#single mother!au

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

It's all fun and games until...

[Commission for @dontheckinswear]

[deunmiu-dessie]

(unedited) widowedfather!simon gets help with his daughter. [ connected with this post as an au! ] [ one, two ]

the incessant wailing of the baby seemed never-ending. her plump, delicate cheeks were tinged with a crimson hue, and torrents of tears streamed down her face. simon, standing amidst the formula cans, wondered briefly how such a tiny thing could produce such an ear-piercing noise, the sound grating at his ears, which only served to exacerbate his already troubled state of mind.

he was at a loss, unable to figure out what was causing her distress. simon had just fed her, burped her, and changed her diaper recently—yet she continued to cry inconsolably, legs kicking and arms tucked to her body. it’d been like that, him desperately trying to calm her down while receiving judgmental glares from onlookers (although he couldn't bring himself to care) for the past fifteen minutes.

she misses her mother.

well, she's gone. he was all she had now, and he wasn't much– he knew that. he’d asked price’s wife for help several times after she was born, when he couldn't figure out why she was crying, what to do when she wouldn't go to sleep. simon eventually stopped asking for help a couple of months later, didn't want to inconvenience them any more than he already had. didn't matter if they swore that he wasn't. he was a father, he needed to act like one.

simon had never been annoyed or angry with his child. how could he ever find it in himself to be annoyed or angry with his own flesh and blood? especially when she bore such an uncanny resemblance to his late wife.

no, his anger was solely directed towards himself, anger for not being able to understand her needs quickly, anger for not knowing how to soothe her. doubt plagued his every thought, making him question his capability to raise her properly.

“hi, would you like some help with her?”

taken from his thoughts, simon turned slightly to where the voice spoke, a woman standing just a few feet from him. her grocery cart was filled with food and two children, twin boys, were hanging off the side he realized. they seemed to be no more than five years old, but they were calm; giggling amongst themselves and pointing to what cereals they would eat early tomorrow.

simon redirects his attention toward the woman, her smile is warm, sympathetic, and non-judgmental. she eyes the newborn with starry eyes and a slight pout on her lips. simon shakes his head softly. “s’alrigh, don’t want t’bother you.” he murmurs gently. regardless, even though he declines her help, his daughter continues to cry inconsolably, much like the day she was born.

she waves him off and grins— everything about her was so, motherly, so kind. “believe it or not, i miss the newborn phase. they're like little critters when they hit their tot years.” she whispers the last part to avoid her kids overhearing and sends him a wink. he chuckles, it's small, barely there but she hears it nonetheless and responds with a soft laugh of her own.

the woman takes a few steps forward and gently takes the baby from his grasp, despite his hesitation, before he can decline once more. and a weight is lifted from his shoulders, his body no longer tense from not understanding what was wrong. simon watches as she cradles the newborn, a bright smile adorning her face, before she looks up at him. “she’s just a little gassy, feeding her while she’s upright will help to stop this from happening.”

simon anxiously nods, his heart pounding as the woman gently applies pressure just below his daughter's tummy, causing the gas to escape gradually and the baby's cries to turn into soft whimpers instead. his heartbeat slows, and he readjusts his arms to take the child. the woman lovingly coos at the newborn one last time before placing her delicately into simon’s waiting embrace.

she waves him off once more when he goes to thank her, smiling. “we parents need to stick together,” she says, before she walks back towards her cart and affectionately runs her hands through her children’s hair. “so, where to next?” her laugh is soft and loving as the two excitedly shout, "candy!" she looks over her shoulder at him and rolls her eyes, mouthing: ‘critters’

and simon, since the death of his wife, finally feels something.

[spacedace]

Got inspired by the below tiktok and the idea of the Rogues killing the Joker in revenge for Jason instead of Bruce and had to write about it.

Here, have probably way too many words (with more to come most likely, this really won't leave me alone) of the Rogue's feelings about Jason's death at the Joker's hands and everything that followed.

(also I know the timeline is a bit screwy, shhh just go with it, we're going on vibes with this one lol)

-

Childhood was not held universally sacred in the dark streets of Gotham.

The city was hard and cruel and she didn’t care about the ages of those that were ground up and spit out in her oily black heart.

A kid could slit your throat as easy as a man grown in a place like their fine city, maybe easier even for those who still fell for the ideal of children being incapable of anything but innocence and sweetness. Children learned from the world around them though, they learned from the savagery that filled their world, the hard scrabble desperate attempts to survive. They learned what dark corners to avoid, which ones were safer to skitter down.

It didn’t mean there weren’t still some rules of decency to be honored though.

Most folks, even those in the circle of the Rogues, largely left kids out of the equation. Crossfire happened of course, hitting busy city centers always meant some kind of collateral. But there wasn’t much that they got out of purposefully hurting kids outside a black mark on their name in most levels of the grungy underbelly of the city and one hell of a big target on their back. Both from the Bat and those criminals in the dark with them that took offense to those kinds of things. They were crooks, but with few exceptions they weren’t complete monsters.

Robin had always held an interesting place in their grungy little ecosystem. Anything to do with the Bat was generally ruled as gloves-off, do what you do without hesitation. And Robin - both of ‘em - had no problem hitting hard and being ruthless. The first one in particular had a feral sort of rage to him that was a terrifying thing to be on the business end of.

But they were still kids.

Defending yourself from any kid swinging on you was fair game, a person had the right to defend themselves. Grabbing up Robin to hold hostage or bait Gotham’s local cryptid, that was all fine and dandy. You could even get away with roughing the kid up a little here and there, so long as you made sure not to go too far and always kept hits to where the kid’s armor was the thickest. No hard and fast written rules, mind, but general rules of thumbs. Lines indistinct due to the shaky ground a child dancing through the night as a vigilante left all of them on, but ones clear enough that you knew when you were at risk of going too far.

