggravation that's still in his wife's tone, his arm tightening around Bruce while he leans over to hold Martha's hand in his own. "Sometimes people are complicated, this is something we know. I cannot say exactly why they can or cannot see what we see, Martha and Bruce, but one thing I do know is that I am happy where I am with you two and no lie or rumor can change that." Martha softens further at the gentle kiss placed on her hand and the kiss her husband plants on Bruce's cheek.

"I also know that I am in charge of how I choose to act. It can be hard to face lies...but I know the truth and that's all that matters to me, now, why don't we go smile and laugh and enjoy our night?"

Bruce relaxes in his father's hold, amazed at how calm Thomas can be despite everything feeling so scary, holding firmly onto the relaxed smile his dad is giving and doing his best to imitate one of his own.

XXX

Bruce sighs softly at the memory, his lips stretching into an imitation of his father's smile as he remembers how assuredly his father was in a moment where himself and his own mother weren't sure. Bruce always remembers Thomas being firm and unwavering in moments where anyone would shake and tremble, there was always a kindness and an understanding to him that Bruce always wondered about...

-A Father Is: Understanding-

Thomas and a four-year-old Bruce walk down the street hand-in-hand, the doctor has a rare day off and miraculously has not been called in for work at all, and because of such a rare thing, the older Wayne decided it would be a great time to go out into the city to bond with his son. Bruce does his best to keep up with his father as they turn the corner to head to their car, the child grunting as he bumps into Thomas's leg from the man abruptly stopping.

"Daddy?" Bruce questions while looking up to the older man for an answer, huffing and stomping his foot lightly at the lack of an answer from him, what could he be looking at?

Bruce looks to where Thomas is looking, the boy's eyes widening at the child standing in front of their car attempting to pull the tires off. Bruce hides behind his dad, his small hands gripping the man's pants leg tightly in fear as to what will happen next, his shoulders relaxing somewhat at the hand that rests gently on his head comfortingly. "Don't be afraid, son. What do you say we go talk to the young man?" 

Thomas chuckles at the look Bruce is giving him, the man choosing to smile kindly and walk forward quietly, trying not to laugh louder at his son attempting to pull him back from the other boy.

When they get close enough, Thomas places his hand on the kid's shoulder and clears his throat, effectively startling the young teen out of his concentration. "May I ask why you are trying to take my tires, young man?" Bruce hides behind Thomas's leg more when the older boy looks down at him for a moment and scoffs suddenly, "I don't hafta explain shit to you...old man. You wouldn't understand." Bruce feels his brows furrow in irritation at the boy's behavior, feeling indignant on his father's behalf at the tone the boy is taking with him.

Before Bruce can say anything in defense of his dad, Thomas just gently squeezes the teens shoulder again with a hum.

"Maybe I wouldn't or maybe I would. You never know unless you tell me everything over a meal, is that alright with you?" Bruce looks up at his dad in confusion, this person was just trying to steal their stuff and he wants to feed the boy? But he is always told that stealing is bad and you face the consequences of stealing, Bruce knows it to be true as when he attempts to steal snacks, he's scolded, put in timeout or popped on his backside depending on it.

Bruce isn't the only one baffled by the question, the teen looks around before staring back up at Thomas cautiously. "This your idea of a joke? I don't need pity or your sympathy, okay? I'm doing just fine on my own."

Thomas listens to the boy complain before nodding softly, "It isn't a joke. Nothing about this situation is funny...and I don't doubt that you are incapable of taking care of yourself, you seem to have some kind of experience on how to. But, you must be stealing my tires for a reason, yes? There is absolutely no shame in needing or asking for help, no one should be alone and struggling, especially a fine young man such as yourself. Now, how about that offer if you'd indulge this old man?" Bruce watches as something in the teen softens, no doubt there is some sort of caution still put up, but the boy looks more confused and in shock that Thomas is being genuine in his request.

"Uh...sure?"

------

"That's pretty much it. Guess your gonna call the police on me now?" The teenager, now known as Caleb, leans back in his seat while pushing his empty plate away. He looks content with the food, but something in his eyes is tired and lost as he asks the question, Bruce hears him asking: "you gonna toss me away too?" And that makes him sad for Caleb and how he thinks he's unwanted or unlikeable.

