#tw: child care

[mamayan]

Okay imagine this - (you don't have to do it, you can delete this if it makes you uncomfy, I love you and you have done nothing wrong ever) - but IMAGINE okay?

Bakugo Katsuki, The Dynamight, number two hero, and his child with you is quirkless (bonus if reader is also quirkless)

Imagine the disappointed ambition - he was so sure the kid would inherit his quirk or something similar, he was so sure - especially since the kid looks like Katsuki - and yet...

I guess I'm in mood for hurt-comfort 😔

Honestly, I see this affecting our dearest mama here, as it’s likely for Katsuki to really fall for someone after being a bully/jerk to them.

Imagine his quirkless sweetheart, desperate to please and impress at all times because they’re just useless without a quirk (thanks to his bullying in the past) and realizing their child inherited their quirkless gene?

Pro-Hero Katsuki Bakugo x Quirkless Fem! Reader!

Growing Pains

cw: SFW • Language (R) • Hurt/Comfort • Bully to Lovers • Child Care (tis the season) • Pro-Hero Katsuki • Fem! Reader • Marriage • Katsuki learns how to communicate a little better

A child is a gift so precious one must always be careful never to forsake it.

That’s what his hag-mother always said at least. The endless joy though which his daughter brought truly lived up to her words though. A gift. A precious, incredibly tiny and fragile, gift he swore to never forsake as he held the bundle in his arms at the hospital.

You looked beautiful even after so long in labor. Joy painting your features and making his heart ache from the sugar being injected into his veins. The love and adoration in your eyes only making his resolve harden further, to protect you both and love you two till his last breath.

So what changed from that moment till now? As a normally happy rambunctious toddler sits in complete stillness with eyes wide in horror. You didn’t look any better, skin perspiration more than his own on a usual day, lip being chewed until the skin breaks and he’s forced to grip you tightly.

“Hey—,” his gruff voice wakes you up.

“I’m so sorry…” his brows furrow in confusion, your apology unexpected and odd.

“The fuck are you sorry for?” He feels the atmosphere in the room start to divulge, his child and you both acting as if you’d heard a cancer diagnosis and not something he’d already considered the possibility of. Of course he’d wanted his daughter to have a quirk, but it didn’t call for such a grave reaction.

“It’s all my fault… I’m so sorry baby…” the tears freak him out more, your tears flowing endlessly as you stare at him with such hopeless eyes he’s startled to his core. Dark garnet eyes widening as a sick feeling enters his gut, something churning he can’t even name. “I failed both you and our daughter, making her weak and worthless like me—,” He’s going to be sick for sure, the sterile little clinic room starting close in on him.

He’s Dynamight, number 2 pro hero, and only because shit for brains Deku was better with the media but still, he’s not sure what to do. How to fix it, as you hold your child and cry, asking for forgiveness from him.

It makes him remember every instance of the past he cringes and does his best to avoid thinking on. Every tug of your hair, every shove to the floor, every time he made you feel small for something so superficial as not having a quirk.

Your tears were endless, and they seemed to spur on his daughter as well, her little sniffles making him nearly enraged as the door creeks open at the worst moment and the doctor returns.

The woman’s sympathetic gaze make him want to punch her, the way she seems understanding and not offended as himself.

“It can be a hard acceptance Mrs. Bakugo, I’m happy to recommend some quirkless support groups for the two of you, then we can look at some family care plans—,”

“What. The. Fuck. Are you talking about? Support group? They don’t need a fucking support group, your raggedy ass bitch—!”

“Katsuki!” “Mr. Bakugo?!” “Papa?”

It didn’t matter, he wasn’t hearing words anymore, top blown and his tempter unleashed as he nearly blows the door off after throwing you both over his shoulder and storming out. Cursing the entire way, uncaring of the phones being pulled out and people whispering and recording. He’d get an earful from the agency but it hardly computed in his mind.