Besides, the Robins were good kids. Fucking feral little shits, of course, able to leave you bleeding just as easy from a kick as they were a sharp word. But good kids. Even most the Rogues in the Gallery liked em. It was hard not to be at least a little fond of a gutsy little punk like that.

Though they were all maybe a tad less nervous around Robin II than they were the original.

Robin I had a lot of anger burning in him, a lot of anger in him, but he was still a cheerful boy with a bright attitude that was refreshing in a world so bleak and dark as the one they all lived in. It was up in the air which was scarier about the kid: The smiled he gave when he was about to give a hands on demonstration about how much force a tiny ten year old could put into a kick when they had half a dozen spins shoved into a flip to wind up to 80 miles an hour, or the flash of his teeth when he was demonstrating the knife sharp brilliance of his belief that Batman was only as frightening as Robin was hopeful.

They weren’t sure if he realized that sometimes they felt a helluva lot more hope at the sight of the Bat when the little bird was putting the hurt on them, or if he’d simply folded that fact neatly into his core philosophy without issue.

Robin II on the other hand had this kind of quiet shyness to him - even as he was shouting the most inventive swears ever heard by human ear at someone while he kicked them in the balls hard enough to make ‘em see not just the face of their own god but a few dozen besides. He was just as unhinged as the Robin before him - seemed to be a requirement for the job really - but there was a distinct different in how the two birds flitted about the darkened skyline of the city. Where the first Robin’s smile was as much danger as it was dazzle, a fanged declaration of victory against the dark, Robin II’s was a sunny, stubborn declaration of perseverance. Kid was sassy and smart, and never - ever - flinched away from extending a hand to those he thought in need of it.

Even if the folks he offered that hand to were in the middle of an attack on some fancy Gala or Wayne Enterprises or whatever target of the week it was. Even knowing the offered hand was likely to be slapped away and followed by a right hook. Kid still always tried.

They all knew why.

The Bat was big on offering chances, on rehabilitation rather than damnation. Some of Robin II being the way he was came from the broody cryptid he followed around. But Batman couldn’t claim to be the sole reason for Robin II being the way he was, couldn’t even pretend to be the cause of most of it. Nah, they knew why the little bird was the way he was.

That unmistakable thick accent. That frame that was always a little too thin even as he got older and stronger. That unshakable, headstrong spirit.

Robin II was an Alley Kid.

A true child of Gotham.

Her polluted waters in his veins. Her smoggy air in his lungs. Her shadows clinging to his edges less like a beast looking to swallow a small bird up and more like a protective mother hiding her hatchling. He understood the world most of them came from. The one they all lived in. Knew it in a way anyone who hadn’t been swallowed up by the dark never really could.

Everyone had their favorite, but even those that claimed the first Robin as theirs couldn’t deny that Robin II was someone to be respected. Nor could they deny a fondness for the chain smoking, classic lit referencing, perpetually baby-faced little shit. They’d all had knock out drag out fights with the kid and knew how fucking unhinged the puny motherfucker could be in a fight, but he always tempered it with offers of resources, of a listening ear, of understanding.

He visited them after they’d been arrested sometimes. In Arkham, or Blackgate or wherever else they’d been locked up in after being stopped by the Dynamic Duo. The little bird would make the rounds whenever he had a broken wing or was stuck waiting as the Bat interrogated someone else or for any other reason he wasn’t out flitting about the city skyline at night. He’d bring cookies or snacks and even cigarettes from his own secret stash on the rare occasion, mask unable to hide the furtive glances around to check for the living shadow that was the disapproving Bat.

The Rogues and their Goons always had a soft spot for the Robins. And Robin II made it especially easy to let fondness bleed out of them from time to time. He was a good kid.

But childhood was not held universally sacred in the dark streets of Gotham.

Bad things happened to good kids all the time.

And some of the monsters that lurked in the city’s darkest shadows took the black mark of a kid killer as a point of pride.

Robin II disappeared one day. Just after that piece of shit Garzonas took the fast way down from the top of a tall building. There were a lot of Rogues with doctoral degrees to their names but even those Goons that dropped out of school before they learned to spell their own names could do that math.

The big bad Bat had benched the boy after the fierce little bird had done what any decent member of the criminal underbelly would have. There were those that thought maybe it’d been an accident, that the kid was pulled off duty because of being too upset at unintentionally crossing the heavy line the Bat drew in the sand. Those voices were drowned out pretty quick though.

Sure, Robin II was all about second chances, of doing better, of redemption. But Garzonas had chances to spare and only ever spat in the face of those offering them. Doubled down on being a monster in a way very, very few of the Rogues Gallery would. The kid was a sweetheart, but he wasn’t no push over and there were some things so heinous that there was only one way of handling them. Crime Alley had its own kind of justice system, and when faced with a monster that was beyond even Batman’s jurisdiction, Robin II did what he always did: fell back on his roots.

Or so the rumors said, at least.

That was the thing about Gotham’s seedy underbelly. It was a grimy, wretched nest of vipers and cut-throats, but it was also worse than any beauty parlor when it came to gossip. No one actually knew anything other than that piece of shit motherfucker took a dive while Robin was chasing him and that he’d not been seen on the streets since. But most had a fondness for the kid, and a distaste for the kind of cruelty Garzonas reveled in and there was no proof that Robin hadn’t gone and done the world a favor by drop kicking that barbaric sack of shit off a roof. So as far as most in the Gallery were concerned, the little bird had stepped up and been a hero.