Thomas shakes his head, "No. I'm not calling the police on you, obviously you know stealing is wrong as you were trying to do it in secret-" he raises his hand to stop the boy from saying anything-"though I understand now where you were coming from. But, I would prefer if you could actually work and make money for yourself and your little sister instead of resorting to stealing." Caleb crosses his arms defensively and looks out the diner window, "Yeah...well, no one wants to hire a street rat like me. Your kind don't like people like us, guess we are too savage and dirty for the likes of them." Thomas looks troubled at hearing that, his tone kind yet firm as he speaks, "Don't say that. I like you very much, and it isn't any fault of yours that you are in the position you're in, so leave that train of thought behind you."

Caleb turns to look at Thomas and physically squirms at the look the older man is giving him...it has been so long since anyone looked at him with love and concern, usually people are too busy looking at him with contempt, as if he's nothing but trash. "You are old enough to work decent hours for your age. Caleb, would you do me the honor of working at one of my wife's orphanages or homeless shelters? I don't want you to be on these streets anymore...and you can work hard for me in payback for attempting to steal my tires."

Caleb feels as if he's in a dream, "I tried to steal from you...and you want me to work for your wife? Y-You are offering me a job, why? What's in it for you, huh?"

Thomas writes down the address and his number on a napkin and slides it over to the teen, "For one: you would be off of the streets and two: you would have a stable enough life, job and living conditions for yourself and your sister. That is exactly what is in it for me...I know this must seem like a lot, and I know you don't trust me right now, but just think about it. There is a door open to you anytime you want to come to one of those addresses and that number will always pick up when you call." Thomas slides out of the booth with Bruce in tow, smiling at Caleb one last time before leaving the restaurant.

Bruce looks back one more time when they are outside to look at the teen, his lips lifting up into a happy smile at how the boy is aggressively wiping his eyes and hugging onto the napkin like it's a lifeline.

A soft ruffle to his hair causes Bruce to look up at his dad, "You never have to be afraid, Bruce. Sometimes...people behave in scary ways or in a way that makes us mad, but you never know what got them to that point." The four-year-old nods and then tilts his head curiously. "He stole though, papa. You always say that is a no-no." Thomas chuckles and picks Bruce up, kissing the boy's nose: "Yes, and stealing is a bad thing. But, I would rather give Caleb an actual chance to get better when he's never gotten one before. I know he'll do well at his job and then he'll learn better things and grow so much. That is how he can pay me back for the attempt at stealing." 

Bruce gasps like he's gotten an epiphany as he's lowered and buckled into his car seat, "Is he serving out his time like in jail?"

Thomas stares for a second before laughing loudly and nodding his head. "Sure thing, kiddo. Sure thing."

XXX

Bruce feels the phantom touches of a strong hand ruffling his hair and lips gently pressing to his nose. He always was amazed at how his father seemed to be able to talk to anyone, all he had to do was speak kindly and offer one of his soft smiles and it seemed no one knew what to do with it. 

Bruce recalls moments when he was a-in his own eyes-a little monster, brat, or just annoying. Yet Thomas always remained patient with him despite any inconveniences...

-A Father Is: Patient and Fun-

Thomas Wayne sighs tiredly as his five-year-old son keeps squirming in his lap, the boy won't settle down no matter what he tries to do. If he lowers the boy to the floor, he screams, and if he holds onto the child, squirming is all that happens. "Bruce, why don't you sit on the floor or go play while I work? Daddy has some things he needs to review and sign." There is a bit of hope in Thomas's voice as he suggests this, maybe Bruce will magically feel like going to find Alfred or pester his mother instead.

Alas, that is not meant to be the case as Bruce whines loudly at the suggestion of being "separated" from his dear father.

"No, play with me." 

Thomas closes his eyes and inhales deeply before exhaling, he loves his son, he really does, but if only the boy could leave him be for just a couple minutes to let him get his work done. "I can't play a game right now, bud. I have work to do that is time-sensitive, and if I don't do it, it will be very bad." Thomas hopes Bruce will quit by mentioning things being bad for him if he doesn't finish work, his son is usually so kind and understanding about those things whenever him or Martha put things that way, but when Bruce decides to be a gremlin about things...he sticks to the roll well and doesn't care.

Bruce pouts and squirms more, " No. It's not more m'portant than me. Play with me?" 

Thomas sighs loudly once again before perking up, "Oh! How about we play hide and seek? I bet you that you can't find me if you're the seeker."

Thomas smiles triumphantly as Bruce's competitive side comes out (he gets it from Martha) and he narrows his eyes challengingly before climbing down his father's lap and turning away while counting. While Bruce is distracted with counting, Thomas quickly snatches his pen and papers into his arms and runs out of the office and into Alfred's bedroom, hiding in the man's closet and slumping in relief at the silence while reading and reviewing what the papers say.

