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clownwritesfanfic · 5 months
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I Could Be A Good Mother, and I Wanna Be Your Wife
Katsuki Bakugou x Fem!Reader
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Summary: Class 1A is given the surprise task of caring for baby dolls. Everyone is randomly paired up in two’s, and it’s just your luck that you get your crush as a partner.
Warnings: Bakugou may be a little ooc but I don’t care
Genre: Fluff
Word Count: 6,512
Disclaimer: Reader is kept as diverse as possible but wears a skirt, uses the girls locker room, has long enough hair to run fingers through, calls herself ‘mother’, being able to birth a child, and was originally written with a fem aligned person in mind. This is safe for poc, and plus size readers. The majority of the fic is also safe for trans women readers but the bonus at the end is not. (Y/N) is used only once.
Important info before you read‼️
This fic was written originally with an OC of mine in mind, however, most people don’t read Canon x OC and while I normally wouldn’t care and wrote one anyway, I am very proud of this and want as many people to read it as possible and hopefully enjoy it. So with that in mind, I took out any describing factors and her name but I did keep some of her backstory and her quirk. If that bothers you, you can move on but I hope you read it anyway because I’m very proud of this.
Also, there is another OC of mine in this story, Usagi. She’s not integral to the plot and has no speaking roles. I had to add her to keep the class even, otherwise someone would’ve been a single parent.
Any feedback is very welcome and appreciated!
Title is inspired by ‘not a lot, just forever’ by Adrianna Lenker but the fic is unrelated.
———————————————————————
It was a Monday, a few weeks after the majority of Class 1A got their provisional hero licenses when Midnight and Recovery Girl entered the classroom. Aizawa had taken it upon himself to snuggle up in his yellow sleeping bag and take a nap after introducing the two women, leaving them to explain what today’s class is.
The students expected Midnight, considering she had taught a few of their classes before, but there were murmurs of why the school nurse was there.
“Listen up boys and girls! We have a very special and unique class for today!” Midnight announced as she raised her hand in the air, her leather whip clutched in her hand, catching the attention of everyone (who was awake) in the room.
“Today isn’t about hero work or everyday schoolwork. This lesson is special, it will help you all later in your lives if you choose this path. The path being….PARENTHOOD!” She exclaimed while striking an enthusiastic pose.
“Wait, what?!” “Seriously?” “What do you mean?!” A series of voices could be heard throughout the classroom.
“Settle down!” Midnight got the attention of the students. “This lesson is the most important lesson anyone can learn. Whether you want to become a parent or not, learning how to care for babies and children is a vital and selfless aspect of life.”
There were a couple hushed protests among the class but Recovery Girl talked over them. “You will have one week to care for these babies.” She explained as she pulled out eleven baby dolls of various genders and races. “These dolls are specially made for things like this. These babies will cry, make noises, “sleep”, “eat”, and soil its diaper like a real baby. They’re also able to record and grade you based on how quickly you can figure out and resolve its problem. And be careful what you say around it and how you say things. They can detect anger and verbal abuse which will drastically affect your score. Now…any questions?”
A bunch of hands were instantly raised. But that didn’t matter since Bakugou stood up and slammed his hands onto his desk and yelled. “WHAT THE HELL DO WE HAVE TO RAISE SOME DUMB BABIES FOR?! THIS IS THE HERO COURSE NOT A NURSEY COURSE!”
“Sit down.” Midnight said sternly. She took over the conversation. “While this lesson isn’t exactly meant to play into your hero work, this knowledge can be beneficial out in the field. For example, in some rescue operations, it can take hours for a child to be reunited with their family. Most of the time, medics will take the child and work with police to try and reunite them with their parents, but there are times where a hero must step in and care for and comfort the child. With older children around three to five years old, they’re easier to calm down. You can talk to them and explain the situation and reassure them. But babies and younger children are harder to console in high stress situations. If you learn these things now, you won’t be stressed if you ever get caught in a situation where you’re in charge of a small child. A lot of heroes are inexperienced with child care unless they are a parent themselves or have young family members. Think of this as getting ahead of a problem before it even starts. Make sense?”
Bakugou grumbled and sat back down.
“Eeeee This is going to be fun! We get to take care of cute babies!” Ashido squealed.
“I don’t think it will be that fun, Mina. Babies are a lot of hard work and dedication.” Asui chimed in, a finger lifted up to her lips. She had two younger siblings, so she knew a thing or two about raising kids.
“Correct you are, child.” Recovery Girl said. “The infant stage is one of the toughest stages of child rearing since they can’t communicate their needs and wants with words. It’s a lot of guessing and paying attention to their body language. However, these dolls do not move so you will have to rely on audio cues to guess what the child needs.”
Midnight spoke up. “You will be split up into groups of two all determined by a random draw. Because there are more boys than girls in this class, some of you will end up in a same sex partnership. You do not have to act as a real couple so don’t freak out if you’re partnered with someone you don’t have romantic feelings for. What’s important is teamwork on taking care of the baby. You are in charge of the child for the rest of this week, including the weekend. You may chose to either take turns or to split responsibility evenly. You will be given all the supplies you will need, if you end up needing more, Recovery Girl will help you. At the end of the week you will return the dolls and we will tally up the scores and see which couple has the lowest score. The lowest score is the winner since each mistake is marked based on how severe of a mistake it was. The higher the score, the worse you did. Any more questions?”
Iida quickly raised his hand. Midnight gestured for him to speak. He stood up and loudly asked “If we are to have the baby all day for the rest of the week, what do we do with it while training? You can’t expect us to take the baby with us! That’s highly dangerous and immoral and I would expect better from such a prestigious school!”
“Yes, you’re right. We don’t expect you to keep the doll with you while training. That’s why each of you will have to figure something out. One of you will have to sit out of training unless you can find a better option. Leaving the child in your dorm and hoping for the best is not an option and neither is bringing it to training and leaving it off to the side. It’s like real life. One of the parents has to stay home and care for the child. Sometimes they will get a babysitter but that is not an option for you since the scores need to come from you and your partner only for you to pass. If you really want to train that day, you’ll either have to talk it through with your partner, or train later in the day during your free time.” Midnight answered.
“Thank you very much for clearing this up.” Iida said, bowing deeply before taking his seat.
Midnight clapped her hands. “Alright! With everything out of the way, let’s draw for your partners.” She held up a blue plastic box. “In this box is twenty-two coloured tokens. There are eleven pairs. Each one of you will reach into this box and pull out one token, when everyone has a token, you will be given time to find the person with the same colour token. They will be your partner for the rest of the week. You may not switch partners. Each colour is already assigned to a baby as well, so you don’t get to chose that either.” As she finished explaining she walked around the room letting everyone reach in and pull out a token. When the box was empty she returned to the front and allowed the class to find their partners.
Midoriya and Uraraka had the yellow tokens, Shouji and Asui had the purple tokens, Mina and Kirishima had the red tokens, Kaminari and Jirou had the orange tokens, Hagakure and Yayorozu had the light blue tokens, Sero and Mineta had the black tokens, Usagi and Tokoyami had the dark blue tokens, Todoroki and Ojiro had the pink tokens, Iida and Aoyama had the green tokens, and Satou and Kouda had the white tokens.
You looked down at your brown coloured token and looked back up to scan the room. All your classmates were already paired up and either happily talking about how it would be to raise a baby together or complaining about their partner. You could faintly hear Mineta crying about not being paired up with a girl. You look across the room at Bakugou who was still sat at his desk, glaring at his token.
Upon closer look, you could see that it was the same colour as yours. You sighed, already accepting that you’ll basically be a single parent as you can’t imagine he’d want anything to do with this. You reluctantly stood up and made your way across the classroom to him.
“Um…hey. Looks like we have the same colour. Guess we’re partners for the week.” You said, gently.
“I can fucking see that. I’m not blind, dumbass.” He retorted.
Ah, it seems he’s decided to take on the verbally abusive and absent father route already. You’ll have to do your best to make sure you get a low enough score. You’ve never taken care of a baby before. You had baby dolls as a kid but they’ve never graded you before. This was a whole new challenge and you could feel the anxiety pooling in your stomach.
“Right…well. We should talk about how we want to do this.” You started. “I think we should take turns each day. I could take it today and you take it tomorrow and repeat. I know you probably don’t want to skip a day of training so I can take it during training even on your days. There’s not much really for me to train anyway so I can afford to lose a week of it.” You let out a weak laugh.
Bakugou growled. “Do whatever you want but don’t be stupid. You can train on the days I have it. Don’t stop your training over some dumb doll.”
“But…you would be stopping yours if you-“ You get cut off by the blonde.
“I’m already the best in this whole class! Missing a few days of training isn’t going to do anything. Besides, you’re weak and you need to be at your strongest so I can beat you and prove that I’m the best in this entire school!” He yelled. You think that was a compliment albeit he put it weirdly.
“Ha…yeah…okay.” You replied. Just then the bell rang and everyone started to put their stuff away. You went over to your desk to do the same.
“Please return your tokens to the box! And before you leave, pick up your baby with the matching colour onesie and the bag of necessities. You have the rest of the day to yourselves.” Said Midnight.
You slung your bag onto your back and walked to the front of the room and dropped your token back into the box. You waited for your classmates to fizzle out a bit so you could get your baby. The dolls were all lined up in car seats. You found the one wearing a brown onesie, a girl with blonde hair. You chuckled to yourself at the resemblance to your partner.
You grabbed the handle of the car seat and went to grab the big duffel bag next to it when someone grabbed it before you. You look over to see Bakugou standing over you, glaring off to the side.
“Move it.” He gruffed out as he slung the bag over his shoulder.
You left the classroom with Bakugou trailing behind you, still scowling. You turn around and start walking backwards to face him and hold out the car seat so he could see the doll nestled inside.
“Look. She looks like you.” You giggled. He glanced down at the blonde doll and huffed.
“Watch where you’re going, idiot.” He grumbled. You rolled your eyes and turned back around and followed your classmates to the dorms.
———————————————————————
Back in the dorms, everyone was changed out of their school uniforms and gathered in the common room with their new kids. Everyone of course…except for Bakugou, who very grumpily went to his room after dropping the bag of things off at your room.