Time passed. Not a lot. But enough. The Bat disappeared too, popping up on an entire other continent in a way that was awfully tempting. Even with other Masks playing baby sitter while the local cryptid was away. Rogues were scrambling to set plans in motion, Goons getting hired en masse, weapons and weird chemicals getting delivered to shady places across Gotham by the truck-full. The criminal underbelly was abuzz with the same excited energy of children the day before a big birthday party.

And then the news came in.

There were people in the dark who made their living finding things out. Knowing things that no one else did or could. Some even specialized, keeping tabs on Batman and Robin better than anyone else in the business were able. And when the information they found wasn’t anything handy to have tucked into a back pocket or a secret they were paid extremely well to keep? They held on to with the same tenacity a sieve clung to water.

Robin II had run off across the globe and ended up in Ethiopia. Something to do with a doctor doing aid work, the same something that had the Bat end up there was the assumption. Kid ran off to handle things himself or was sent on a separate path on purpose for some plan or other the Bat had cooked up on his hunt.

Whatever the reason, the kid crossed paths with the Clown.

Alone.

Childhood was not held universally sacred in the dark streets of Gotham. The city was hard and cruel and she didn’t care about the ages of those that were ground up and spit out in her oily black heart. But Robin II was hers, the child of her heart, an exception to the rule. And besides, most folks - even those in the Rogues Gallery - largely left the purposeful harm of kids out of the equation.

The Joker wasn’t most folks.

And the little bird was a long way away from the protective shadows of his mother city.

The Rogues and their Goons always had a soft spot for the Robins. And Robin II made it especially easy to let fondness bleed out of them from time to time. He was a good kid.

When the news broke, it broke most of them right along with it.

Plans stalled. Schemes ended. Gotham, for an unnervingly quiet stretch of time that neither its civilians or the world at large understood, went still. Crime continued, of course, but the big names weren’t seen. It was only right, by the standards of those that lived their lives in the dark, that they hold off and give the man that fought them all so relentlessly over the past years the time he needed to focus on hunting down the monster that killed his son. He didn’t need the distraction, and they all owed it to Robin II not to interfere while the Bat at last put a final end to the Clown.

And the hellish cryptid would need his full focus on this one. The Joker wasn’t one to take lightly at the best of times, but he’d set himself up neatly in the middle of a nasty bear trap. Ugly and complicated in the way everything with the Clown was. Interference from the CIA, from the UN, from Superman.

Shit went down. People heard about the Bat and the Clown throwing down in a helicopter plummeting from the sky in one hell of a water landing. Big Blue fished Batman out of the drink before he could drown but there’d been no sign of the Joker.

But the Bat would find him.

They all knew the relentless bastard would find him. It was just a matter of time. With the hellish drive of a demon straight from Gotham’s darkest shadows, the Bat would track the grinning, child killing ghoul down and make right the terrible wrong the evil motherfucker had done. Batman would hunt him to the ends of the earth and enact the justice he held up so fiercely. Robin II would have the vengeance the kid so rightly deserved.

It was just a matter of time. So they waited. And waited.

Days.

Weeks.

Months.

The Clown still lived.

The world, impossibly, began to move on. The Bat returned to his lurking in the night, picking off gangs and petty crooks and no-name gangsters as if nothing had happened at all. More vicious, more savage, but failing to turn that rise in brutality into the killing blow against the one figure that so rightly deserved it.

No one knew what was happening. There were rumors and theories, as there always were in the underground. Some thought that it wasn’t the Bat at all back in Gotham but someone else pretending for awhile, looking after his neglected city while he continued his pursuit of the Joker. Other held that it was the Bat but the whole thing was a ploy to draw the Clown out into the open. A pretense at not caring meant to get under the Clown’s skin, make the asshole mad enough to get stupid and sloppy and reveal himself.

That the man simply had given up was beyond comprehension. Beyond what any upstanding Rogue could accept. So it simply couldn’t be true. There was a trick being played. Some brilliant game of 4D chess that none of them had been able to parse out. It’d be revealed in time, and they see the brilliant trap that had been set. The Clown would be lured out, the Bat would put him down for good, and then they’d all at last raise a glass to the little bird that had been shot down far too soon and smoke shitty cigarettes and quote literary masters and mourn the loss one of Gotham’s own true children.

They just had to play along. Stumbling forward back into their usual habits, pretending that it was a choice and not the world just forcibly dragging them along. It’d make sense, eventually. The Bat had a plan. Robin II wasn’t forgotten, his killer not left free to roam and ravage unpunished for what he’d done.

And then one day there was a new bird flitting across the rooftops.

Chasing the Bat’s looming frame like a reverse shadow. Bright flashes of color in contrast to the bleak darkness of Gotham’s grimy nights. Small and thin and young.

Not the first Robin. With his showman bright grin and bloody rage and unwavering belief in the terrifying power of hope. Not the brilliant, vicious little boy that they’d seen grow over the years into the fierce and fearless Nightwing.

Not Robin II either.

Not Gotham’s soft hearted little bruiser with his unshakable belief that people could be better if given the chance, shinning so bright in the dark as he held out a hand that even the Rogues had no choice but to believe right along with him sometimes. Not the tough little songbird they’d never get to see grow up. Unavenged and unhonored. Put in a box and buried in the ground with a name none of them would ever know carved into a stone they’d never be able to visit.

No.

It was a new Robin.

A new child with the R emblazoned upon his chest.