Your fault? It seemed clear enough it was his fault. When all he ever did was make you feel belittled for your quirklessness, small and weak because of it, and now what did it do?

It passed on to his own fucking kid. His fault. This was his fucking fault.

His own eyes were admittedly wet as he shuts you both up in the car. Making sure you both are buckled in safely before he nearly screams once he’s seated behind the wheel. He wants to scream more, yell and break something to deal with the flood of guilt and shame washing him like an old friend.

He never apologized, only pushed it all away like the bullying and harassment never occurred when he started courting you. He’d been in love with you, and that bullying was his sick revenge for making him feel so much adoration for a single individual.

His frame engulfs the seat, muscles taunt and wide chest heaving as he calms down slowly to your silent tears and wobbly bottom lip.

“Katsuki… can we not have any discussions with her in the car…? Maybe we…,” you lick your lips as you fumble over yourself like a nervous wreck in the passenger seat, eyes wide and pacifying as you give him a look filled with a plea. “—Maybe we could have her stay with your mother tonight?”

Because you think he’s angry at you and at her.

For being quirkless.

The most defenseless and precious people to him, the two he’d sworn to never hurt or mistreat, now looking at him with complete devastation and heartbreak. His daughter is never usually so silent and still, sitting like a little doll in her car seat.

He’d always been a confident man. Unshakeable and firm in his resolve because he refused to settle and let himself be anything less than the best.

For all he is though, he’s never felt more helpless and human.

You flinch when the first tear falls.

The sight just as jarring as the realization your child is like you.

Katsuki’s eyes widen before narrowing as he grits his teeth and bares them like a hurt animal, tears spilling as he slams his head on the steering wheel in frustration. The windows tinted and thankfully adding a touch of privacy he’s grateful for now.

“I’m sorry—!” It’s wobbly and hissed like a curse, his apology burning his throat as he forces it out. He can’t look at you as he wipes at his face, shaking his head as he clears it to focus long enough to repeat himself.

“I’m so fucking sorry—never, never did I think less of you ‘cuz you didn’t have a damn quirk—! I was an asshole, a piece of shit that didn’t know how to deal with my crush on you, so I fucking ruined it by picking on you.” His eyes are blood shot, kept wide to prevent anymore liquid spillage but the way his entire face and body scrunch up, it’s difficult to believe he’s able to stop himself on sheer will alone.

“Papa…?” It’s like a slap to the face when he looks over at his daughter to see a spitting image of you both in her, features more like him but personality following you in a way that makes him melt.

“Y’listen good,” he gathers himself up better as he addresses your daughter now. “You will never be less than anyone else, quirk or no quirk, y’hear me?”

“But—,”

“No buts. It’s not up for debate. A quirk doesn’t classify a person’s value. It never has. We just associate them with power when in fact, a bunch of useless quirk havin’ shit stains run the country. A quirk ain’t power kid, power is in will, and that’s all you.” He’s glad you kindly dismiss his slip in language, watching as her little eyes widen and well with tears too.

“So I’m not bad?”

“You’re the best damn thing that’s happened since I met your mom. I love your mom, don’t I? She’s great even if she doesn’t have a quirk. Strong and resilient, patient and smarter than I’ll ever be.” He’s gripping the steering wheel so tight it may break soon if he doesn’t release his grip.

Then he’s being met with you. Your arms wrapping around him, your own muffled cries in his shirt. His hands are around you just as quickly, pulling you into him as much as the small space in the vehicle allows, breathing you in and calming himself as he reaches out and unbuckles your daughter to pull her little body into the bear hug too.

“You mean it…?” Your whisper barely audible as he holds you both close.

“I don’t say shit I don’t mean.”

And that’s enough for this moment. While he’s not a great man, Katsuki truly never lies, sometimes honest to a point it’s painful.

This is a bittersweet pain though.

Dividers/ @cafekitsune

[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

Eldritch/not-entirely-human Grunkle Stan stories have been eating away at my brain, so I have a silly little concept of Mimic!Stan.