Back with Bruce, the child shouts loudly how "ready or not, here he comes." The boy checking around the office first before exiting the room and standing in the hallway, he's a bright kid so he avoids any places that he can fit into, he can be oblivious and naive, but he knows some of the secret places are too big for Thomas. Let's see...if Bruce didn't want to be found, where would he go? There are a lot of places in his home where he could potentially not be found, but there is only one place no one ever goes: Alfred's room.

Bruce giggles and makes his way to his best friend's room, sniffing the air and feeling happy as the scent of his father gets stronger the closer he gets to Alfred's room.

Thomas holds his breath as the door creaks open, what is with children being able to find their parents no matter what? The older man listens quietly and grows confused as he hears Bruce sniffling, did he make his child mad? Does he think he doesn't care about him anymore because he is trying to work? Before Thomas can reveal his hiding spot, he is interrupted by Bruce knocking on the closet rapidly with a few giggles. "I know you're in here, daddy! I can smell you!"

Thomas opens the closet door to stare at Bruce, smiling softly at the proud look the other wears on his face.

"It looks like you've got me. How about we make a deal? You let me finish my work and then I play with you to your hearts content." Bruce frowns and crosses his arms with a pout, trying to remain stubborn as Thomas pulls him into his arms, "Why don't you wanna play with me? I just want to be with you, papa." Thomas chuckles at the slight dramatics in Bruce's tone, but his heart warms at the soft admittance of his son, hugging the boy close and pressing a kiss to the child's crown. "I want to be with you too, in fact, I love to be with you. But, I also have big people work to do to help provide for this family and that makes me not able to play all the time, but it doesn't mean I don't ever want to."

Thomas tugs Bruce closer to himself until the boy is curled up on his lap, "Do you know how you get tired after playing with Alfred, your mother and I?" Bruce slowly nods. "Well, that happens with my work and when playing with you too, it's very fun, but there is a point and time where you stop to just rest. However, my most important job is making sure you're taken care of, just how your most important things are making your mother and I beautiful paintings to make us happy."

"And Alfred."

Thomas chuckles and nods, "Yes. And Alfred, he adores every picture you make for him, as do we. And do you like being disturbed when making us your art?"

Bruce slumps at the explanation, "I'm sorry. I just wanna play." Thomas quickly peppers the pudgy face in kisses at hearing the sad tone in the boy's voice, "You don't need to apologize to me. I understand what you are going through, I was a kid once too, Bruce. And I'm pretty sure I was worse when I was your age...I went out of my way to sabotage my parents work so they'd pay attention to me."

Bruce makes a weird face at those words and shakes his head, "You are daddy. You can't be my age."

Thomas laughs loudly and stands up with Bruce in his arms, blowing raspberries into the child's neck as he tosses him on Alfred's bed.

XXX

If he focuses hard enough, Bruce can feel the bed shake as if he is bouncing up and down on it, can feel the tingle of raspberries being blown into his neck and can hear Alfred's exasperated sigh at seeing his Masters messing up his bed. He really wants to stop imagining things of the past...but whenever his mind slips and allows those memories to push to the front of his mind, Bruce finds himself desperately grabbing onto those once happy memories like a lifeline.

Bruce knows there are many other things his father was: gentle, forgiving, firm, silly, brave, peaceful and many more things. But the one thing Bruce seems to remember most is the version of him that is lifeless in an alleyway...

-A Father Is: Someone To Mourn-

Bruce is eight-years-old and cold. He doesn't care that the sun is shining down to share its heat, nor does he care for the beautiful blue of the sky...if anything, he hates the colors and the happy chirps of the birds in the trees, despises the fact that nature is so happy when he feels so blue.

Bruce hates looking out the window and seeing his mom's garden in full bloom, the red of her roses mocking him as each petal dances to the sound of the breeze. They're red like two things Bruce can think of firsthand: blood and his mother's favorite lipstick...lipstick she'll never be able to wear ever again. Why do Martha's flowers get to bloom and live another day when the woman herself is gone now? How is it fair to his mother that her garden continues to flourish when she is no longer here to tend to it?