Sharp and quick and young in the way the birds always were when they started flying at the Bat’s side. Every inch of the boy’s tiny frame a tragedy and an insult. One very, very few of Gotham’s vicious underbelly were willing to tolerate.

Childhood was not held universally sacred in the dark streets of Gotham, but there was a damn big difference between holding something sacred and not giving a damn about it at all. There were rules unspoken but understood, a way things were done. Nothing so solid or concrete as a code of conduct, more a collection of time honored traditions. Blood for blood was among the oldest and truest, and the more precious the person taken the more vital and vicious payment was to be made in kind.

The Clown had killed Robin II.

Beaten the kid half to death and then finished the job with a bomb.

Everyone knew he’d done it laughing all the way.

The Bat should have done the same in kind. Done worse. It was justice, it was what was right. You kill a kid you’re marked forever. You kill one so well liked and kill ‘em like that and you’re destined for a cruel and cold death. The Bat had first dibs. It was his kid. It was his right to put an end to that awful laughter and let his son have peace at last.

But he never did.

Nightwing had. For a bit. For a moment.

Robin I, who half the time had scared them all more than the Bat ever could. Dazzling and dizzying and dangerous. Gave back the pain and hurt the Clown had forced upon him with clenched fists and bone shattering hits. They were glad for him, that he was able to beat the monster who had taken his little brother from him to death, that he was able to have such justice.

And then the Bat stepped in.

Revived the fucking Clown.

A slap in the face. The snapping crack of a spine beneath one straw too many. The final, unforgivable insult the man had dared visit upon not just the child taken from him but the entirety of Gotham.

The Rogues and their Goons always had a soft spot for the Robins. Respected their ferocity, admired their moxie, marveled at their ability to keep shining in the dark like they did. Robin II made it especially easy to let fondness bleed out of the city’s dirty criminal underbelly from time to time.

He was a good kid.

He deserved better.

Better than the silence and peace he should be granted in death to be marred by the mad cackles of his killer still running around alive and unpunished. Better than his father giving up, returning to the same old routine as if nothing had happened at all. Better than the Bat snatching up a new bird less than a year later.

Gotham and her Rogues had given the Bat time enough to do what needed to be done.

It was their turn.

[hyperblue]

kon-el "conner" kent, doing an interview for gotham gazette about his relationship with tim while wearing the "im not the step dad, im the dad that stepped up" t-shirt

[veinsfullofstars]

what happened with the ghost pepper fiasco???? 👀

—✨

Oh, you know. Just the Bad Decision Duo making some bad decisions in the name of one-upmanship. Like always.

One very brief pepper-eating contest later…

They end up bedridden for a whole week after that, and grounded by their horrified parents for even longer. Doesn't stop Bow from bragging about the win, though, even into the present day. Dedede tries his very best to pretend it never happened (and steers clear of ghost peppers from then on).

**Suffice to say, they are dummies, and children, and fictional characters. It should go without saying, of course, but please do not try this at home.**

Sketch started 06/29/24, finished 07/01/24.

[iennoganan-aha]

This au idea wormed it’s way into my brain and it won’t go away 💀💀

Au where like, scott and Eric grew up as brothers or something idk,

I imagine Scott is a decently good older brother, but also not really, kinda a douchebag, he doesn’t want to hang out with his brother and his 4th grade Friends as an almighty 9th grader.

I think cartman would totally be a clingy younger brother, I feel it in my soul.

In this au, Scott lives with Liane and Eric, and has Eric's whole life, they're always been brothers.

I imagine Jack Tenermon left Liane one night, around when Eric was born (so Scott was like 6) and never came back. Scott really wants to find him again, and so does Eric (to get payback for leaving their mom)

So the jack tenermon chilli incident probably still happens, just intentionally this time, and as like, payback for leaving their mom or something,

Scott was very upset :(

Idk man, I don't want to make a whole story out of this, it's just for silly doodles of Cartman with some positive attention in his life. Idk maybe because he had Scott growing up he isn't as big of a shithead who knows.

Don't repost to other cities please!

[eugeneplace]

Little question: Do you plan to do more Branch art as a single father? I loved the AU

Oh yeah, yeah! Sorry, WDT is very um... demanding. But I haven't abandoned any of my other Aus! This one in particular is in a process of ✨Glow Up✨

Here, a little sneak peek

I wanted him to look more like Grandma Rosiepuff, that's why his hair is tied in a bun. Oh! And I had an idea! I'm gonna make Branch's child be the result of a one-night stand with [redacted]

[jollmaster]

momma's boy

[stellocchia]

The idea of Cross, Dust and Horror somehow being the kids in Killer's and Nightmare's divorce despite all being grown ass men is really funny to me. But wanna know what's funnier?

Killer having to introduce them to Color and Delta like a parent would with new partners. He's gotta be slow with it and still at first those three are gonne pick fights.

Dust doesn't even use their names. He calls them "Killer's partner number one and two".

Cross has at least once yelled at Color "You're not my dad!" and then promptly remembered who his dad actually is, cringed, and added "Actually...". (Color is nowhere close but that's why the insult works).

Horror just convinces them that he's mute and only uses a completely made-up sign language that Dust and Cross only pretend to understand. (He does go nonverbal rather often and they do all know sign language, but he's making shit up specifically to fuck with them).

They're petty menaces and they literally have no reason to be. Also, to be clear, none of them consider Killer their parent. That guy has no parental energy whatsoever. This is just as much about messing with him as it is about messing with Delta and Color

[baiuzensenn]

In my grid family au theory, Oscar was gave birth by SebMark, Liam was adopted by Lestappen (real parents were still SebMark probably) while Ollie was the son of SebChal and because of Seb’s long term absence and Max addicted to iRacing now Charles took the parental responsibility to take care all of them (adding Leo).