He and his Mystery Shack are both mimics that lure tourists in as a literal "tourist trap" to gather and devour them! Since the house is alive, it raises a few (read: several) child safety concerns that lead to a LOT of rules to be created for Dipper and Mabel to follow when they eventually arrive, such as:

Be careful not to get lost in the winding hallways! The Mystery Shack is bigger on the inside, and you don't want to end up in the wrong areas.

Don't go through randomly appearing doors, they may eat you.

If you think you feel the walls around you breathing and the floor beneath you shifting, no, you don't.

If you think the walls feel a bit damp, you're imagining it.

Watch your fingers around windowsills! You wouldn't want to lose any of them.

Don't linger too long under the doorframes; it may start feeling like they are slowly constricting around you.

[ed-recoverry]

Shoutout to everyone whose abuser(s) were never punished.

Shoutout to everyone whose abuser is living a normal life.

Shoutout to everyone whose allegations were immediately dismissed.

Shoutout to everyone reported their abuser to the police and nothing happened.

Shoutout to everyone whose abuser was able to get out of significant legal punishment.

Shoutout to everyone whose abuser is generally seen as a good person.

Shoutout to everyone whose abuser is a “pillar of the community.”

Shoutout to everyone whose abuser has lied about you.

Shoutout to everyone whose abuser has framed them.

Shoutout to everyone whose abuser threatened them into silence.

Shoutout to everyone whose abuser discouraged them from reporting.

Shoutout to everyone who lost friends after reporting and or exposing their abuser.

Shoutout to everyone who lost family after reporting and or exposing their abuser.

Shoutout to everyone who received backlash for reporting and or exposing their abuser.

Shoutout to everyone who has created a rift in their family or friends by reporting or exposing their abuser.

Shoutout to everyone who is terrified to tell anyone about their abuser.

Shoutout to everyone who never had the opportunity to talk about their abuser.

Shoutout to everyone who feels like talking about their abuser is worthless.

Shoutout to everyone whose case was dismissed by the court.

Shoutout to everyone who faced backlash after their abuser was put in jail.

Shoutout to everyone who faced backlash for testifying against their abuser.

Shoutout to everyone who still has yet to be believed that they were abused.

Shoutout to everyone who knows their abuser will never be punished.

Shoutout to everyone who knows their abuser will never face backlash.

Shoutout to everyone who knows their story will be dismissed by loved ones.

Shoutout to everyone who spoke out about their abuser, but wasn’t believed until something happened to someone else.

Shoutout to everyone who spoke out about their abuser and wasn’t believed until they seriously harmed you.

Shoutout to everyone who has been mocked for trying to speak out about their abuser.

Shoutout to everyone who has faced social repercussions for speaking out or exposing their abuser.

Shoutout to everyone who has suffered financially for speaking out or exposing their abuser.

Shoutout to everyone whose abuser has admitted guilt, but never faced justice.

Shoutout to everyone who knows they were abused and are punished for it.

[pain-is-my-game]

Parents really do traumatize you and then force you to reparent yourself instead of being a capable human being who can contribute to society like a normal person. Sorry I can't get a well paying job right now I'm trying to learn coping mechanisms.

[arachnestwilight]

Sorry for putting Hetalia on your dashboard in 2024, but this has been vaguely on my mind for, like, five years.

[blackoutbugza]

quick! show me your design for one of the sides as kids!

i’ll go first :)

[loveyourlovelysoul]

Sometimes we desire a relationship cause we think we may heal everything about us through it. We think the other person has all the answers for us, and will solve our own puzzle. Truth is, the other person is just another person exactly like us, with their own issues and life to live, and we cannot expect them to heal us too. We can surely ask for help, for support, as we can give ours to them, but... most of the work is still up to us. We need to do our part: we need to come closer to them too, to compromise (on what we can), to stand our ground too when necessary, and to be fair, vulnerable and open. No matter what we learned in our childhood (very likely when we had to take care of our emotionally unstable/immature caregivers), we cannot have someone else doing all the job for us. No matter how much we want to feel less alone, we also need to give others the chance to get inside of our world. We need to let down some walls in order for this to happen for real. We need to learn to trust again (and trust that we're strong enough to survive if by any chance the other will leave us -it doesn't have to be our fault anyway, it can be just life).