You had went through the bag and found loads of diapers, clothing, a carrier that strapped to your chest, bottles, a pacifier, and some baby toys. You weren’t exactly sure why you would need toys, considering the baby isn’t actually real, but you guessed you’d find out the reason sooner or later.
You decided to change her out of her boring brown onesie so you picked out a cute outfit from the ones provided. You undid the buckles holding the baby in the car seat (why it came in a car seat when you don’t even know how to drive a car, you will not know) and gently and carefully lifted the little girl out of the seat, making sure to support her head.
As you laid her on the ground and started to undress her, she started making cooing noises.
“Oh! Hello….you must be awake now I guess.” You spoke to the baby as she cooed in reply. “Ha…I guess you are kinda cute.” You felt as if you were talking to yourself.
When your new daughter was dressed, you decided to go to the common room since you thought everyone would be there, and right you were. As you went down the hallway you could hear the excited chatter of your classmates getting louder. When you were in sight, Mina noticed you and waved you over.
“Hey! Come over here! We’re all showing off our babies!” She excitedly exclaimed. As you walked over, Kirishima stood up from his spot beside Mina and offered the space to you. You thanked him as you sat down and readjusted your baby in your arms.
“Course! What kinda man would I be if I didn’t offer a seat to a lady with a baby!” He replied. Ever so chivalrous, he is.
“Ha! That rhymed.” Kaminari pointed out.
“Awww you got a girl? How lucky!” Mina squealed. “Kirishima and I got a boy. We named him Kenji.” You looked down at her lap where the doll was laid on its back.
“You named it?” You asked.
“Well yeah! We can’t just keep calling him “it” and “the baby”.” She explained as if it was obvious.
Iida then chimed in, his baby tucked securely in one of his arms. “Yes, I suppose it would be beneficial to name the child. This is supposed to be taken seriously and we can not leave a child unnamed!”
There were murmurs of agreement throughout the room as everyone talked with their partners on what they should name their baby. You looked down to the small blonde doll in your arms that let out another coo and softly smiled.
“Riki…” You thought to yourself. “I’ll call you Riki.”
———————————————————————
“Riki?” Bakugou gawked. “You gave it a name?”
Bakugou was helping with making dinner, well, it was more like he forced everyone to let him do most of it because “no one was doing it right”. You were stood out of the way but within talking distance, your newly named baby in one arm and holding a bottle up to her mouth as she “ate”.
“First off, she’s a she not an “it”. Secondly, everyone in the class named their baby. We have to take this seriously and I’m not going to call her an “it” the whole week. Besides…I thought Riki would be a good name. It means “strong”….and since she kinda looks like you, I figured you’d want your kid to be strong like you so…” You trailed off looking down at the doll in your arms. “We can change it though if you really don’t like it.”
Bakugou huffs. “No…call it-…..call her whatever you want.” He continues to cook in silence. There’s a faint blush on his cheeks. You smile softly at him. Maybe you won’t have to do this alone after all.
———————————————————————
The first day goes by smoothly. You had a bit of a learning curve with changing the diaper but you managed after help from Yayorozu. Who knew she’d be so good at something like that?
You had just settled down into bed after putting Riki to “sleep” and were scrolling on your phone. It was about 10pm, most people were still awake but you knew the person you wanted to talk to most more than likely wasn’t. He went to bed at 8:30pm every night, even on weekends.
You stared at your screen open on Bakugou’s blank private messages page. UA made an app for the students to contact each other and teachers with. It worked like a regular texting app, every class had their own group chat and you could private message each other, even students from other classes. All of them were accessible to staff if needed though.
You didn’t know if you should even bother asking him if he’s still going to take Riki tomorrow. Plus you didn’t want to wake him up. You were about to turn your phone off when you got a message from Mina. You open up her message and see a picture of Kirishima with his hair down, asleep on one of the couches in the common room with their baby on his chest. You laughed quietly to yourself and responded with a cute reaction meme. You thought they would make an interesting pair for this project.
You turned off your phone and plugged it in to charge and set it on your bedside table. You got comfortable in bed and closed your eyes. It would take you a while to fall asleep so you started to let your mind wander. You realized that tomorrow Bakugou will miss out on training if he takes the baby. He already told you earlier today in class not to worry about it and to focus on your own training…but you genuinely couldn’t think on how training would benefit you.
Your quirk has always been more of a supporting quirk rather than one that could do well in a fight one on one. Your quirk is called Cheer, by speaking words of encouragement to someone, you can make your target stronger both physically and emotionally. The reverse also works, if you berate someone it makes them weaker. You can use it on more than one person but its effects get weaker the more people you use it in at once. There’s also a major weakness to your quirk. Anytime you berate someone, you gain confidence, but when you encourage someone, it takes away your confidence. Because of this you feel inferior to everyone else in your class. Even Mineta has a more useful quirk in combat than you do. You’re basically forced to sit on the sidelines and watch people fight. It helps in rescue operations but you still wished you could fight like everyone else. You only managed to get into the hero course because you racked up enough rescue points and got lucky with a three pointer.
It’s ironic that someone with an inferiority complex got paired up with someone with a superiority complex. It’s even more ironic that you managed to gain a crush on the bastard too.
———————————————————————
It was now Tuesday morning and Bakugou was sat in his room staring at the doll in its car seat.
You had entered the common room already dressed in your uniform with Riki in the seat. Hero training was the first class that morning so anyone who was in charge of their baby that day stayed behind and would join everyone later for normal classes. Your tie wasn’t done yet and your skirt was pulled up a little too high, showing off more thigh than you usually do, as you were in a rush since Riki wouldn’t stop crying and you couldn’t figure out why. She had finally managed to settle down when you gave her the included pacifier.
You weren’t much of a breakfast eater, especially if you were training in the morning so you didn’t go to the kitchen. You noticed Bakugou sat on one of the couches drinking something out of a mug. He was wearing a simple black tank top and sweatpants.
“Oh Bakugou! There you are. I’m guessing since you’re not in uniform you’re still taking Riki today.” You sat the car seat on the floor near him and started doing your tie. You knew you were just going to have to take it off soon to change into your hero costume but you still wanted to show up looking like you at least tried. “So I figured out that she makes different noises depending on what she wants. Most of the time she just wants to be held or given a pacifier so she makes really whiny sounds that almost sound like a cry. She was just crying now and the only thing that made her stop was the pacifier so she might start up again soon. I made a smaller bag of her things like diapers and her bottle just so you’re not carrying a big ass duffel bag later.” You were almost rivalling Midoriya with how fast you were muttering, you didn’t mean to but you didn’t want to be late and you kept fumbling with your tie.
As you were smoothing out your front, you felt a pair of hands grab the bottom of your skirt and start to pull down. You shrieked and smacked the hands away and turned around to see (to the best of your ability) Hagakure behind you.
“Oh my god, Hagakure! I had no idea who was behind me! You scared me thinking it was Mineta pulling at my skirt.” You laughed and grabbed onto the girls arms.
“Ahhh I’m sorry! I just noticed your skirt was up a lot higher than normal and you almost showed off a bit too much.” The invisible girl explained as you fixed your skirt. “Come on, we got to get to class!”
“Right, yeah, I’m coming.” You responded as Hagakure held your hand. You quickly turned to Bakugou again who once again had a faint blush dusting his cheeks. “You sure you’ll be okay? I know it’s only for an hour before I see you again so if you want to pawn her off to me next class then that’s fine.”
“Tch…how incompetent do you think I am? Of course I can take care of some stupid doll for an hour!” He barked back at you.
You felt Hagakure pulling you towards the front door. “Ok, well…see you later then!” You said as you finally took off with your friend, leaving Bakugou and a few others scattered around the common room.
“Heyyy, Bakugou! You get stuck on babysitting duty too?” Kaminari taunted, his baby settled in a carrier strapped to his chest.
Bakugou growled. “It’s not babysitting when it’s your own kid you idiot. And you look dumb with that thing on.” He stood up and grabbed the handle of the car seat and went off to his room. He could hear Kaminari complaining as he left.
Now here he was, in his room having a staring match with a doll. He wasn’t sure what to do for an hour, let along with a baby. He glanced up at some math homework left on his desk and decided to finish it up so he was ahead of everyone else in class. Ten minutes past when his concentration was interrupted by whining. He looked over at the car seat that was faced away from him at this angle and sighed. He reached over and turned it around.
“Jesus. She didn’t mention how fucking annoying it would be.” He muttered to himself as he undid the straps and lifted the baby out. “What the hell is your problem, huh?” He asked, surprisingly not as loud as he normally would. He thought maybe she was hungry and remembered you said something about a small bag with her bottle in it. He looked around but couldn’t find it. In fact, he didn’t remember seeing any bag with the baby anyway. He grumbled as he picked up his phone and opened up the messaging app and sent you a private message.
In the locker rooms you heard your phone buzz and decided to look at it as you were changing. You saw a notification from Bakugou and quickly opened it.
Katsuki Bakugou: hey, dumbass. she’s crying but I can’t find that bag you were talking about
You winced as you remembered that you never actually grabbed the bag in your rush to get downstairs.
You: damn I must have forgotten it in my room, sorry. feel free to go and grab it. my room code is 6678 it should be on my desk. you know which floor I’m on right?
Bakugou scoffed.
Katsuki Bakugou: yes I know. I’m not stupid.
You: never said you were <3 have fun lol
You didn’t realize you sent the heart. It was muscle memory from texting with your friends, but it sent Bakugou for a loop.
After he had quickly made his way to the second floor and grabbed the bag you mentioned, he went back to his room where he had left the baby on his bed. Her whining had turned into crying by now.
“Alright, Alright! I got your damn stuff.” Bakugou sat on the floor and settled the doll into his arm. He removed the pacifier and held the bottle up to its mouth. He felt relieved when the crying stopped. “This is fucking ridiculous.” He thought out loud.
He rested his back on his bed and started to drift off in to thought. Why did you send that heart? Did you mean to do it? Was it a reflex? Were you making fun of him? No…that couldn’t be right. You were one of the few that took him seriously. Sure you teased him sometimes, but not as much as the others. He thought back to a time where he accidentally overheard something he probably shouldn’t have that still made his heart feel weird.