[myfckingnameisnuwanda]

Yinyin, Glase and Kon always fall asleep pretty fast. Kori, on the other side...

Ben is so tired. He has help as a hero from Gwen and Kevin, and help with school from Julie and his parents, but who helps him raise his children, when they are a secret he can't bring himself to let go?

This is set in my Snowflakes AU, where four of the Necrofriggian children come back to earth a few days after "Save the Last Dance". Ben decides to tell no one, for a series of reasons, and suffers in silence while he tries to care for them.

Their names all mean "Ice" in different languages (Yinyin: Yoruba, Glase: Lingala, Kon: Lao and Kori: Japanese)

Being a single parent is no joy ride. And at fifteen years old, with four kids, I imagine it cannot be any easier.

[tennessoui]

Regency AU!!! anakin hoarding little things he bought for obi-wan and finally getting to give them to him!! its so sweet and fluffy! I'd love to know just how disappointed all the other omegas in town were when anakin stepped out with obi-wan on his arm.

All the mamas of the eligible omegas take one look at the way anakin skywalker looks at obi-wan as he goes literally anywhere and the smart ones tell their children to focus on more available prospects, like a minor prince. an earl. Etc. The duke is not going to truly be entertaining prospects this season.

but the smarter mamas split their efforts between making potential matches for their own children and finding matches for obi-wan because maybe if this obi-wan kenobi finds his match and marriage, then the duke Skywalker will be more willing to consider their children to be his match. It’s a bit underhanded but one has to do what one has to do. and throwing alphas at kenobi until one sticks is what one has to do.

(of course they also have to be very clandestine about it because it would do their daughters and sons no good for anakin to find out that it was them that found obi-wan’s match. they know they may get kicked out of high society all together for it. the stakes are high.)

[deunmiu-dessie]

(unedited) widowedfather!simon remembers you. [ one, two ]

he seemed lost, but not in the sense of having lost his way; no, more like he was lost on what to do with himself, with his child. you had noticed that about him the moment you spotted him in the grocery store, standing in the formula aisle.

cradled in his strong arms he held a tiny infant, a baby girl you had realized— and she was wailing, it was loud but familiar; relatable. his furrowed brow and hesitant movements betrayed his lack of confidence, as if he were treading unfamiliar territory. it was as if he was grappling with the weight of the world, unsure of how to provide for this tiny life that now depended on him.

even now he seemed lost, this time in the sense of belonging— after all, he stood out as a towering figure amidst a sea of mothers, with his daughter securely strapped to his chest and his arm tightly clutching her for added reassurance. his broad shoulders and strong presence seemed out of place in this gathering of nurturing figures, and his demeanor hinted at an underlying unease, you could tell that he was anxious, and questioning.

you couldn't help but watch briefly as he observed the other parents chatting animatedly, before lifting from your spot in front of the class, and padding your way over to him, just before he could talk himself out of leaving. this would be good for him, for her.

“we meet again.”

his eyes, brown like deep pools of melted milk chocolate, met yours and lit up with recognition as your warm gaze enveloped him. a subtle change washed over the man, the tension that had once resided in his features began to melt away, replaced by a sense of ease and comfort, though the respite was subtle, it was evident in the way his shoulders sagged, the lines on his forehead softened.

you smile warmly at the baby, softly cooing as you extend your finger towards her, laughing as she latches onto it immediately. finding his gaze again you flash a grin. “welcome to baby & me, i’ll be leading today's session."

you hold your hand out to him, tilting your head slightly. his voice is deep, rough, gravelly, and accented. you can't help but feel a bit surprised for a moment, especially when his grip on your hand remains as gentle as ever. it’s the contrast between his rugged appearance and his gentle touch; weathered hands, adorned with calluses and scars, that makes your head spin.

“simon.”

you flash a smile as you position yourself beside him, gently placing your hand on his arm to guide him toward an empty seat. “i’m happy that you two are here, simon. now let me get you seated before i begin class, hm?”

[bonefall]

Do you think Windclan would have their camp in said ruins? It would be an interesting place for them to set down, though I can imagine that they probably wouldn’t seeing as how they’re clearly a human place and the cats are very much traumatized by humans, so it might be seen as a bad omen to even go near them

I heavily considered it, but ultimately yeah, no, Clan cats would be waaay too traumatized by human structures to repurpose one.

Additionally, I'm positive that the area would get semi-frequent human visitors. Horseback riding and dog-walking is probably banned in that area (both to preserve the heathland and to protect the Clan cats later) but in their TNP exploration, WindClan would find a lot of stale human scent and consider the site "not totally abandoned."

Harepaw, Heatherpaw, and Breezepaw probably hang out there a lot in secret, though. It's the Scary Forbidden Place you can sneak off to when you don't want to be bothered by adults.

[dolliedarlin]

DADA! | ONE ⏤Denki K.

BAKUSQUAD ENDEARMENT SERIES PART 3 : DENKI KAMINARI 

SUM. :  it was supposed to be more than a one night stand and a great weekend spent together; there was a connection, the time spent together was special...so why did it all just stop? 