[yangjeongin]

HYUNJIN | 221231 • TASTE @ MBC GAYO DAEJEJEON

[chocobosdungeon2]

this is hands down the worst thing ive ever made but their similarities (and differences) have been rattling around in my head

[idiot-mushroom]

hey have you ever had that moment of when your youngest sibling does a prank on an adult in your house and that adult says horrible things to your baby sibling telling them that they’re an abuser so you step in and tell the adult to quit it only for them to gaslight you into thinking that your a disrespectful brat the next day so you stop talking until someone makes you talk about your feelings in which that person goes to tell the shitty adult to stop being mean only for the shitty adult to say that they’re conspiring against them and that they’re the victim?

me neither bc that would be so super specific and weird and-

[theloveinc]

act i scene i: older, childless, bachelor Barbarian!Bakugo finds you six months pregnant hiding in an empty stable during one of his clan raids--and instead of slaughtering you as a much younger him might've done...he throws you onto his cart of treasures and decides to take you home so he can start the family he never had with you and your child as his bride and baby.

[mamayan]

This is just some brain thought I had after reading your latest delicious creation of the baby trapping yan. But why aren’t there more stories or at least short hc lists of what life is like post preg with a yan? I wanna know what the child/s think of their family dynamic of yan and spouse. Does the child/s end up normal? Do they end up platonic yan for non yan parent? Is child/s relationship with yan good? Is it bad? I just feel like it’s such an untapped market for stories and ideas. Cause life still goes on even after the HEA…and having a child/s with yan changes so much of behavioral, situational, etc. of the story compared to pre prego that all the ifs ands buts put so much more on stake. Sorry for tangent. Just needed to get my thoughts out

You got a point Nonnie~

cw: Yandere Themes • Child Care

After Thoughts

“Mama!” Giggles and laughter always fill the space left behind.

Your cheeks hurt from laughter, the sun slowly setting as you curl up with a thin book, hugging the small soft toddler still trying to wiggle out of your arms for another round of chase.

“Papa! Chase! Chase!” Only relenting their struggle as your voice begins the slow fairy tale they know so well.

“Once upon a time there was a princess…” you chuckle at the inside joke, eyes twinkling at they catch his, the satisfaction and pride in his gaze addicting. “She was lonely and lost, until…” you drawl out, finally grasping the small child’s full attention.

“The Prince came! I know mama!” Their happy cheer only encouraging you as you continue the story.

“She was so lonely without the Prince, but she didn’t know her Prince was really her Prince, so she put him through a series of tests.” You turn the page, the warm room filling with the sound of paper moving. “The Prince had to know every detail of the Princess, if he didn’t, how could he be her Prince? So he learned everything. What her favorite food was, favorite color, and even the things she didn’t like.”

“Like brussel sprouts?” Their little nose bunches up, showing their clear dislike for the leafy green.

“Mhm, even that,” you nod, kissing their soft cheek as a weight draped over your shoulders, dragging you both into a solid embrace.

His eyes look cool and calculating at times, confusion occasionally catching you off guard as he directs that icy stare your way, freezing your blood in your veins.

“B-but that’s not all! The Prince loved the Princess so much, he built her a beautiful castle!” You feel the heavy pressure on your shoulders lessen, his arm wrapping more protectively than possessively around you.

Your heart is slow to settle even as you continue the story, until he interrupts.

“The Princess didn’t like the castle right away, even though it had everything she liked.” His deep timbre right next to your ear as you swallow thickly and hug the child tighter, their wide innocent stare clueless and naive.