———————————————————————
Bakugou was making his way to the kitchen to get something to drink. He could hear you and the other girls of Class 1A giggling and talking about random shit.
He was going to ignore the group when something made him stop in his tracks right before he would be seen.
“Sooo, who do you like?” Mina asked with a teasing voice.
“Who, me?” You asked as Mina nodded. All eyes were on you and you felt yourself blush. “Well…I guess I kinda have a thing for Bakugou…” You answered shyly, playing with the hem of your shirt.
“What?!” “Wait, Bakugou?!” “Really?” The girls cried out in unison.
“Why is that so shocking? You guys seriously don’t think he’s at least a little bit attractive?” You inquired.
Bakugou stiffened at the confession and he felt his heartbeat speed up. You…had a crush on him? Someone actually was interested in him romantically?
“You don’t think all his yelling and name calling is a turn off?” Uraraka asked.
“Hm…not really. Sure he says some mean stuff but…he doesn’t actually mean it.” You reasoned.
“I don’t know…he always seems to be serious about it. I mean he doesn’t even know our names.” Jirou huffed.
“Yes he does!” You laughed. “He’s not stupid. He’s a lot smarter than I think any of you give him credit for.”
“He is in the top our class academic wise as well as hero wise.” Yayorozu chimes in.
“Exactly. Have none of you realized that a lot of his plans actually work? He may seem like he’s rushing into things but it’s obvious he’s put clear thought into his plans. And the fact that he can make one up that quickly is impressive. He’s also more compassionate than you’d think.” You said, leaning back on the couch.
“Well I think you’re wrong with that.” Tsu replied.
“Because you guys are only seeing the surface level. You’re not reading in between the lines. For example, remember when we just moved into the dorms, the talk Mr. Aizawa had with us outside?” They nodded. “When Mr. Aizawa left, you could feel the uncomfortable tension in the class at being reminded of what happened. Bakugou grabbed Kaminari and made him go all dumb because he knew it would make everyone laugh. And it did! The tension was gone instantly! Bakugou really does care, he just doesn’t know how to show it like other people. And remember the school festival? He totally could’ve refused to play the drums but he did it anyway! That’s what I like about him. He’s not a cold hearted asshole, he just wants you to think he is. I use to be like that too.” You trailed off, looking ashamed.
“Wait. YOU were an asshole?” Mina prodded.
You sighed and nodded. “Yeah, back when I first got my quirk. I realized that putting other people down gave me a lot of confidence. I went on a power trip and started bullying everyone. I started to realize that the “friends” that I did have were only my “friends” so they could escape my words. Made me feel like shit when I found out. Now I hate using my quirk like that unless absolutely necessary. But yeah….I see through Bakugou’s walls and I guess it just made me fall for him.” You changed the subject.
“Wow…you’re whipped for him, aren’t you?” Mina teased.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just don’t tell him that. I don’t need him on my ass about it.” You blushed and waved her off.
“You sure you don’t want him on your ass?” Mina teased again.
“OH SHUT UP!” You threw a pillow at her as the girls laughed.
———————————————————————
Bakugou had zoned out at that memory. He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, it’s your fault for being so damn loud and talking about him in the first place! It’s been a few weeks since that and it’s still fresh in his mind. Did he like you back? He wasn’t sure. On one hand he was pissed at how you managed to figure him out so easily, but on the other hand…he felt comforted knowing someone understood him and didn’t make fun of him for it. He will admit that you weren’t that bad looking or as stupid as everyone else. He did wish you would see the potential you had with your quirk, though. He could feel his cheeks start to heat up and he scoffed, snapping out of his thoughts and looking back down at the doll in his arms.
“I guess…she’s not so bad…” He said softly to Riki.
———————————————————————
Training had finished and you and the rest of your classmates were on your way to your next class.
Upon entering the classroom you noticed everyone that had skipped out on training standing around, babies either in their arms, strapped to their chest, or in the car seat. Bakugou was sat in his spot, chin in his hand looking out the window to his left.
You had a few minutes to spare before class started so you walked up to your partner. “Hey! How’d it go? Was she fussy?” You asked as you squatted down to see Riki, who was in her car seat on the floor next to his desk.
“Tch, no. I told you I know what I’m doing.” He grumbled.
“I’m pretty sure none of us know what we’re doing but it’s nice to know that you’re taking this seriously.” You replied standing back up.
“HA? YOU THINK I WOULD’NT? YOU THINK I’M NOT CAPABLE OF THIS?” He yelled as he let off small explosions.
“Course not. I did kinda think you would end up leaving most of this to me though. But it’s nice that you’re playing along.” You smiled sincerely.
Iida started ushering everyone to their assigned seats as class was about to begin. You patted Bakugou on his shoulder and left to your seat near the back of the class.
He clenched his fists and glared down at his desk, he could feel his heartbeat going wild again.
———————————————————————
A few days had passed and it was now Friday night and you were at your wits end.
It was your day with Riki and she had been crying non stop for thirty minutes now. You were pacing your room with her in your arms as the doll “sobbed” louder and louder with each agonizing minute. You had no idea what was wrong; you tried feeding her, changing her diaper, holding her, giving her a pacifier, you even tried the toys that they provided but nothing was working!
You were close to tears yourself as you thought about how this would affect your grade and how pissed Bakugou would be if you ruined it. The whole week went by just fine, it never took this long for her to settle down. You had gotten lucky with the baby you were given as she was so easy to care for, but this moment right now was proving difficult.
Feeling like you had no other choice, you left your room with your still wailing daughter in your arms and quickly made your way up to Bakugou’s room.
You knocked on his door while still trying to shush Riki. When Bakugou opened the door, he looked like he had just woken up which made you start ranting.
“Bakugou, fuck, I’m so sorry to bother you right now I know you like to go to bed early but she’s been crying like this for like thirty minutes now and I’ve tried everything but she just won’t stop crying and I don’t know what to do and I’m probably gonna make us fail cause I can’t get her to fucking stop and I just…” You panted “…can you please help me?” You nearly whined.
“Give her to me.” Bakugou reached out as you transferred her into his arms. He walked away with the crying doll, leaving his door open. You decided that was an invitation so you slipped into his room and gently closed the door behind you. You watched as Bakugou gently bounced the doll in his arms and started petting its blonde head.
You stared in awe as Riki started to finally quiet down until she was silent. You breathed out a sigh of relief but tears started to quickly gather in your eyes. Bakugou had opened his balcony door and stepped outside to the cool air. You ran a hand through your messy hair and followed them out onto the balcony. The not quite freezing but cold air nipping at your skin. It felt nice as you didn’t even notice that you were sweating from the stress. You bent over and rested your elbows on the railing and placed your head in your hands, trying to hold back your tears.
“She had been crying for so long…I tried everything but nothing worked. But the minute you have her she finally stops. What the hell am I doing wrong? Why am I such a bad mother?” You muttered more to yourself but your partner could hear you anyways.
A minute of silence went by as you tried to not let your tears fall when Bakugou finally spoke up, surprising gently. “Don’t beat yourself up over something you barely know how to handle.”
He leaned his back against the railing next to you. His arm barely grazing against your shoulder, his way of trying to comfort you. You sniffed and dropped your arms from your head and looked forward out into the dark courtyard.
“She’s been perfect this entire week. Nothing I couldn’t handle…but she just had to act like a total brat tonight.” You sighed.
“Hey.” Bakugou said sternly. “Don’t call our daughter a brat…that’s my line.”
You laughed at that, completely overlooking the fact that you called the doll “our daughter”. Bakugou softly smiled at your laugh, also not realizing exactly what he said. But her certainly felt his heart flutter as he looked down at the baby in his arms.
Bakugou decided he’d take her for the rest of the night so you could get some sleep. It was his turn tomorrow anyway.
———————————————————————
Monday had come by quickly, thus, ending the project. Recovery Girl had collected the dolls, and you couldn’t lie, you felt a little sad at the fact that you won’t have Riki around anymore. The class waited in anticipation to see whose grade was the lowest.
When the results came in, Midnight stood at the front of the class once again and started to call out the grades.
“Coming in last place is Sero and Mineta with a sixty-five.” Mineta started screaming about how unfair it was and that they got a faulty doll. “Todoroki and Ojiro have a score of thirty-four, Kaminari and Jirou have a thirty, Iida and Aoyama a twenty-seven, Usagi and Tokoyami with twenty-five, Shouji and Asui with twenty-one, Hagakure and Yayorozu with twenty, Mina and Kirishima with an eighteen, Satou and Kouda with a fifteen, Bakugou and (Y/N) with a score of eight, and lastly, coming in first place with the best score is Midoriya and Uraraka with a three! Good work everyone. I hope you all learned some valuable lessons from this experience!” Midnight finished.
There were high fives and cheers coming from the people with the lower scores and talks of what they could’ve done better from the people with higher marks.
You stared down at your desk smiling. Eight wasn’t so bad, right? Much better than what Mineta got.
At the front of the class, Bakugou has turned his head back to look at you and softly smiled to himself when he saw your relief. He turned back around to look down at his hands as he played with his pen. He could hear Midoriya and Uraraka being congratulated for the lowest score and for once in his life….he didn’t mind coming in second.
———————————————————————
Bonus:
Twelve years later, Bakugou had established himself as the number two hero with his own agency. You worked along side him as his number one sidekick. You both grew a lot since high school and grew closer from the experience. You managed to get rid of your inferiority complex and become more comfortable with using your quirk against villains rather than standing by and cheering on the heroes. You can also hold your own in combat pretty well now and you have a slew of support items to help.
But instead of kicking ass on the street you were laid out on a hospital bed after the longest 7 hours of your life. You were sweaty and exhausted, but it was all worth it as you looked at the little bundle in your arms. A head of blonde hair was peaking out of the blanket.
“What should we name her?” You whispered to the person leaning over you with their hand on your head and looking lovingly down at the newborn.
“…..Riki.” Bakugou said softly.
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damian-lil-babybat · 18 days
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'Dead Poets Society' gang
Headcanon that these four drop poetry and literature quotes on their conversations unprompted.