Bruce feels anger and looks away from the too lively garden, his eyes turning to the trees and the birds living in them. His father loved listening to the birds every morning, Bruce recalls watching the sunrise on the balcony with his dad as the man cradled him in his arms and listened to the birds. Bruce remembers his father telling him once that the birds are singing every morning because they are happy. That they are trying to extend their own happiness out to the world with their joyful songs, and Bruce remembers feeling happy when hearing the birds sing...but now it makes him sad.

He desires to tell the birds to shut up, there is nothing to be happy about when his whole world was taken from him a couple days ago, he hates how alive everything is and wishes the sky was grey with clouds. He wishes that the sun would hide and rain would fall in mourning of the people lost to him, he wishes that thunder would rumble and lightning would strike in grief and he wishes that nature would still itself and be quiet, that the birds wouldn't sing a happy tune as there is nothing to be happy about. The once colorful memories of Martha's garden and Thomas's trees are now tinted blue with sadness at memories Bruce can never share with his parents ever again.

Bruce looks up into the bright blue of the sky as a tear falls down his cheek, his chest tightens at the overwhelming feeling of grief in his heart, his knees shakily lowering himself to the ground as the scent of his mother's flowers in the air are now tainted by the smell of gunpowder. 

A sob escapes the child as he wraps his arms around himself in imitation of how his father used to, he doesn't want to feel cold anymore. His body trembles as the sound of the birds chirping is tainted by his father's pained shouts as he collapses to the ground, why is he alone? All alone. Where is-

A firm hand rests on Bruce's shoulder, tugging him into a warm body that smells like lavender and something slightly smokey.

Bruce hadn't even realized he was panicking until hearing the sound of Alfred's sturdy heartbeat, now that he has something to focus on, he focuses on the life beating in the other's chest. His body slowly starts to warm up as Alfred also presses his shaky hand to his chest, the other just simply being a solid presence when Bruce is scared and unsure. "D-Don't leave me...please don't leave me." Bruce whispers into Alfred's suit jacket, something oddly warm spreading through his heart at the bleak looking clothes Alfred is wearing, usually the man has at least a splash of white to add some color...but the man is wearing all black. It's like he's letting Bruce know that he misses them too, that he isn't alone in how mundane he feels and that despite how bright things are, maybe there is still room to mourn and miss someone who is lost.

"I'm here, Bruce. I'm right here."

XXX

Bruce comes to at a firm hand on his shoulder, his hand automatically reaching up to feel the now aged hand of Alfred, breathing in deeply at the man's voice. "Bruce, are you alright?"

Bruce opens his eyes and is shocked to see the sun light coloring the room in its beautiful rays of red and orange. Blinking twice at the wetness he feels on his eyelashes, Bruce finds he doesn't mind the splashes of color as much this time around, he knows he has so many things to grieve and feel saddened over...but he also knows he has plenty to celebrate for. The man standing before him looking down worriedly, that grounding touch gently placed upon his shoulder-

"Father."

Bruce's breath hitches as he looks towards his open bedroom door, his eyes watering at the slightly sleepy look his youngest child still has on his face, he has never seen something or someone so beautiful. Is this how his own father felt long ago when Bruce came to him during mornings or for Father's Day? Bruce opens up his arms and smiles as Damian doesn't complain and climbs into the bed, holding in his laughter at the sound of the boy's other siblings making a ruckus as they flood into his room. Bruce takes a moment to look back at Alfred and finds his heart swelling with love at the man he now calls father...he knows that Alfred will never be Thomas, but the man never expected to be, all he knows is that they both are what is and was needed in his life.

Thomas Wayne taught him many valuable life lessons while he was alive, but Alfred showed him the other aspects of what a father does: step up.

Alfred didn't have to take Bruce on as his own...and yet he took care of him, fed him, clothed him, comforted him, was patient with him, was firm and a solid structure when Bruce himself felt he was about to crumble. But most importantly, he showed him to love unconditionally and without any expectations from the person you care for, the man truly has only wished the best for Bruce in times where he would scream, shout and cry at or to Alfred...and yet the man only ever opened up his arms or offered his hand for the grieving child to take whenever he was ready to.

A small hand on his cheek breaks Bruce out of his thoughts, looking down he sees Damian staring at him worriedly. And when looking up...Bruce sees so many beautiful colors from the people he loves. Finding himself thankful for the proof of life from every single one of them. "I'm...happy?" Someone in the sea of children snorts at how it sounds like a question, but Richard shushes them and tackles Bruce into a hug, the one body slowly turning into a dog pile of giggling children (plus one cousin) as they all shout. "Happy Father's Day, dad!"