“Why Papa?”

“Because she didn’t know any better. Sometimes when we don’t know any better, we get scared and make mistakes. That’s okay though, the Prince was very patient, and made sure the Princess understood how dangerous it was outside the castle.”

You stiffen minutely as he traces a small strand of hair off your ear, your eyes vacant as they stare at the corner of the book.

“And they lived happily ever after?” Your toddler asks in such a soft tone, it’s hardly audible.

“Yes” he breathes, teeth carefully pressing into your neck for a quick open mouthed kiss.

“They lived happily ever after in the beautiful castle, having an adorable little baby as proof of their love.” His grin is sharp, canines pronounced as your child chirps with joy and claps in excitement.

You smile, wobbly and weak, as a hand wraps around your neck and forces your head up and back.

His eyes just barely open, a dark amusement in their depths at the glittering tears hanging on your lash line.

Dividers by the lovely @benkeibear

[sh5]

Roy family vacation 1999

[ed-recoverry]

Reminder that no one commits suicide for one reason. If you have had a loved one who threatened to commit suicide if you left and went through with it after you left, that is not on you. There was way more happening that you played no role in. The only thing you can do in a moment when suicide is weaponized is call for help. You are not responsible for how your loved ones cope. Especially at the expense of your safety and well-being.

[pain-is-my-game]

One of the worst realizations that I have ever made is realizing that all I ever wanted was to be loved by my parents. I never would've turned out like this if they just loved me unconditionally.

[furiousgoldfish]

I wrote a very pained, depressive and dark post, even maybe too dark for this blog, but I ultimately decided to publish it, just because this pain has always been invisible in me, and I want to be able to say something. If you're going to read it, there's a lot of mention of death and contemplation of suicide in it, and a lot of painful emotion. Maybe someone will resonate with it and find words to describe their own pain. I also want to note that even though every word of it is true, I am most of the time completely dissociated from this, I'm not actively thinking it, and it came out now because my parents are actively trying to find me and disrupting the life I've tried to make for myself.

What my parents did to me is worse than death, they erased me. When I escaped I didn't know who I was, I had no hope to survive, I didn't think I was worth anything, I felt ashamed to even exist. I was suicidal, i thought I'd be dead within a month even if I don't do it myself. I didn't think I had it in me to survive, to be alive, to be anything. I was a less than a ghost, I didn't even have memories to remember of who I once was because there was no warm memories, only violence, blame, guilt, shame, pain, terror. I was supposed to be a person, and they put me in a state where I knew nothing about being a person, only property and a target, it was my entire life. I was told I deserved this, I was a monster, there was never anything else that is correct to do to me, but hurt me. I thought it was my job to be endlessly harmed. They knew I was suicidal and didn't stop. The only reason I didn't kill myself was the dissociative disorder that functioned like a suicide prevention measure, I physically could not have done it because I have been split into pieces and one of the pieces prevented me from doing it. I would have died otherwise.

What would a quick violent death be compared to this? A fucking blessing. I was slowly tortured until I was willing to kill myself in order to end it. They didn't want to dirty their hands with my murder, they planned on torturing me until I did it to myself. I had an intense drive to survive despite everything, and even that was getting erased. My basic instincts were being erased by the amount of pain I was in. My personality was gone, I didn't even have a personality, it was all overwhelmed by pain and desperation to both survive and end it all, I walked trough life looking death in the face the entire time, it felt so close, so close to me, like it would claim me any second, but I had to stay stoic, calm, me staring down death had to be invisible, I couldn't let it show. It shouldn't have mattered to anyone what I was experiencing. I was torn between life and death, stuck in constant anticipation of it and it couldn't have mattered.