Jason 'English-major-I-only-visit-the-manor-for-the-library' Todd-Wayne
Damian 'I-master-liberal-arts-unlike-you-plebs-PHD-holder' al Ghul-Wayne
Cassandra 'I-learn-English-thru-Shakespeare-as-god-intended' Cain-Wayne
Duke 'only-title-holder-of-vigilante-poet-and-will-cuss-you-just-as-poetically' Thomas-(future) Wayne
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 10 months
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Gaslight, Gatekeep, Girl found dead in a hidden room.
[First] Prev <–-> Next
#poorly drawn mdzs#mdzs#lan xichen#jin guangyao#jiang cheng#wei wuxian#qin su#EDIT: Tumblr published an earlier draft with only half the notes I wrote so: late entry on my JGY thoughts.#Unlike the mystic powers of the stockmarket (what the OG meme is referring to) I think this situation calls for more active investigation.#qin su is such a deeply tragic character to me and I really wish we got a bit more from her.#Love everyone who sent me messages about her after the last time she appeared.#I think she needs a spin off of her being a transmigrator SO badly.#MDZS has so many interesting characters - but it sometimes fails to give them the proper room to really develop past a role in the plot.#That's just the consequence of writing a story like MDZS. Not every character in a book *needs* to have a rich inner life and backstory!#To do so would bog down the story and obliterate any notion of pacing. It's just not possible.#Jin Guangyao (nee Meng Yao) is unfortunately not free from this leeway rule. He is the culprit of this murder mystery plot#and thus NEEDS to encapsulate the themes of the book. And personally he's a 7 out of 10 at best on this front (in the AD).#MDZS is about rumours twisting reality and working towards truth. And about how people & situations are rarely ever black & white#JGY has his motivations. He's well written in regards to his actions making sense for his character.#What started as good traits (drive to succeed & improve his image) became twisted over time (do anything to maintain his image)#and it's a good parallel to WWX! He has the same arc (with different traits)! Bonus points for IGY in that regard.#but man....by the time we confront this guy for murder there's not a lot of grey morality. He's just...deep in the hole *he* dug.#There's a beautiful tragedy to it! More on JGY in later comics - this is getting pretty long already!
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mellowthorn · 6 months
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Family cuddle
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figthefruitfaeth · 1 year
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thesunisatangerine · 5 months
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playing for keeps – chapter three
alexia putellas x barçakeeper!childhoodfriend!reader
warnings: coarse language, light angst
(a/n in the tags) [chapters: one, two, three]
word count: 8.8k
[1]
Just before you turned thirteen your body, finally, began to change. 
While Alexia’d gone ahead of you a year prior—with her limbs now lanky and sinewy, and her muscles stretched close to the newly grown bones—you were left behind. She’d grown taller, yes; not by much but the two-inch difference (two and a half, as Alexia was always inclined to remind you) felt like a foot to you. So the change was welcome when it finally started, and more importantly, it happened to coincide with something that completely altered the trajectory of your life.
During the spring after your birthday, your father got a promotion at work. To celebrate this milestone, he took you and your mother for a trip around Europe. And as a gift for your hard work and for getting into La Masia with Alexia just a few months before, your parents surprised you with tickets to at least one game in the country, or area, you were visiting. 
In Gelsenkirchen, Germany, you found your destiny. 
Or at least that was how you liked to look at it. 
Before seeing the match between Schalke 04 against Stuttgart, the idea of keeping never entered your mind; you’d played forward your whole life, and you thought that would be the position you’d play in professionally. But as you saw Manuel Neuer controlling the outcome of the game with his hands, a spark ignited within you—this overwhelming surge—and right there and then, you were enlightened to the art of keeping. That spark returned home with you and, playing into the hands of fate, your journey to keeping began.
[2]
The crescendo of the cicadas’ song was this close to lulling you to sleep. It didn’t help that Alexia’d curled herself up beside you in your bed, her head on your lap while her math notebook laid forgotten at the foot of the bed, and her eyes already closed. It was a rare occurrence for the both of you and even more so for Alexia to ‘slack off’—if you were to put it as Alexia had—but this afternoon was a particularly hot one. Summer had practically bled into spring, and even someone like Alexia clearly wasn’t immune to its soporific effect. 
The numbers from the homework you were working on began to blur when you heard a knock downstairs. Out of curiosity or just surprise, you snapped awake. And so did Alexia, apparently.
“You expecting someone?” Alexia yawned, stretching out her long limbs before settling over to her other side. The movement made a lock of hair fall to her cheek which you brushed away with the back of your finger.
“No, it’s probably Mamá’s.” You hummed in answer, relaxing down on your pillow to finally chase that nap that continued to tempt you.
But then came your mother’s voice, “Guille! Hello, my boy! How are you?”
Alexia let out a startled yelp when you jumped out of the bed, now fully awake, tripping on the rug as you rushed into the closet. 
“What the hell? What are you doing?!” Alexia hissed with annoyance but you were too busy trying to get changed to address it. 
You snatched the closest pair of shorts and jersey shirt, and began to shed the ones you had on before you slipped the fresh ones on in quick succession. 
As you did, you began to explain, “I completely forgot! I was supposed to meet up with Guille today!”
When your head popped out of your shirt, you found a deep crease between Alexia’s brows. She was sitting in the middle of your bed, cross-legged, looking very much like a disgruntled cat woken from a nap with the way her hair stuck out in odd places. 
She looked adorable. 
You bit your tongue before you could say it.
Crossing her arms, Alexia retorted, “Why? It’s Saturday.” 
The tone she used made it seem that today being a Saturday was a valid enough reason for you to not go. 
“And it is because it’s Saturday—and no training, Alexia—that I can go with him.” 
At that, her frown only seemed to deepen. You had half a mind to tease her but you knew that’d probably just piss her off even more, although if you were being honest, you didn’t understand just why this seemed to bother Alexia so much.  So instead of teasing, you tried a placating tone, “You could come with if you want?”
Alexia opened her mouth, “I—”
Your mother’s shout cut through the air. 
“Honey? Guille is here for you!” 
You sent Alexia one last apologetic glance. 
“I’m really sorry! Please stay for dinner! I’ll be quick!” 
And with a quick hug goodbye, you rushed out of your room and practically flew down the stairs. At the bottom, you found Guille leaning against the bannister, hands in his short pockets, with a small rucksack on his back who, upon seeing you, gave you a bright smile.
“Hey! You look—” He began but then suddenly, his eyes darkened and the quirk of his lips turned upside down, his tone flattening, “Oh. You’re here.”
In the same second you noticed Alexia beside you, Alexia’d slung an arm over your shoulders.
“Lovely to see you as always, Guille. And I could say the same about you.” Alexia deadpanned, flashing Guille a smile full of teeth, her eyes void of any warmth as she stared at him down her nose. Then she turned to you, her face lighting up as she asked with a little too much excitement, “So, are we going or not?”
“Wait, she’s coming with us?” Guille blurted out, but before you could even answer, Alexia left your side and ran down the steps. 
“Of course, Guille! Come on, keep up!” Alexia exclaimed on her way out of the door, tapping Guille’s stomach as she did—not without force apparently with the way Guille expelled air out harshly. 
When you got to him, you placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. 
“Are you okay?”
He let out a strained, “Yes.”
You gave Guille an apologetic look, grabbing your ball bag. 
“I’m really sorry for the last minute change. I’ll make it up to you.”
Still clutching his stomach, he said, “Don’t worry about it.”
The three of you got to the field near your place—which you were glad to find empty—without any more incidents. You were faced with another problem as it was only after you’d begun warming up that you realized that in your haste to leave, you forgot to bring water with you. When you told Alexia, she offered to go to the nearest corner store to buy some.
You stretched as you waited for Alexia’s return when Guille suddenly said behind you.
“Here.”
Turning, you found him holding a paper parcel bag. You considered his outstretched hand with curiosity before you met his eyes, taking the bag from him slowly. “What’s this?”
“Just a little something to get you started,” he answered, scratching the back of his head. “You said you wanted to keep, so I thought you’d need them.”
Peering into the bag, you gasped at what you found inside. 
A new pair of keeper gloves.
“Guille, you didn’t have to!”
He shrugged, smiling, “Yeah, but I wanted to anyway.”
“Thank you! Come here, you big baby!” You laughed, throwing your arms around him. Unlike Alexia, Guille was only taller than you by mere centimeters so it was relatively easy to ruffle his hair as you pulled away. 
“Mess up my hair again and I won’t teach you anything,” He threatened with a faux glare as he swept his fingers through his curling locks in an attempt to tame them. 
You rolled your eyes, grinning at him. “Okay, Antonio Banderas. So, what are the basics?”
He imitated you, rolling his eyes before he shook his head slightly, his smile never leaving his lips. Then he pointed to a spot by the goal line. “Put your gloves on and stand right there.”
You did, noting the way your new gloves fit perfectly over your hands and fingers. It felt different—stuffy—and you could already feel your palms beginning to sweat from the trapped heat. When you stood where Guille pointed, he walked around you all the while he instructed you to correct your posture: he told you keep your feet shoulder-width apart, to bend your legs slightly so that your chest was just past your knees, and to hold your palms facing out. 
“The main thing to worry about starting out is your stance. It will take time to get the balance right but once you get it down, you’re set.”
“Is this alright?” 
Guille took a step back and he gripped his chin as he hummed. After a moment of scrutiny, he nudged you back suddenly. It wasn’t quite forceful but it made you tumble down on your rear all the same. 
You smiled at him sheepishly, getting up. “I guess that’s a no?”
“Yep. It looks like you keep your weight on your heels too much.” He crouched down at your feet, drawing a square over the front half of your foot. “Keep your weight spread out around here and you should—”
Guille scrambled back suddenly, yelping as a football went flying past where he was just a second ago and into the net. Turning to the direction where the ball came from with your mouth agape, you found Alexia there with water bottles clasped to her chest, an eyebrow raised, while one corner of her mouth was set in a bemused droop, another ball rolling beneath her left foot.
“What the hell was that for, asshole?!” Guille shouted as he stormed his way over to Alexia. He was in front of her now, looking up at her with flame in his eyes but Alexia remained unfazed. She put the water bottles down before she settled her hands on her hips, cocking her head slightly to the side. 