Bruce feels more tears fall down his face as he closes his eyes and holds his family close to his heart, finding himself thankful for the memories of his parents as the smell of Martha's roses blows through the room and the sound of Thomas's favorite birds sing loudly for Bruce to hear. And when opening his eyes to see Alfred standing at the side of his bed simply content to watch over them, it is Bruce who offers his hand for the other to take if he wants.

A genuine smile graces Bruce's face at the warm hand wrapping around his own. The man only finding one thing to say to the man who stepped up as a man and a father-

"Happy Father's Day, Alfie."

(I just wanted a fic about Bruce actually thinking about how much he misses his parents, but because it's Father's Day I focused on Thomas a bit more. I hope I wasn't sleepy enough to not have this make some sort of sense? But again, I apologize for the writing this time around. 😭😭😭

I am sorry for the lack of Bruce's children being involved here, but as stated before, I wanted to focus on Bruce actually pondering on how much he does miss his biological father while also being happy at the father he also found in Alfred. I wanted to show a Bruce who is realizing that it's okay to still miss his late father and it's also perfectly fine for him to love Alfred like that as well.

Near the end there is a slight parallel (that probably wasn't noticeable as I didn't exactly write it that way lol) between Alfred and Bruce as father's near the end, because Bruce stepped up and in for all of his children when they were scared, alone and unstable. I also got that idea because I feel I recall one time in a Batman comic that Richard mentioned Bruce stepping in for all of them and all that cute family stuff!

DC can try to rip good dad Bruce and happy BatFam out of my hands, but I won't allow it. That version of the family is all that should exist UwU, they deserve it all! You darlings are much appreciated for stopping by to read if you did. Don't be afraid to leave a comment if you want, I promise I don't bite! 😂

You darlings please stay safe, happy, healthy and of course lovely as always. And if you can...let your father's (whether bio or not) know how much you appreciate them or love them and know that everything will be alright, you just gotta believe. 💛💛💛💛)

[your-fave-is-bi]

good news: dont have covid or the flu

bad news: this means my mystery throat hurting and muscles aching is so far indeed still a mystery

also bad news: dont get to stay home from work

[thewingedwolf]

i keep seeing “it doesn’t matter if this post about anti semitism was made by a zionist, it’s still relevant” and i think this is a really deranged thing to say, but it’s a deranged thing that happens all the time so i guess it makes sense that people keep saying it. like, this was also a discussion when the crypto terf thing started going off, where people would say “it doesn’t matter if the op is a transmisogynist it’s a good post” but the op is specifically including trans women in their argument about male privilege which means their fundamental argument is incorrect and at odds with any and all feminist discussion!!! the same way that like, it doesn’t actually matter whether jackson hinkle is making a good point about palestine or not, he’s a far right anti semitic pos grifter and we should be blocking him any time he tries to engage because his fundamental argument is not “palestinians deserve a right to life, dignity, self determination, return, and safety” his argument is “the jews are controlling the media” a zionist will follow up their post about anti semitism with some shit like “i mean these leftists get mad when you call it the israel hamas WAR instead of a genocide, bc they’re anti semitic” while pictures of mutilated children’s corpses are being blasted all over my twitter feed. yes objectively anti semitism is on the rise, but that doesn’t mean you start platforming genocide deniers, sorry. there are plenty of people who don’t like, straight up refer to palestinians as rats that you can reference when discussing the rise in hate crimes!!

[indi-glo-archive]

the young royals fandom is so fucking weird about sara and i hate them for it

[im2tired4usernames]

Ugh I was excited for today until I found out I'd have to spend it with people that actively make me hate being alive hate the future and drain me off all energy physically mentally spiritually like a vampire I can't stand to be around her she is the definition of stupidity and even then that's generous as fuck this bitch has filled her brain with so much garbage I watch her brain cells die at alarming rates every single time she uses her vocal cords her giggles make me want to jam a sewing needle into my ear repeatedly so I can never have to hear it again its a friendly reminder that my parents decisions this time my dad's constantly makes me want to die

[loudmound]

alright. u know what. i shall live my truth.

ezio didn't kill the pope bc he thought he'd stoop to his level of moral depravity. he didn't bc he was fuckoff TIRED. he spent 20 odd years of his life dedicated to this vengeance quest of his that he refused to back down from but realized then and there that he was fucking sick of such a fruitless endeavor. he literally says to rodrigo that killing him won't bring his family back. there was nothing said about morals or anything of the sort. it was simply just that he was tired, and he wanted this all to just... stop.