PAIR. : Denki Kaminari x Single Mother Reader

LENGTH : 3.7k

G. : misunderstandings ; so much misunderstanding! ; unnecessary suffering on both sides ; single parent au ; single mother reader ; father kaminari ; but he doesn’t know that yet ; prohero au ; timeskip au ; angst for now ; slight fluff ; new beginnings? ; kirishima is a good friend ; kaminari is going through some stuff ; mutual longing

A/N : sorry it took so long to put this out, i really didn’t like the first several drafts of it and the plot arc needed a lot of tweaking. this is also just the start so it’s a bit short but there’s a lot to come, i promise! enjoy the read, dolls! all my love x

New beginnings need an equally new environment so that the pristine setting can sufficiently accommodate your grave yearning for a clean slate. It’s only been a few days but there’s a particular type of comfort that comes with living in a new place. Not only that, it saves you from ever remembering the once happy and now bitter memories held in your old home. 

It’s silly, really.   

To think that you would move houses just to keep from being reminded of the magical night and weekend you spent with a certain electrifying prohero. Nevertheless, here you are, fully moved into a recently available penthouse apartment and with a noticeable bump in your tummy as you were already in your second trimester. 

You can be rightfully bitter towards the man responsible for your current lonely circumstance but knowing that you would soon have such a precious gift to centre your new life around was enough motivation for you to keep going. 

You’re capable of letting a man go but not your baby. 

Despite having a new backdrop in your everyday life, oftentimes, when you have an absent pause to think about random things occurring at that moment, you fall victim to those same sweetly haunting memories. Underlined by a warm gentleness that tries to comfort you in spite of the hollowed emptiness it carves into your chest, leaving you to ache for the missing piece that slipped through your fingers. On your lips is a small, heavy smile and brows are stitched up and furrowed tightly; it’s a perfect illustration of your consistent internal conflict. 

That weekend was such a complicated and jumbled mix of emotions and experiences. It felt as if you had lived through an entire high school romance with this man in the span of only 2 days. He had made such good love to you and didn’t stop, even outside bedroom activities. After such a deeply passionate and heated few hours, he spent equally as much time, if not more, cherishing you and worshipping your entire being, not just your body. He made you laugh so hard that, at times, you cried. And the rest of your time spent together, he made you feel so loved, your heart ached with a longing that made you question why you hadn’t met him sooner. 

Those two blissful days were spent away from all outside sources, your phones tucked away and silent, leaving the two of you to immerse yourselves in your own secluded world - a paradise only meant for you two. Sometimes, he cooked for you and sometimes you cooked for him. His dishes were a rather poor and sad attempt but seeing the determination in his gaze over the stovetop made the food taste better than any gourmet restaurant dish you have ever indulged in. He serenaded you over karaoke, cuddled you close through ghibli films and never stopped peppering you with kisses and affectionate nuzzles. He was childish and handsome and a dream to be with. 

Those two blissful days were spent away from all outside sources, your phones tucked away and silent, leaving the two of you to immerse yourselves in your own secluded world - a paradise only meant for you two. Sometimes, he cooked for you and sometimes you cooked for him. His dishes were a rather poor and sad attempt but seeing the determination in his gaze over the stovetop made the food taste better than any gourmet restaurant dish you have ever indulged in. He serenaded you over karaoke, cuddled you close through ghibli films and never stopped peppering you with kisses and affectionate nuzzles. He was childish and handsome and a dream to be with. 

God! You were so in love! So deeply in love with him.  

He wasn’t like any other guy that had tried to court you before and, even though you were now in such a miserable situation, you could never bring yourself to regret going to the charity gala or spending the following weekend with him. 

If only he didn’t break your heart so cruelly. 

Was it all an act? 

You didn’t want to believe it but what other option was there for you? The only person who could possibly ease the turmoil in your head and chest was not there to do so. 

You vividly remember the Monday morning you saw him last as you were rushing to work. It was the first time you were ever late to attend a meeting with an important and recurring client… 

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“I’m sorry to be in such a rush like this, Denki,” you apologised, downing your coffee and regretting it the instant your tongue blistered up from its hot temperature. 

“No worries, beautiful,” he stands from his seat at the island counter, “I’ll be heading to work soon enough as well,” he pulls you in by the waist and passionately locks you in a deep kiss, one that you never wanted to pull away from.

“Here’s my number, please call me soon,” you pant from the zealous kiss, hurriedly scribbling down your digits on a sticky note and rushing off, “feel free to leave whenever and don’t worry about locking the door on your way out, the housekeeper will do it; i already messaged them! Goodbye!”

‘I love you!’ it was on the tip of your tongue but you hesitated- 

“Will do! I love you babe! Take care!” 

Smiling bitterly at the memory, you clenched your hands into tight fists beside you and dug your nails into your palm, why did he say that when he never intended to keep his word? 

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!

Saved from your gradually drowning mind, you rush to the door, your hand instinctively placed on your belly as you open it to reveal a woman and a little girl with cute blonde hair ribboned up into adorable twin pigtails. 

“Why hello there,” you coo softly at the adorable little girl rocking back and forth on her heels, “what brings you two here?” you smile at the two. 

“Good morning, I hope we’re not disturbing you. I’m Yua and this is Katsumi, we saw you move in last week and Katsumi here wanted to gift you something,” both you and Yua turn to the little girl as she bounces up with her arms raised at you. In her small hands, she held a prettily wrapped gift with a lace ribbon to tie it together. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you two, I’m (Y/N). Thank you so much, Katsumi, for your very kind gesture,” offering up two open palms for her to place her gift into, which she promptly did with a widened smile.

“You’re welcome! I hope you find it yummy!” At her comment, you bring the gift to your nose and take in the sweet smell of baked goods. 

“It smells divine; it must be very good!” you smile widely and giggle when Katsumi cheers happily. 

“Take good care of your place, it was mine and daddy’s old home,” 

“Oh?” you raise a brow, gently prompting her to elaborate. 