“I’m sorry, Guille. I didn’t see you.” Alexia said flatly, “And aren’t you supposed to be playing keeper?”
“Really. You didn’t see me? Besides—”
“Ale, I asked Guille to teach me.” You huffed, running in between them and separating them with your arms before things got out of hand—again. 
This wasn’t the first time this… row between them happened. In fact, you noticed it’s been occurring more frequently lately. For all their similarities—the main one being their short tempers—the two never got on well together for reasons you never really understood and the only thread that tied them together was you. 
They weren’t always like this though; they were nice with each other the first time they’d met. Guille transferred to your school not long after you’d joined Sabadell, and if you and Alexia were inseparable there, it was always you and Guille at school. And when an opportunity arose for your two favorite persons to meet, you took it. It went well; they were friendly with each other. You only noticed things had changed after you and Guille’s school team started playing against Alexia’s so you were never sure when this all started, and by that point, the friction between them was too great to smoothen out which both saddened and disappointed you.
And it wasn’t like you never tried to get to the bottom of it. You’d asked them what happened, they both gave similar answers. By that, you meant completely avoiding answering. 
Guille’d assured you, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, we’re friends? Don’t worry.” 
While Alexia’d said with a confused frown, “What do you mean? Nothing happened.” 
And when you pestered her, asked her if the reason was because she liked Guille as a joke, she looked at you without reply, and when next practice came, she made a nuisance of herself enough to let you know the answer to your question and more. 
And here you were again, with them acting like this–always at each other’s throats. 
At your answer, Alexia looked at you, confused. “Why would you ask him to teach you how to keep?”
Your gaze lanced away as you bit your lip.
Maybe you should’ve told her after all… 
Mustering up the courage to meet her eye again, you replied, low and serious. “I want to start playing keeper, Alexia.” 
Alexia blinked, and then she crossed her arms before she eyed Guille who was scowling at her in return. She looked at you again. 
“Have you told Alejandro about this?”
“Yes.” 
“Oh.” A pause. “What did he say?”
“I’ll still start as a forward. But he said he’ll put in some extra technical sessions for me starting next week which was why I asked Guille to help me get started. Alejandro said if I get good enough, he’ll see if I can start as keeper for the team.”
An uncomfortable silence settled over you three. 
You caught Guille’s eyes darting from you to Alexia and back again from the corner of your eyes but you remained focused on Alexia’s face. At a glance, Alexia might seem calm—impassive with the way all of her features remained flat. But her eyelids drooped just so they hid more than half of her pupils, how her lower lip was slightly concealed beneath the upper one; she was pissed and even worse, she was hurt. And knowing that you’d hurt her was enough to compel you to reach out and touch her arm, apologetic.
Alexia regarded you for a moment longer. Another word of apology was on the tip of your tongue when she finally sighed, the corner of her lips tilting up to a half-smile as she spoke softly. “Okay. How can I help?”
You couldn’t help yourself. You threw your arms around her and it felt like a weight was lifted from your chest upon hearing the chuckle she let out.
The next couple of hours were spent with the three of you working together: Guille by the goal who continuously gave you notes and instructions, while Alexia—upon Guille’s signal—would send some shots to the net so you could try and stop them. The first… fifty or so shots went right past you—going easy was never exactly Alexia’s strong suit—but the more you focused on getting the timing right and reading the language of Alexia’s body to anticipate the direction of the ball, you ended the session with a few decent saves. 
It was a rough start but you were satisfied with it.
You’d left to use the restroom but upon coming back, the two of them were bickering once more.
Oh, no. What was it now?
You heard more of their words the closer you got, but you didn’t have to move too close with the way they were shouting.
“Come on, dude! Please, don’t tell me you’re still pissed off about that? It was a fair match!”
“How was that fair, Alexia? The two of you playing together is never fair! You’re both in La Masia for crying out loud! And even more importantly, she was supposed to be on my team! That was the original plan, but you went ahead and took her away!”
“What made you think I took her away?” Alexia crossed her arms, scoffing. “Let’s face it. She likes to play with me more than you.”
“You don’t know that!”
That was the moment Alexia spotted you and before you could even get a word in, she said, “Why don’t we just ask her who she’d rather play with?”
Two sets of intense eyes looked your way and without meaning to, you gulped, taking a step back.
“So? Who would you rather play with: me or her?” Guille asked, eyes wide and pleading. 
Suddenly feeling like you were backed into a corner, you stammered in your panic, “Umm, I—”
[3]
Alexia stayed over for dinner that night. That was normal; what was unusual was she left you alone to do the dishes. You had a feeling where she might be, especially since she’d been mostly quiet throughout the whole evening.
After you put away the last dish in the cupboard, and when your arms were finally free from suds, you took a peek into the living room. She wasn’t there—a confirmation of her whereabouts.
Putting on your flip flops, you headed out of the back door. 
The light from the living room casted a faint glow that dissipated the darkness around the garden when you opened the door that led out to it, aiding you just enough to see Alexia on the swing, sitting still with her back hunched forward. Once you were just a few paces behind her, you saw the contours of her headset, but even with them on, there was no way she didn’t know you were there—the fact that your shadow stretched to reach her before you did was a dead give away. Yet still, she made no move to acknowledge your presence.
Okay. That was fair.
“Ale,” you said softly. 
She gave you a glance before she went back to looking down at her clasped hands. 
“Alexia, come on.” 
Still no response. You fiddled with your thumbs as the moment dragged on. 
You sighed, sitting down on your heels next to her.
“I should’ve told you about the keeper thing,” you muttered. “I wanted to get a feel for it first, to get a bit better at it before I told you. But I didn’t consider how that would make you feel… and I’m sorry. I’m sorry for making you feel that I didn’t want or need you by my side, Alexia. I wanted you to think I was good enough for this.” 
Finally, Alexia turned to you, taking her headset off, the movement barely above a whisper. And softly, she spoke, “What made you think that I’ll think you’re not good enough for anything?”
“I don’t know.” You admitted, pulling at the grass in front of you. Your mother would probably see the hole you’d made on the lawn and berate you for it in the morning but you needed something to keep your hands busy. “I just wanted to go through this without too many expectations. And it’s not like I don’t want to keep our dynamic going. I love playing forward with you, Alexia, but I think keeping is my calling, just like midfield is to you.”
“You don’t have to apologize. I completely understand. You didn’t want any added pressure. I’m not going to hold that against you.” 
“Thank you,” you smiled at her. Then, “So, tell me why are you sulking?”
“I’m not sulking!” Alexia huffed with indignation. Then she looked away again, working her lower lip between her teeth.
You put a hand on her knee. “Alexia, what is it?”
“I…” Alexia sighed, brushing the bridge of her nose with her thumb. You gave her another moment. She heaved another breath before she began.
“That thing you said… Did you really mean it when you said you’d rather play with him than me?”
Oh. So that was what this was about.
“Of course not. We both know it’s always going to be you, Alexia.”
“Then why did you tell him that?”
“I feel like if I didn’t, I’d lose him as a friend.”
“And you’re not worried about losing me?” Alexia cried out, her tone inflected while her eyes reflected her hurt.
You blinked at her. 
There were moments—just like now—where you’d feel a sudden urge to shake Alexia. For all her sharpness and unmatched awareness, she sometimes failed to see even the most obvious of things. Couldn’t she see that you loved her and that you’d follow her to the edge of the earth if she asked you to?
At the absurdity of her question, you really couldn’t help but laugh. You stood up and shuffled behind her before you threw your arms around Alexia’s neck, draping yourself over her broad back, which made the swing move forward. The dampness of her hair felt cool against your cheek, the scent of your shampoo that clung to them filled your senses as you chuckled into her ear. 
“Why are you laughing? I’m serious!”
“Because, Alexia, do you hear yourself? I love you, you idiot!” You giggled again. “I know our friendship isn’t that shallow that I’d lose you over this. Or am I wrong?”
Alexia turned her head and you saw a hint of a smile on her lips. “No, I suppose not.”
A pleasant silence blanketed you both. And then Alexia hummed.
“But if there was something that could break us, what do you think it would be?”
You stopped to ponder, twirling a lock of Alexia’s hair with your finger, noting her hair was nearly dry now. When your mind drew blank, you replied nonchalantly, “Honestly, I have no idea.”
“Good.” Alexia leaned away so she could give you a lopsided smile—an earnest one. “Because me neither.”
[4]
“—you okay?”
You blinked and turned to Alexia. “Hmm?”
She glanced at you for a moment before she turned back to what she was doing, sleeves rolled up as she scrubbed a plate in the soapy water in the sink.
“I said, are you okay? Is there something wrong? You’ve been out of it since practice.” When a moment of silence lapsed, Alexia added, “And don’t think I didn’t notice you on your swing the past few days, too, because I did.”
You looked out the window and watched how the rain sluiced down the glass pane. In the darkness behind the window, you saw glimpses of soaked, curly locks and heard the hasty confession all over again.
You sighed, blinking the memory away.
“Guille asked me out.”
The sound of glass shattering and metal clanging made you jump, and you watched as a casserole pot twirled like a top on the hard, kitchen floor, while fragments of a broken plate skittered out to different directions. 
“Oh, shit!” Alexia cursed, looking down at the mess, while a voice called out from the living room. 
“Alexia, is everything alright in there?'' Came Eli’s voice. A few seconds later, Jaume’s head popped into the kitchen. He glanced at you then his eyes settled on Alexia who was crouched down, looking up guiltily at her father.
“Are you okay, girls?”
“Yes, Papá. I just… dropped some stuff.” Alexia said. You crouched down, too, about to pick up a fragment when Jaume spoke.
“Don’t pick that up, love, you might cut yourself. I’ll do it.” 
Jaume shooed the two of you to a corner he deemed safe and the both of you watched as he picked up the pieces, throwing them in the bin by the back door. Afterwards, he gave Alexia a kiss on her temple, and you a hug and a ruffle to your hair, as he retired for the evening, leaving the two of you again in your own company. Alexia went back to the sink to finish up whatever was left, and you returned to your place on the counter beside her. 