Take a person, any person, imagine them having a life, family, friends, interests, hobbies, desires, dreams, loved ones, support, community. Now imagine that same person isolated, everything stripped away from them, and them being hurt until they can no longer remember anything they wanted to live for. Even their basic instinct to survive is stripped frm them as pain is too large for them to be able to sustain themselves, there's no longer anything in this person's life worth living for, nothing they remember about who they were, no warm thought they can think about themselves, and they're repeatedly told they deserve this, they've wanted this. Until there's nothing of them left.

That was me, but from the start. I didn't get to experience having a life, family, loved ones, interests, dreams, community, or any of that first, I didn't get to know how it was to have any of that! From the very start it was pain and being told that this is all there is, and that I'm stupid for ever thinking there would be anything more to life, that it is in fact, only terror and death and I'm a weakling for not taking it better, everyone else is dealing with this just fine. Shame and guilt were the only traits I could have, I didn't know anything further about me. Nobody knew me because nobody saw me being abused. Nobody could know I was worthless, it had to be my private hell. I would have to live only to the point where it was decided that it was enough and I had to die, or until the point where I couldn't take it anymore and take my own life, even though I so strongly didn't want to, even that basic desire was tempered with and overwritten by pain.

Who would want a life like that? Life of not only being aware that nobody cares about you, but everyone around you is willing to inflict pain on you until you wish to die, but can't. Where crying and screaming is forbidden even when you can't breathe from the amount of pain you're in; you're not even allowed to cry out. You fight with yourself every day on how badly you want to die and why you can't, and it doesn't help, you get lost in magical thinking in order to escape from the hell you're in, but you're brutally reminded of it every time you interact with anyone, when they find you hiding under the bed and dreaming. You don't even know that you're supposed to have loved ones, be safe, be unharmed, that life is supposed to be different, that you're not alive only to be a target, that you're worth anything. You don't even know that you're supposed to have more freedom in life than to choose the manner and time of your death, this is all that's dealt to you. And now, live, see how far you can get before you die. Would anyone choose that? Would anyone decide to be born into a life like that? Wouldn't you choose not to exist at all rather than be put trough that? To be erased and then having to keep on living while thinking you in fact, deserve death, and should do it yourself, and you know if you do die, it won't matter, just like your life didn't? Because people around you regularly nearly kill you and then laugh about it like it was a funny joke? They humiliate you for how ugly you look close to death? You're scared that your last moment will be humiliation for how unseemly your corpse looks and you're hoping you'd be able to die alone, to not be berated as you're dying.

Death is nothing to me compared to this. Waiting to die is worse than death. Endless anticipation of pain is worse than death. Having everything about you erased by pain is worse. Not knowing anything about yourself except that you are incredibly shameful existence and that you need to feel guilty all of the time, is worse. Watching people around you receive care and warmth while you're stuck watching death in the face silently, pretending it's not happening, and trying to not have anyone's attention on yourself because someone noticing means more pain, more shame and guilt. It's worse. Kill me any fucking day. But this will always be worse. Every time I face the reality of my life I wish I had died in the womb, at childbirth, I wish I had died when I was 1, 2, 3, 5, 10, 12, any time before I experienced all this. It would have been so much less pain. It would have been so much easier on me.

And I've already given up on ever having a place in anyone's heart, because at this point, I don't have it in me to make people love me. I have nothing about me that is other people find worth caring for, I made peace with it. There will be no loved ones, and thats fine. But at least then I should get to live my life alone the way I want it. I should find joy in being who I found I am, and doing what I want to do. I should get to do things that give me a little bit of pleasure and enjoyment, and I should be safe, and death should no longer come knocking at my door, staring me down like I owe it something. If I can't even have that, then to hell with everything. What is the fucking point of anything if all my life is a continued slow torture until I can no longer bear it. I have nobody to bear it for, nobody would be harmed by my death. But I also don't deserve to die, because I want to live, and this should be mine. Who the fuck dares to try and take this away from me again. I want to fucking explode. If I have to make my own justice then how do I do it. I literally just want to live. And I see other people having at least that much secured for them. Why can't I at least have that much. I am seriously asking for the bare fucking minimum.