“Daddy and I moved into Mommy’s place now so we can see each other every day, hehehe~” you look up at Yua, who smiles bashfully. In your head, you can piece together their story and feel a warmth bloom in your chest. What a cute little family. 

“I’ll make sure to take good care of your old home, Katsumi, thank you for the present,” you bend down to gently pat her head, lifting your spare hand off your pregnant belly in order to do so. 

“Oh! Congratulations!” Yua voices in excitement, finally noticing your pregnancy as you straighten up and feel your cheeks get warm. 

“Th-thank you,”

“Oh? Did something special happen?”

You share a smile with Yua at Katsumi’s comment before explaining, “I’m expecting a baby and I have four more months to go,”

“Oh!” Katsumi’s pretty ruby eyes sparkle with interest and you have to suppress a giggle, “Is your baby gonna be a boy or a girl like me?”

“It would be wonderful to have a sweet little girl like you Katsumi-chan but I’m having a little boy instead,” feeling that the conversation will go for longer than you expected, you gesture for them to come in and sit in the living room. Happy to oblige, they take up room on your sofa as you go about plating the baked goodies you were gifted. Yua had promptly offered to help but you waved her off gently with a smile. Despite being 5 months along, you can still do this much. 

“Like Ren!”

“Who’s Ren?” you ask curiously, centering the plated cookies and hand out complimentary glasses of milk. Naturally, Katsumi digs in as soon as she’s given the chance to as Yua reddies a napkin to wipe at her messy cheeks. A very cute mother and daughter pair. 

“He’s my best friend! He’s super nice! You’ll like him too!” Katsumi says through a mouthful of cookies that she washes down with big gulps of her milk. 

“Then I’m sure I will like him instantly, any friend of yours is a friend of mine,” you smile as Yua offers Katsumi her glass of milk as the little girl had already finished hers.

“That reminds me!” Yua claps her hands together and smiles in delight, “Akina, Ren’s mother, is also pregnant, I think you’re further along than she is but we should all get together for lunch or something,”  

“Oh? That might be nice, I have nothing better to do so making a new pregnant friend might do me some good, especially since this is my first pregnancy,” you giggle as Yua joins you. 

“That’s perfect! It’ll be Akina’s second pregnancy so I’m sure she can help you out if you need some advice. I’ll try to get everyone together soon! Can I have your number?”

“Of course!” you’re so happy for the companionship, even though your family supports you, they live far away and have their own lives to worry about. You weren’t openly judged by them but your family largely lives off the philosophy of independence, a concept you hate but are somewhat grateful for as it’s led to your success. It’s only when you finally realise how lonely you’ve become that you despise the teachings of your family. For your baby, you will live differently and with more love and affection; the first step towards that will be having a stable friendship group. Yua hands over her phone with a new contact page open, you’re quick to type in your contact details, there is a pause however as you realise you’re typing your work contact and pause to remember your personal number instead. Flushing at the embarrassing delay, you hand back Yua’s phone with haste.

“When will you be free?” Yua asks as she tucks her phone away, the two of you leaving Katsumi to devour the gift she made for you; you didn’t mind, just seeing her eat made you feel full. 

“I’d be happy to meet up tomorrow, I’ve been feeling kind of lonely,” you bashfully admit as Yua gives you a warm smile. 

“That sounds perfect! I know I’m available tomorrow and I’m pretty sure Akina is too but I’ll have to double check. Do you have a favourite dessert or common pregnancy craving? I can bake us something nice to share,” 

You ponder for a moment and shrug, “Anything sweet will do it for me,” the comment makes Yua laugh and nod in understanding. 

“I’m sure I can whip something up then,” Yua then turns to the contentedly smiling little girl beside her, who mercilessly consumed half the chunky cookies she had brought over, “Katsumi it’s time to go, cupcake,”

“Okay! Thank you for having us over and for sharing your cookies with us miss (Y/N)!” She grins brightly with crumbs all over her mouth and cheeks and you have to resist reaching forward to squish them between your fingers, mentally thanking Yua for interrupting your urges by wiping at her messy appearance once more. 

“It’s no problem, sweetie, please come over again soon, I already love having you as company,” the praise makes her nose turn up slightly as she hums in self-gratification. Katsumi had, at first, been worried that you may be like all the horrible women chasing after her father but she was glad her mom encouraged her to be a good neighbour first; you’re a really nice lady and you’re already good friends with her mom so that’s extra good points in your favour.

“And if you need anything at all, we’re right next door so please give us a shout,” Yua offers, “Katsuki says pregnancy is as tough as being a prohero and always offers to help Akina and Eijiro whenever they need him, so we happily extend the same courtesy to you,”

“Thank you so much!‘ you beam happily, incredibly grateful for their selflessness. If only your own family was this openly supportive and kind. 

With a warm goodbye and promise to meet again soon, you see your two new friends out and return to finally enjoy your first cookie. Humming is content, you sigh from bliss. Such a sweet taste. 

“You’re really off your game, Denki, you need to sort out whatever it is that’s throwing you off. It’s becoming a danger to everyone on the field,” Kirishima comments as the two sit in opposite hospital beds with bandages covering their unnecessarily sustained injuries. 

“I-I’m sorry man…” Kaminari sighs in exasperation, seated at the edge of his bed with his hands grabbing at his blonde hair as he leans forward. The shame swirling within him force his eyes and face away from his close friend and teammate’s eyes, “I just can’t get her out of my head…how could she do that to me?” the blonde begins to ramble as his red-headed friend looks on at him in sympathy, “Give me a non-existent number? Did she not want to keep in contact after all? I’ve dated many girls trying to settle down and I thought she was the one! She’s everything I could ever want in a girl! Beautiful, kind, smart, funny, put together! She actually laughs at my silly jokes, and she has the most beautiful laugh too…” Kaminari smiles and falls back with a dreamy sigh, “She has me on a leash and I want to love her with my everything but instead she plays such a cruel joke on me,” he almost sobs at his miserable reality, “I can take rejection, I’ve had to go through so many already but this…this was too much…she knows I love her, why would she do that to me?”