The silence that intruded was cut short by Alexia when she cleared her throat, “So… what did you say?” 
“I haven’t said anything, yet,” you sighed again, looking back out the window, the questions coming back full force. In the eight years you’d known Guille, how long had he harbored those feelings for you? When did it happen? What did you do to make him feel that way?
“Do you like him?” Alexia’s question brought you back to the present.
“I don’t know.”
“Do you want him?”
“Isn’t that the same thing?” You laughed slightly, glancing back at Alexia who shrugged her shoulders in answer.
“No, I don’t think so. Desire is a drive, like it makes you want to act. Attraction is just… I don’t know how to explain it, but it’s a weaker feeling. And they complement each other but they’re not the same.”
“And you know this how exactly?” You asked her teasingly, a brow raised.
Alexia averted her eyes, and shrugged your question off with a laugh.
In the moment of silence that followed, you traced Alexia’s profile, and your gaze ended at the elegant curve of the bow of her lips. She looked so pretty casted in the candescent glow of the kitchen light that it made your chest ache just by looking at her. You dropped your eyes to your feet as your mind ran faster than before this entire conversation happened.
Clutching your arms tightly across your chest, you muttered, “I don’t know what I want.” 
[5]
Maybe hoping it would all turn out fine was a bit naive because naturally, Guille didn’t take your rejection well. It was your fault really for expecting otherwise but nevertheless, the inevitable discomfort of disappointment settled like lead in your gut. 
The thing was, you were ready to give Guille the space he needed to accept your boundaries—friends, or nothing at all—and to heal. But accusing Alexia of making you turn against him? Now, that was something you couldn’t let pass. 
He knew he’d crossed a line, too, with the way he kept avoiding you. At first, the silence didn’t bother you; he was hurt, after all. But when the apology never came, you understood that you’d be going through your last year of high school without your closest friend there by your side.
A fortnight passed without any word from him so it surprised you when he showed up at the local meetup that the three of you used to go to. He refused to meet your eyes but he had no problem leveling with the glares Alexia kept giving him. And when you ended up in Alexia’s team, the only sign of his distaste about it was the way his lips flattened to a line. He looked like he was about to say something, but with a slight shake of his head, he turned around and made his way to his teammates.
With one last look at Guille’s retreating back, you tuned back in your team’s conversation.
“—doesn’t need to play keeper. We need her more in the offensive.” Alexia said evenly but when you met her eyes, there was a clear question in them. 
You gave her a slight nod to let her know you were okay. 
She nodded back.
“How will that work? She’s the better keeper.” And then Marco added, “No offense, Julia.” 
Julia only shrugged carelessly, a gesture of nonchalance.
“Julia is perfectly fine and besides, with you, Benji, and Carmen, our backline is already strong. The four of you together lessens our chance of conceding.” Alexia paused, looking over her shoulder to the other team before she faced you all again, continuing, “Our priority is the offensive. What good is a strong backline if we can’t counterattack? That’s why I’m suggesting she play as forward in the meantime, while Martina and I will play as interiors. Does that make sense?”
A collective nodding occurred.
“So just to clarify, we’re playing three–two–one?” Benji asked.
Alexia hummed, nodding her head. “Mostly. If we find the space and some opportunities, we can easily do three–one–two.”
“No pressure on us defenders, right?” Carmen said with a laugh, if not with a hint of nerve. 
Everyone laughed but at the end of it, Alexia placed a hand on Carmen’s shoulder. “No pressure because you guys, as I said, are very strong. You got this.”
Carmen smiled at Alexia at that, nodding before she finally moved to her spot. As you and Alexia moved towards the middle of the pitch, Guille was introduced to your line of sight, and a weight pressed in your gut. Disappointment? Perhaps. Or maybe you just actually missed talking and hanging out with him.
Alexia’s teasing tone pulled away your attention from Guille.  “I hope you haven’t forgotten how to play forward from all the keeping you’ve been doing.”
“Four years of keeping against the five years of playing forward? You need to brush up on your math ‘cause I think you’ve forgotten how to count.” You said dryly, giving her a look so dirty that had her throwing her head back in laughter.
Alexia leveled you with an unimpressed look but her tone remained playful. “You are such a bitch sometimes. You know that, right?”
“Thank you. I do try, you know. It’s my only defense against your smart-mouth.”
“Stop denying you don’t like my teasing.” Alexia waggled her brows as she smirked. The way she looked just then—with both hands on her hips, the ball beneath her left boot—your throat dried, heart racing; a sensation that’d familiarized itself to you during its recurrent visits over the past few weeks. Your mind blanked out, clear as the white of Alexia’s shirt, and when no words came to you to retort back, you shook your head and just laughed. By the time the game started—or maybe it was because it started—the feeling finally went away, replaced by the adrenaline that shot through your veins the moment Alexia kicked the ball to you.
It proved to be a tight game. The main strategy of the opposition seemed to be to mark and shut you and Alexia down whenever the ball so much turned your way. Alexia was right to trust your backline: any counterattack from the other team was dealt with immediately, and Julia only needed to save a handful of shots that passed through your defense, which she handled well.
At last, your team finally made a breakthrough.
Alexia cut a diagonal through the box, taking two of the defenders as she did, freeing up the space just behind her. You knew what she was doing so you faked a sidestep, turning quickly to lose your marker, before you sprinted in towards the middle of the box. And as you anticipated, Alexia sent the ball back to you with a flick of her heel. Now, if you could just—
The ground tilted, and there was a moment where the whole world suspended. It lasted for less than a breath before everything—the sensations and sounds—came rushing back in.
You slammed to the ground. 
Air was squeezed out of your lungs from the impact, while your skull and teeth rattled within the confines of your skin; the taste of green, earth, and copper spread on your tongue. Muffled shouts and grunts filtered past the ringing in your ear but when you cupped a hand over your tender ribs, your resulting groan was all you could hear.
When you finally came to, Alexia’s face was over you, the doubled image of her finally merging into one. Her wide, hazel eyes looked on you with worry and you felt the warmth of her fingers as they grazed over your face: from your temples down to your cheeks which she took in a gentle cradle.
“Alexia?” You let out another groan as you turned on your back while Alexia helped you.
“Tell me where it hurts.”
There was a tension that constricted around the front part of your head, but you could feel the blood pulsing most on the side that collided with the ground. “My head… it hurts.”
“Okay, okay. Just lay down for now, I’ll get you…”
You seemed to have passed out after that because one moment you were lying on the fields, and the next you were beside Alexia on her living room couch. You had a vague recollection of being carried on Alexia’s back, but the feel of the strong plane of her shoulder against your cheek remained there, warm and comforting. 
And only then, after Eli gave you ice for your head, did you see the bruise that bloomed deep in the skin of Alexia’s jaw, just below her left cheek, and the scuffed knuckles of her right hand which were splotched with deep reds and purples.
You took her hand onto your lap, gently running over the ice for your head over her knuckles, while you looked at Eli sitting on the opposite couch with Jaume beside her. Eli’s face burnt redder than you’d ever seen before, while Jaume held onto her hand, circling his thumb over the top of it in an attempt to calm her down.
Alexia remained quiet the whole time, eyes casted down as she took her mother’s reprimanding words. There was the unmistakable shine of shame in them, her guilt, but also an unwavering quality that stood for what she did. At the end of it, Eli and Jaume hugged the both of you before letting you retreat into Alexia’s room as you waited for your parents to arrive.
Instead of getting on her bed with you, Alexia plopped down on the floor just by the foot of the bed, her back against the wooden bedframe. You regarded the back of her head, her neck curved downwards, and you suddenly felt the need to be close to her so you shuffled off her sheets, and got down beside her. 
“Thank you, but your mother was right, you know? You shouldn’t have done it, Alexia.” You mumbled, unfurling her fingers to rest on your knee so you could access more of her knuckles that way. Gently, you placed ice over it, but she still hissed in pain. “You shouldn’t have punched him.”
“Why not? He deserved it.” Alexia said evenly as she stared at the far corner of the room. “And before you start defending him, you didn’t see what I saw—what the rest of us saw. He didn’t even touch the ball—it was all feet. He meant to trip you up.” 
Warmth bloomed in your chest at her words—at how her action showed just how much you meant to her—but the discomfort in your gut marred the surge of your affection for her. 
You took a deep breath, sighed it out, and it tasted like disappointment. 
“Alexia, I appreciate the gesture, I do. But you can’t just hurt people just because they did something to me.” 
Alexia puffed her chest and proclaimed, “I can.”
“Stop that nonsense, Alexia. I mean it.” Firmer now, you said, and there was a hint of desperation in the intonation of your words. There was an urgent need to make Alexia understand the gravity of what she did, what future implications it held if what Eli and you told her didn’t sink in now. “Actions like this can jeopardize you, Alexia, and all the things you worked hard for. Do you understand that? What will Alejandro say when he sees you all bruised up next practice? And if I get tackled dirty during a game and I get hurt, would you risk a red card, or suspension, for behaving like this?”
Alexia became silent, the muscle in her jaw working, and when she turned to you with her mouth open and you spotted a defiant crease in her brows, you were quick to stop her.
“If the answer to that question isn’t no, Ale, I don’t want to hear it.” The sound of teeth clattering filled the air. She casted her gaze aside again, her cheeks growing a shade deeper. “Look at me, Alexia.”
When she kept her eyes glued to the floor, you dropped the ice pack to take her face in your hands. She flinched from the coldness of your fingers but as you looked into her eyes, rimmed with redness and framed by drooping eyelids, you found exhaustion and the shine of apology. You brushed away a matted lock of hair from the tail end of her brow.
“You have a good heart, Alexia, but you have to promise me. Please don’t do something like this again. Ever.” 
Alexia looked into your eyes, deeply as if in contemplation, and then she closed them. A moment later, she sighed, sagging into your touch as if a weight had left her shoulders, before she opened them again. 
“I promise.” 
This time, you believed her.
Smiling softly at her, you whispered, while you placed a light kiss on her cheek. “Thank you.”
Settling into the moment, you rested your head against Alexia’s shoulder, her bruised hand in yours. In the brief silence before your father arrived to pick you up, Alexia spoke in an earnest tone that made your stomach flutter.