and also, like, brotherhood exists as a means to say "hey, uh, while it's true that ezio didn't have the full picture, he should have killed rodrigo. he made a huge fucking mistake as an assassin." the narrative doesn't reward him for-- while something of an admirable decision for his development as an individual-- an incredibly shortsighted and selfish decision that endangered the italian city states at large. he was supposed to kill rodrigo! that was his JOB! and he DIDN'T DO IT! while ezio certainly didn't deserve to have his home destroyed and uncle killed, it was still something of a consequence for letting rodrigo live. cesare would've invaded monteriggioni regardless of this choice, yes, but throwing the templars off-balance in such a way then and there would've been HUGE for the assassins!!!! AND EZIO! DIDN'T DO IT!!!!

not every single revenge narrative that ends with the person not killing their biggest assailant is always from the lens of Protecting One's Morals. sometimes it's more complicated than that. sometimes it's for an entirely different reason. ezio's narrative is accutely aware of this choice that he made and followed up by having it bite him in the ass! machiavelli fucking chews him out for it!!!

he also threw cesare off the fuckin burning castle wall in spain at the end of brotherhood. i feel like ppl forget about that a lot, too.

[pepprs]

ok two things. #1 i am IMPOSSIBLY exhausted. just took a nap for a couple hours and have been awake for a bit but i feel like ivr been whacked like a punching bag like good god. and #2 is gonna have to make me delete this post later bc i feel weird and bad and paranoid abt saying it lol but. it’s just fucking weird and bad kinda bc im literally 2 years older than / removed from the students who work closest with us rn (who i spent most of today tabling w) and it’s so awkward bc we’re at the same-ish life stages and ik we totally would’ve been friends if we’d gone thru the same programs together as students but they ignore me / don’t and can’t talk to me like we’re friends bc im a staff member and my attempts to talk to them are lame and weird so idk. it’s just a lot and stressful and sobering

[landofgay]

excited for another day of my one supervisor telling me I'm doing an amazing job and gushing over me vs my other supervisor and my "boss" who's not supposed to still be my boss persay or not in the way she was anyways, they fucking act like I'm scum for trying to get ahead by *glances at notes* helping my supervisors

[milo-is-rambling]

My mother really out here telling me “you just make all the plans for driving and I’ll work around that” and then a couple days later once I’ve made plans and talked to people about shit she’s like hey actually you should come up a day earlier so you can get your grandparents (who are practically falling apart mentally and physically and my grandfather pisses himself and if he pees in the car that I am both sleeping and driving in I will be upset!!!) in the middle of Maine and drive them to New Hampshire for me bc I will be too tired from getting a three hour flight to go drive them :’( AS IF IM NOT DRIVING SIX HOURS OR MORE EVERY DAY FOR A WEEK HELLO??? YOU CANT DRIVE FIVE HOURS AFTER SLEEPING THE WHOLE TIME ON A THREE HOUR FLIGHT LIKE I KNOW ITS CRAMPED AND MISERABLE BUT YOU’RE GOING TO GO FROM A PLANE TO A NICE RENTAL CAR VS ME SLEEPING IN THE FUCKING TRUNK FOR A WEEK LIKE GIRL WHAT YOU ALREADY TOLD ME TO PLAN EVERYTHING AND NOW YOU’RE MOVING SHIT AROUND AND SHES ALL LIKE “well your aunt is gonna be visiting on the 11th so I have to get a flight on the 12th and then graduation is on the 13th early in the morning so I just won’t have time to go get them” LIKE GIRL THIS IS THE SAME AUNT THAT IS COMING TO OUR HOUSE FOR ONE SINGULAR DAY AND THEN WE WILL SEE HER AGAIN IN NEW HAMPSHIRE WHILE WE ARE ON OUR TRIP LIKE YOU LITERALLY TOLD ME “oh don’t worry about missing her we’re gonna do the graduation party at her house when we’re up north” AND THEN YOU WONT SHIFT YOUR PLANS ONE DAY TO FIX ALL OF THE SCHEDULING CONFLICTS BUT YOU WANT ME TO TWEAK A WHOLE WEEK OF DRIVING PLANS BACK A DAY TO MAKE IT MORE CONVENIENT FOR YOU and also I simply don’t want to. Also the garbage truck just passed bc I slept in and I don’t think we got the garbage out and I know we definitely didn’t get the trash from my room or bathroom out of the house and so now moms gonna be pissed at me for that god fuck this is so infuriating I am not planning a trip while on my period ever again I want to bite my mothers head off for even suggesting an alternate plan what is wrong with me I am such a bitch what the fuck no wonder she fucking hates me okay I am going back to bed she can figure this shit out later when she’s not slamming doors and yelling about work