“Look man…” Kirishima rubs the back of his neck, deep in thought and concern for one of his closest friends, “I don’t know…how can you say you love someone after just one weekend with them?”

“I just do, okay?!” Kaminari snaps, sitting up to glare at his friend, “I love her and that’s not going to change! Don’t try to convince me otherwise, I know we did things backwards but I would do anything for her. She’s not like those other girls, I can see right through them, they’re pretty but (Y/N) is beautiful. They’re sweet but (Y/N) is kind and gentle and loving and funny and charming and mean, in the best way! She makes it so easy to love her. If I could, I would give her the world…” The frustration and sadness coursing through him brings about a static to surround Kaminari’s frame, charging the surrounding metals momentarily. 

“Have you tried going to her place?”

“I did but I was too late! She was never there when I went to visit and the last time I went, the gardeners working on the estate told me she had moved out! I spent the best, most blissful two days of my life in that house and she just left it!” Kaminari feels the prickling of tears surface as he breaks down, the heartbreak suffocating him and making it unbearable to even exist. Unable to look at his friend’s broken down state much longer, Kirishima steps forward and pulls the blonde up into a standing hug. 

“Why don’t you take a break from hero work, at least? Clearly you need time to think and get yourself together, it’s better you do that away from villains who could cause you and others harm,” Kirishima advises with gentle comforting pats on his best friend’s back. 

“...m-maybe you’re right,” Kaminari sighs, the emotional exhaustion evident in his droopy eyes and slouching figure, “look man, I’m sorry for being such a bum…I know you and Akina are expecting and that’s great news I just-...I’m sorry for making this all about my shitty love life,”

“Think nothing of it, Akina’s more worried about cooking for and feeding you herself; she says you’ve lost too much weight these past couple of months and insists on cooking extra portions so that I can bring it over to you. Just get those muscles back and stop worrying about my pregnant wife, okay?…” a scary look begins to cross over Kirishima’s face as he looks down at his blonde friend and colleague, “Because we all know how bad stress is for the baby, right?” Despite Kirishima’s grinning face, Kaminari felt a shiver run down his spine and nods frantically. 

“Yeah yeah! Of course, man! Sorry about that!”

When Kaminari had work, at least he was minorly distracted before his mind wandered off to you. Now that he's on leave for ‘mental wellbeing’, as he’s submitted it, he has nothing to distract him and so his mind is always wandering off to the time you two spent together. What bliss. If heaven was a time and place on earth, it would be those two euphoric days. 

The first time he saw you, you made his heart stop beating and when you flashed him an innocent smile, the surroundings blurred around him, making you the sole focus of his stare. In that one moment, he already knew that he had to make you his and himself yours. So he approached you, nervous as could be but after the introductory ‘hello’s, conversation flowed smoothly, better than smoothly, in fact. It was as if the two of you had spent all your lives together as close friends and were catching up on things after some time spent apart. You shared laughs and got closer and closer until eventually, the two of you were leaving the venue together and spending the night and weekend at your place. 

The night of the gala didn’t end with just amorous, fiery sex, there was also a lot of affectionate aftercare, timid kisses and pillow talk that ranged from deeply meaningful chatter to musings of the most irrelevant things.

That was the most memorable weekend of Kaminari’s life. 

He never cooks for anyone, primarily because he knows that he’s horrible at it but he did his best to cook you breakfast the following morning and you didn’t berate his cooking skills at all, you just sat down and ate it with a smile on your face. Kaminari never thought you could become even more beautiful but he was wrong. Was it your quirk? A quirk that charms others and makes them submit to you? If so he’d happily be the one to fall for your charm. 

Your time together felt like you were just two normal people in love. He wasn’t a prohero with expectations and responsibilities and you weren’t… He sighs, realising, once again, that he never asked you what you did. Not that it mattered to him, the connection you two shared, the spark that became a flame and continues to burn within him even now, was what truly mattered. It was so easy to get lost in one another and forget about the rest of the world when it was just the two of you that weekend. His one regret was that, it’s now so difficult to find you himself other than the few things he does know. 

Everything hurts now but Kaminari doesn’t regret spending that weekend with you. He will never regret loving and being loved by you no matter how much it hurts him to think about it.

Back from his mental health break, Kaminari is on patrol once again. His time spent away helped him centre himself and better handle his thoughts atop doing his hero work but he still can’t stop thinking about you. It’s never going to be easy forgetting someone who he felt destined to meet. 

Today he was patrolling a relatively calm district just to ease into the work day. The morning was quiet and peaceful, some fans politely held conversation with him and took some photos every once in a while but it mainly remained serene until a swarming crowd apprehends his attention as he nears the exit point of the park he had been walking through. The mob’s violent movement as an angry horde of bodies made a scowl form on his face, their demanding shouts for answers weren’t hard to miss nor were their flash photography. Paparazzi, the lowest of all scum.  

[s0uth3park]

When Gerald says “Come on in, boys” and then Randy and Stuart enter I audibly shrieked. I dunno — something about the dads all getting together really speaks to me. I love it: we need more of it.

Also shame on the episode for not having Liane there too, but seeing as how this season has progressed and with how she’s finally done with Cartman, I can see why she’s not.