“I know you can handle yourself, but that won’t stop me from having your back.”
At her words, your heart felt like it would burst your chest open. And you should’ve known that this was where you’d end up—with her, it seemed inevitable anyway—because the years of you’d known Alexia flashed quickly before your eyes, and the memory stopped to this person beside you, haloed golden by the warm glow of her bedside lamp, and you were hit with a realization that took what little breath you had away.
You liked Alexia.
And, even more importantly, you want her.
[6]
When you got on the field in a Barça jersey for the first time after your return, you didn’t expect to be welcomed like you did. Jona subbed you on after the first half and as you left the tunnel, you heard the crowd chanting your name. The cheers made you feel excited, accepted and seen, but you’d be lying if you said that it didn’t pressure you at all.
It was originally intended for you to come on during the last twenty minutes, but seeing as Caro, Patri, and Alexia gave the team a comfortable enough lead, Jona decided to sub you on ahead of schedule. You didn’t see much action on your end though, something that you didn’t mind at all—a quiet defensive-third was the best kind. The midfielders kept the midline high to sustain pressure in the offensive-third, while the defenders maintained such a tight backline that any loose through-balls sent to the opposing runners were called offside. Of course, there were a handful of times when you needed to get out of your box to ping the ball back into the offensive, but other than that, it was quiet. When the match ended, you were satisfied that Barça had another clean sheet and four goals to add to the season tally.
For the celebration, you moved with your teammates around Estadi Johan Cruyff, and during the procession, you spied your parents, Eli, and Alba who was talking to a raven-haired woman you’d never seen before, clapping and cheering. Warmth filled you upon seeing your family in the stands again—such a scene was a luxury when you were in the States because plane tickets weren’t exactly cheap—and when you felt the familiar weight of Alexia’s arm slung over your shoulders, the fabric of her captain armband against the skin of your neck, it felt like a perfect homecoming.
Well, almost.
After you’d showered and changed to your casuals, most of the crowd had gone while some lounged about, one of which was the raven-haired woman Alba was talking to. When Alexia took her hand, you knew instantly, and your heart—damn your heart—dropped.
“This is Diana,” Alexia said after the both of them made their way to you. And if it wasn’t their intertwined hands that revealed what they were to each other, their gaze—saccharine when they met—made it all the more clear the nature of their relationship long before Alexia said the words, “my girlfriend.”
Diana beamed up at Alexia, her cheeks deepening in color before she regarded you again, sticking her hand out towards you to shake. Preceding the intention, you took her hand and when you did, Diana placed her other hand over yours, clasping your hand between her warm palms.
“It’s so nice to finally meet you. Alexia’s talked so much about you.” 
She did? Your eyes flitted to Alexia but when she shied away from that, you focused back on Diana’s face. She was stunning: with her high cheekbones carved to elegance, her brows following the perfect line of her temple, her full lips painted with a terracotta shade made deeper by the bronze of her skin, while her loose, straight, raven hair framed her face in such a way that accentuated the sharpness of her jaws. Her eyes were dark but still light enough to see the outline of her pupils, and they had an amiable shape that reflected her warm nature. And for some reason, her light brown eyes looked really familiar—
“Ah! My favorite cousin made it, after all! Although I’m not sure it was me you went to the game for!” Tori’s playful voice resonated in the near-barren corridor. Diana’s eyes flicked somewhere behind you—to Tori, you supposed.
“Don’t be like that, Tori, of course I came to see you, too!”
“Lies!”
Diana shook her head, laughing, as she took Tori in her arms. “Come here, you!”
In response, Tori said something in Portuguese that made Diana laugh. When they broke apart, Diana said, “Forget you? Never. Especially when I owe you one.”
“Owe her what?” Alexia asked with her brows creased with curiosity.
Diana took Alexia’s hand and squeezed it, looking up at Alexia with a gentle expression. “For giving us the chance to meet.”
“Damn right!” Tori exclaimed, putting both hands on her hips, as she grinned so wide that her dimple showed. Tori must’ve seen your confusion because she leaned in to whisper, “I brought Diana as my plus one for last year’s Ballon D’Or ceremony.”
You allowed your mouth to drop open before you smiled, letting out a small laugh that made your chest ache. “Ah, I see.”
“She kept complaining about going but now, aren’t you grateful I took you away from your precinct, Detective Beauregard?” Tori teased.
“She’s never going to let us live this down, will she?” Diana muttered dryly to Alexia but it was deliberately loud enough for all of you to hear. In response, Alexia threw her head back laughing. 
“You’re a detective? That’s amazing!” You said, impressed.
“Please, Tori’s exaggerating. I work in forensics. DNA analyst is the correct title.” Diana threw Tori a dirty look to which the other woman raised her shoulders in response. “It’s a whole different world compared to yours so—and please don’t let this get to your head, Tori—I am grateful I was able to step into it.”
Her eyes, still locked with Alexia’s, grew all the more soft.
“Get a room, you guys,” Tori said with a mock sound of disgust, and then she continued to mutter, “And to think that you’ve only been going out for four months… I don’t even want to think about how it will be like in another three months.”
At that, Alexia raised a brow and then, “Want to do some extra laps tomorrow?”
You and Tori knew Alexia was joking, but Tori being Tori, she spluttered, “That would be a hard no, Captain. I’ll just—Have a great night!” 
With that, she ran away, arms flailing behind her in an exaggerated manner as she hastily made her exit. The sight drew laughter from the three of you.
“We’re having dinner at Mamá’s, want to come over?” Alexia asked.
You shook your head, flashing a look at Diana, before you told Alexia,“Not tonight. I’m just about to head over to my parents’ as well.”
“Alright. But Alba’s going to ask about you, you know? I think she wants to hang  out with you.”
You laughed. “Tell her to text me. She’ll know what that means.”
“Is that something I should know about?” Alexia smirked.
Flatly, you retorted, “If it’s something that concerns you, I’d be telling you by now, right?” 
“You see what I have to deal with?” Alexia told Diana, almost whining.
Inching backwards, you said as dry as you could manage, “I’ll take that as my queue to leave, Alexia might start crying. She’s a crybaby, you know?” 
“Hey! I’m not—”
“No need to be embarrassed about it, Alexia. Be proud!”
Diana only laughed, saying, “Alright, kids, I think that’s enough for tonight.”
Nodding, you grinned at Alexia while she mouthed the word ‘bitch’ to you. In kind, you mouthed ‘smartmouth’ back. With a shake of her head and a smile, she gave you one last hug, and after a pleasant goodnight from Diana, the three of you parted ways.
You sent them a look over your shoulder, catching a glimpse of the watch around Alexia’s left wrist. It glinted as they walked together down the corridor, hand in hand, looking as in love as any new couple would. 
The sight made you smile, but it felt heavy, and as if the universe wanted to rub salt to the wound, you found Patri outside the locker room when you turned around with a look akin to pity in her eyes.
[7]
The next day, Guille stopped by at your place. He’d given you notice a few days prior but even still, the moment you saw him behind the door, you squealed like you were ten again from your excitement. After you hugged him tight—he made a choking noise when you did to tease you—you held him at arm’s length to see what changes the last few months had done to him.
He looked different. Gone were the long, dark curls; now sheared close to his scalp that left only about an inch of length, his hair retained their luscious shine, their color still as dark as night. 
His scar—the one just by the tail end of his left brow—that used to see little light from the obstruction of his hair, now stood apparent and without meaning to, the day he got it came back to you: the bruised knuckles, ice-cold fingers, and the warm blush of a lamplight.
 And your chest ached a little.
Leading the conversation to the living room, the two of you ended up ordering takeaways—mostly for Guille’s benefit because you weren’t about to subject him to your football diet—and as you ate, the two of you caught up.
Guille was close to finishing his dissertation—the biomechanics of concussion in sport and its neurocognitive implications—and he was both excited and fearful about what would come next. He then talked about his girlfriend, Iris, smittenly if you might add. She was actually with him in the city, but his mother insisted she steal Iris for the day for some quality bonding, and you laughed at the repertoire of stories he’d relayed in great detail about his mother’s teasing of their relationship.
“When am I going to meet Iris?” You asked with a teasing tone.
He rolled his eyes, “Well, since you’re actually staying in Barcelona this time, we can arrange that.”
A pause, and then, “Is Alexia staying here, too, or are you here by yourself?”
“No, it’s just me here.”
“Oh. I thought the two of you’d be rooming again like—” Probably seeing your change in demeanor, Guille cleared his throat as he ate his pasta a bit too eagerly. “Speaking of, how is she?”
The question was casual but you knew it was anything but.
“She’s doing good, if not a little stressed. Our first Champions League game is just around the corner after all and it’s against Chelsea, so.” You shrugged to complete your thought. You knew what he was asking but you’d rather not talk about that.
His eyes could burn a hole on the side of your head by the way he stared at you in the silence that followed. Then he sighed deeply.
“She still doesn’t know.”
Tension filled every inch of your body and you shrank tight as a coiled spring. You stood up as you felt a sudden urge to get away from him, taking the used plates on the coffee table as a pretense to move from the couch to the sink.
“What’s it to you if she doesn’t know, Guille?” You asked flatly, rolling up your sleeves after you turned the tap on.
“I just want you to be happy. Is that so wrong?”
“And who says I’m not?” Your tone was flat and when you glanced at him over your shoulder, Guille only gave you a pointed look.
Then he said softly, “She could make you happier and you know it.”
And there it was again, that look in his eyes that you just couldn’t stand. Gritting your teeth, you gripped the edge of the sink and your voice quaked when you spoke. “Please stop talking like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like,” you tried to find the words but when they evaded you, you huffed and threw your hands up in the air. “Why are you making it sound like I have a chance?”
“Because you do! You’re the one who’s not giving Alexia a chance by not telling her.”
“Give me one good reason why I should.”
“She loves you.”
A pause.
“That’s bullshit.” You shook your head, letting out a small, disbelieving laugh. As much as your heart wanted that to be true, you knew otherwise.
“It’s really fucking not.” Guille countered.
“If she did, she wouldn’t have said what she did.” 
“People say stupid shit when they’re drunk.”