[0last-ditch-effort0]

I know I'm supposed to be good and gracious and kind but yaknow what? Sometimes, just sometimes, I wish ableists would develop disabilities-chronic fatigue and pain and migraines and the rest of it- and I wanna give em a lick of what they gave me. How does it feel, to be told your best isn't good enough? That you're not trying hard enough? You can break your back and it'll never be enough to please me. Get a taste of your own fucking medicine

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

.

[lovsome]

venting :-) sorry

[willowser]

your little angel of a son inherits katsuki's bad temper, and it manifests in his terrible fours.

there's an awful little shriek that echoes throughout the house and katsuki is on his feet and halfway to the living room before his eyes are even open—but the only danger awaiting him there is a pouty little brat.

his son is sitting amidst a swarm of toys that have been strewn about haphazardly, and his arms are crossed and big fat tears are in his eyes and he looks mad as all hell. you do, too, sitting across from him with a deep frown, holding the ripped page of a book from his little shelf.

"no sir," you warn, "we do not treat our things this way."

you incite a meltdown.

katsuki feels his own temper flaring—half from shock and awe at his little mini-me and also from the exhaustion wearing him thin—when your son kicks his legs out in a burst of rage, letting out another little shriek of anger. your cheeks puff up, wearing the same furious expression, and at the hiss of his name, the little brat jumps to his feet and snatches a toy truck nearby and launches it across the room.

"oi!"

your son's attention snaps to katsuki, startled, losing a hint of anger as he pouts at the floor.

"what'd she just tell you?" and when he gets no response, katsuki prods with a, "hah? answer me."

but the little boy only stamps his little feet and grunts out a furious, wordless sound that has katsuki's lip curling. you let out a heavy sigh, shaking your head at him before frowning down at the torn page in your hands, and then katsuki is planting a hand on the back of his son's head and steering him towards the front door.

"time to take a walk."

the boy goes, even though his arms are crossed and his eyes are downcast. he only resists once, as katsuki tries to shove his little feet into his shoes.

"i don't wanna." he mumbles, face scrunched and wet before promptly looking away.

"i didn't ask."

"hmm!"

katsuki has to resist the urge to pinch his own son.

they get out the door eventually, and the little boy stomps along for the most part, no longer needing a guiding hand on the back of his head once they get around the block a time or two. neither of them say anything.

fatherhood has taught katsuki a lot of things, which was expected, but the one thing that's surprised him is—he's learned all the things he doesn't want his son to be.

the first of them being angry. not the way katsuki was, mean and selfish, throughout his childhood; hateful and careless, in his teens; shut off and simmering, even now.

he waits until the tension has melted off his little shoulders, until his little face has dried and evened out. his arms swing at his sides, occasionally coming up to wipe his snot with the back of his hand, and he eyes the few wildflowers they pass with a little hum and a small smile.

katsuki tugs once on his ear, frowning down at the little brat when he peeks up at him. "that how you're supposed to treat your mama?"

he doesn't answer at first, leaning his head all the way back and clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth, until katsuki stops walking. "no, sir."

"how you s'posed to treat her?"

"with love."

"how you s'posed to treat your toys?"

"with care."

"uh-huh," katsuki squishes his son's cheeks in his hand, shaking his head lightly from side to side until he starts giggling. "that how you acted today?"

"no, sir."

"that how y'r gonna act again?"

"no, sir."

"okay," katsuki murmurs, nodding once before letting him free. the little boy bounces on his feet and sucks on his lip, grinning when his tummy is pinched. "now pick those for your mama."

and he does, carefully plucking a small handful of flowers from the grass as they make their way back home, and just before he runs up the steps to the house, katsuki's little angel of a son hands him the biggest one.

[seumyo]

BAKUGOU KATSUKI ✰ 3:58

No amount of hectic schedules, exhausting patrols, rowdy villains, and never-ending legal paperwork could ever keep Bakugou from attending his daughters’ extracurricular activities—because he’d literally go through literal hell and back than to ever see a disheartened pout along with the silent treatment after he gets home from work.

You think he’ll ever miss any of his daughters’ milestones? Fuck no!

Bakugou insists on being at every event, his phone—and even an actual camera during a good day—in hand, his heart swelling with pride and unconditional love that makes his chest figuratively hurt; it might as well be a medical problem at some point. 

Because, if anything, Bakugou Katsuki is a father first and a hero second.

“Shit, ‘m late. Have they started yet?”

He’s sweating as if he just used his explosions to propel himself in the air to get to you quicker, but, in truth, he sort of had to just run since the traffic on the highway today would’ve only angered and slowed him down. He left patrol to Halfie, who offered to take his shift, knowing how many times Bakugou covered for him when he was in his son’s piano recital.

“They just started doing warmups,” you answer. “Did you run? You’re drenched to the bone; you’re going to catch a cold if you don’t get changed into some dry clothes.”

“Hah, doubt it.” He snorts, though he does appreciate the thought of you bringing him a spare shirt for just-in-case purposes.

You're always the one who thinks ahead, aren't you? Bakugou knows he’s a very lucky man to have such a doting, caring wife that humbles him whenever he gets too focused on his pride. The balance that he didn’t know he needed!

Ignoring the gawking stares of the other parents—because it’s not everyday you see the Pro Hero Dynamight in mundane activities such as watching his kid take gymnastics’ lessons—he looks through the glass in search of his little princess.

Just as he saw her, his lips curled to that oh-so genuine smile, one that just said, “That’s my daughter, right there! Look at how awesome she is!” 

Bakugou remembers how his parents were the same and how they were very supportive of his interests and hobbies, no matter how odd they may be for a five-year-old. How often do you see someone learning to take on both hiking and archery at the age of five? Bakugou was sure he learned most skills during his childhood that made him a firm hero in the field today.

“She has a bit of trouble with tumbling because of her tummy.”

“Yeah? And does that have somethin’ to do with my awesome cooking?” Bakugou replied smugly. “Besides, ‘ts just baby fat, and I’d prefer to see her like this than to see her thin but often sick.”

“Mhm, and she makes up for the cutest ending pose.”

“And her effortless splits. Have the coaches seen her do that?”

You shook your head. “Not yet,” you say, “but I think they’re about to do it—oh! Look, look!”

And he does; his phone’s camera is already recording his youngest daughter doing a perfect vertical split, while the other girls somewhat struggle to maintain a consistent posture. 

“She’s a natural, hun.”

“She is,” you chuckle, “just like her Daddy to a certain extent.”

“Damn right, she is.”

Bakugou tries to hold back his laughter when your daughter once again attempts a forward roll with the guidance of the staff. Her tummy somewhat makes it a bit difficult for her to do so. The way she hesitates but then does the forward roll, albeit a little lopsided with a smile that shows her adorable tooth gap—it was safe to say that your daughter was over the moon with her gymnastics lessons.

It’s all too much for him to take.

And when all is over, he greets his daughter by picking her up and blowing raspberries on her neck that have her squealing in laughter before he insists that he’ll be the one to talk to the coaches about the upcoming schedules and the progress your daughter has made. 

“Mr. Bakugou, she’s a good listener, and I believe that she’ll be moving onto the next class with the older children in no time,” they told him. “Has she received prior training before this one?”

“She’s also taking ballet lessons,” he answers, “but gymnastics is what she really likes. Ballet was just a compromise since your services weren’t available in our area at that time.”

“That’s wonderful to hear. It’s a joy to have her in class. I’ve already sent Dr. [Last Name] the schedules we offered, and we are looking forward to having your daughter in the upcoming lessons.”

The walk back to your car was light and quiet for a change. Your youngest daughter, Kusami, was out like a light in Bakugou’s arms, having worn herself out with socializing, rolling, doing splits, and whatnot the gymnastics’ instructors told her to do. And Bakugou was just letting the simple moment sink in because this is what he considers the most rewarding part of his day. 

Time spent with his family.

Bakugou also warmed up to the thought of having to interact with other parents. He chatted with a single father earlier, whose daughter was the oldest in Kusami’s class. It was nice to converse with equally enthusiastic and supportive parents that you meet through your children's extracurricular activities.

“Let’s go through a drive-through; get Katsumi her usual order,” Bakugou murmurs, remembering how his oldest daughter, Katsumi, would’ve probably woken up from her nap by now and was probably anticipating her family’s return. 

“Alright,” you nod. “Katsumi and Kusami have swimming lessons tomorrow at five in the afternoon, too. Do you think you’d get home that early?”

“Of course,” he answers. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

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