“That can go the other way, too. Alcohol has a way of loosening what’s been bottled.”
“Oh, come on!” Guille scoffed. “You’ve known her since you were eight. You’ve been through thick and thin together! Do you really think she wanted you to leave?”
With the reminder, the memory sprung up on you and you could hear Alexia’s voice, grating and wrenching your heart raw again when you heard the words from her lips. You whirled around to face him, eyes burning.
“You weren’t there when she told me, Guille!” You breathed out sharply and then you continued, in a lower tone filled with resignation, you whispered as you buried your face in your palms. “You didn’t hear the way she said it. You didn’t—”
You choked on your words. 
After all this time, it was still too painful.
Darkness filled your vision but the tears escaped nonetheless, branding tracks down your cheeks. You heard the rustling of clothes followed by soft footsteps. Before you knew it, Guille’s arms wrapped around your shoulders and his familiar, comforting scent made you sink into the embrace.
“You’re right. I wasn’t there. But if you could forgive me for being an asshole and what I did to you, why can’t you do the same with her?”
You didn’t say anything after that, only clutched at his shirt a little tighter.
Guille kept quiet, too.
The both of you knew just the reason why.
[8]
“Did you see the news?” Jona asked as he kept the door open for you to an empty meeting room, closing it as soon as you’d gone in. 
Sitting down on one of the cushioned chairs, you said, “I did.”
You saw it this morning and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t faze you. 
Jona nodded, taking the chair across the table from you. He put his clasped hands on the wooden surface and the way he tapped an erratic rhythm with his thumbs didn’t help your nerves.
“Lyon paid a hefty transfer fee for her and that makes me worried. I don’t know what Bompastor is planning to do with her but her transfer to the European league will be a concern for the club.” With a pensive crease appearing between his brows, he continued. “You probably know why I asked you to come in.”
“You want me to tell you what I know about her.”
He nodded, leaning forward as if to emphasize his point. “She’s a lethal forward and you’re the only one in the club who’s ever played with her. In fact, you two seemed very close during your time in Angel City.”
You crossed your arms, leaning back into your chair, frowning slightly. “I don’t know what you’re trying to say.”
Jona blinked at you.
Then slowly, “Surely you must’ve trained closely together considering she’s a forward and you’re a keeper? Unless training was vastly different in Angel City, then I’m sorry for the assumption.”
“O–Oh, I thought you were implying—” You shook your head, uncrossing your arms as you waved the rest of your sentence away. “Never mind. But yes, that’s right.”
Jona gave you another questioning look before speaking again. 
“She’s going to be a big problem. And that’s why I’m going to change things up a bit. I want to put you in the starting lineup as soon as possible—put as many games with our current team under your belt. We’ll most likely face Lyon in the Quarters and that’s unfortunate but what is great is that you’re here: the best counter to what Lyon acquired. If we could eliminate Lyon early, we have a higher chance of winning this year’s Champions League. The question is, are you ready for it?”
“That’s what I’m here for, Jona.” You said seriously, ignoring the pressure that pressed in the periphery of your mind.
“Use me.”
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gadzooksgalore · 7 months
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Depression has been kicking me in the butt lately so I decided to make a little pill bug friend for myself using this pattern by @livvi3love. I changed a couple details to fit my own preferences (like sewing the legs rather than using felt) and I'm very happy with the result! I've been wanting an isopod plushie for a while so it was fun to make my own :>
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wispscribbles · 1 year
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Need to print this out and put it on my wall
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zivazivc · 4 months
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my brainrot about these two can be measured in liters
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ohimsummer · 2 months
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day 9283 of waiting for a drabble of reader dying and satoru is trying to bake treats that they used to make and breaking down when he just can't get it right i've been craving satoru angst sm
— angst (no comfort <3 ), character death (reader), satoru x reader (established rs), kinda proofread
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satoru’s bottom lip trembles as he stares at the half-eaten cookie in his hand. too fucking salty, he thinks. first it was too much baking powder, then too much flour. somehow he burned the bottoms but not the top. now they’re too bitter. he has to spit it out in the trash and satoru glances at the salt and sugar right next to each other amongst the mess he’s made on the counter.
he slams the cookie down, spraying out crumbs to scatter onto the floor, and satoru heaves a large sigh as he leans against the wall. baking is hard, he’s never been a good cook. that was your expertise. he loved to come home to new pastries and desserts you were excited to show him, shoving brownies and cookies and tarts between his lips as soon as he was settled after work.
to say he misses you is the understatement of the century. satoru damns the tragedy that took you away, because now he’s pathetic. he’s stuck sitting alone on the floor, chest stuttering and teeth sunk into his lip, holding back tears because it’s so fucking hard to just make a cookie how you used to make it.
the frustration finally boils over. satoru buries his face in his palms, leaned forward against his knees. the tears are endless, streaming down his cheeks. he feels inadequate and defeated. it’s been three months since he started trying to bake, and a year after your death. satoru regrets not doing a number of things before you passed, but one of them is not learning to bake with you. maybe if he spent less time sneaking chocolate chips from the bag and focusing on your measurements, how much of this or that that you used to sprinkle in, it wouldn’t be taking him god damn forever to learn how to bake chocolate chip cookies. not just from scratch, but exactly how you used to do it.
it’s all bullshit. it’s unfair. you didn’t deserve to be ripped away so soon. satoru didn’t deserve to have you taken from him so soon, in the blink of an eye. you were supposed to still be here, squeezed between his arms and helping him laugh away his mistakes. if you were here, it wouldn’t hurt so much that he couldn’t get these cookies perfect. in fact, it wouldn’t hurt at all, because you’d be thumping him on the head before he poured too much salt. you’d be here to wrestle the chocolate chips from him because ‘he’s using them all’. you’d be here to guide his hand and show him how to do things.
but you’re not here. the knowledge of your recipes has died with you. he sniffs and he whimpers and he cries, but you won’t be coming to tell him it’s alright. satoru can only sit and stare at the complete disarray of the kitchen. all with nothing to show for it.
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🍪: @anthoosies @staryukis @deepenthevoid @bubblez-blop @luvvmae @risuola @bunnymacaron @hellkaiserinphoenix @lxnarphase @cinnamoneve @satoruxsc @rosso-seta @angelina7890 @starlightanyaaa @domainexpansionmypants @neptuneblue @biscuitsngravie @babytoshiii @kissesfrombelle @v0ctin @purplegemadventures @luvvforliaa @apatauaia @sataraxia @leilalilox @sugu-love @manyno @the-monster-under-the-bed @kisstoru @blindbabycadder
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kifkay · 2 months
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Winx memes once again
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ninjasmudge · 10 months
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When Macaque can take his relationship with Sun Wukong falling apart better than Megatron does with Optimus.
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why cant you be more like macaque, he just beat some people up and put on plays until he felt better
anyway enjoy this niche crossover
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fatedroses · 3 months
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Finally I can post the comic for Adventurer!Zenos that has taken hold of my brain for the past week.
AKA a man who is currently running off the fumes of the literal souls of the damned being very desperate to be out of the void he was stuck in (and for the first time actually being able to just enjoy something mundane), only to get absolutely overwhelmed but all the stimuli he had just... ignored until now.
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anneapocalypse · 4 months
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Tired of the false dichotomy between "you should create for yourself without desiring any form of connection" and "feedback is everything and without it there's no reason to create." Neither of these things are wholly true, and it's frustrating to me that people have taken "create for yourself" to mean "you shouldn't want feedback or enjoy it, you should create in a vacuum with no hope of human connection" and are lashing back against what they think it's saying rather than what it's actually saying. I love comments and feedback and connecting with my readers as much as anyone and would never discount the value of that experience and I try to be the kind of engaged reader I would want to have because I know how much it means. I especially know how much it means to a niche creator because I've been that creator myself and I so treasure the readers who took a chance, gave my stuff a try, and stopped to say something supportive about it.
But that's also exactly the thing: the things I want to write are often things that do not in any way guarantee me an audience, but they're what I enjoy, and creating for myself is what gets me through those long first drafts where I know there is no guarantee of an audience because the reality is I'm choosing to write this thing and nobody owes me a readership. Internal motivation matters because there are parts of the creative process where internal motivation is all you have. I've seen people give up or nearly give up on projects that probably would have found an audience, if a niche one, because they convinced themselves that nobody would care and then couldn't motivate themselves to care. Or they decided that a small audience wasn't good enough; they need their work to be Popular or it was worth nothing.
And if someone doesn't want to invest themselves in creating something that might have a small audience, well, that's their choice. But creativity is inherently an act of risk, and a lot of amazing art would never be made if the creator wasn't willing to risk silence, rejection, loneliness. Yeah, those things suck. I'm not saying they don't, that's why it's a risk. But art isn't always about safety. Sometimes it's about creating because you simply have to get this thing out of your head, and you hope someone will connect with it, but you don't know until you try. So everything can't be external motivation. It just can't be. It's too limiting, it's too stifling. I can't live that way, personally.
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philosophiums · 4 months
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jjk atla au fic in the works!!!!
title: Like the Moon Haunts the Sun
@hinamie and i have been feverishly working hand in unsleeping hand on this, and, after extensive plotting and scene ideas volleyed between us, i have finally started writing. i am being consumed by this au firstly, if you haven't seen hina's concept art for the AU yet, find them here: main trio, gojo/choso/nanami, mahito/geto/yuta, yuji/sukuna/karucchi
i don't have a nice clean summary right now, BUT the non-spoiler-y gist is that it's going to follow yuji on his journey around the atla map, mastering the elements and taking on his role as the avatar. megumi, nobara, and yuji's owltiger, karucchi, will be with him every step of the way. and if he has to stop the nefarious plans of a certain corpse-possessing spirit, well... he'll do that, too.
we're pulling from both jjk and atla/lok canon and making something that's a pretty solid balance of both instead of strictly being jjk characters shoved into designated roles a la atla/lok. there will be some bends and some breaks in the way the atla world works, but canon is, after all, just a sandbox, and we came equipped with a shovel >:)
my goal is to write the fic in four parts (i'm aiming for like 50k words but who knows!), and i will start posting to ao3 once part one is done, just to give myself breathing room for chapter updates !!!
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