#agere drabbles

[regressionworldz]

I’m planning to do an Age Regression story with Poppy Playtime based a lot on your art. I hope to send you what it got at a later date can you expand more on the Age Regression on your version for poppy playtime?

WAAAA, I’d be so happy if you made a story, seriously!! I’d reblog it so fast, I hope you go through with it,,

Also, absolutely! I can expand more on the Age Regression in my AU!

As I’ve mentioned before, the protagonist in this AU is an age regressor, and quite young at that. They tend to regress involuntarily, particularly when surrounded by positive or negative triggers, resulting in moments where they enter a childlike headspace. (Their regression age is somewhere around 0-3) 

This involuntary age regression significantly impacts the behavior of the creatures within the facility, leading to a complex array of reactions.

For instance, during encounters with Huggy Wuggy, the protagonist's regression triggers a profound change in perception. Despite being an adult, they are perceived as a child by Huggy Wuggy and other creations within the facility. This perception shift is consistent among all the creatures, who consequently treat the protagonist as a vulnerable child.

The best way I can describe the impact of age regression on the creatures is a nullifying effect. Rather than succumbing to their inherently sadistic tendencies, the creatures become markedly gentler and more nurturing. They instinctively adopt a protective and nurturing role towards the protagonist, exhibiting behaviors akin to caregiving.

With more formidable creatures like CatNap, the influence of the protagonist's age regression might not immediately manifest due to their heightened resistance. However, over time, even CatNap succumbs to a nurturing instinct towards the protagonist, albeit retaining a mischievous demeanor. Nonetheless, the protagonist will remain unharmed, with CatNap's antics posing nothing more than occasional playful disruptions.

In summary, within the world of Poppy Playtime, whenever your character regresses in front of the creatures, they universally perceive and treat you as a child. Hopefully this explains how the regression works in this AU!

[softpawpup]

— regression shopping day

going out while regressed, dressed up your cutest clothes. your caregiver helped do your hair and you feel adorable. you go to the store, hand in hand with your caregiver. you walk around and take your time eyeing everything on all the shelves. you’re looking at bottles, toys, stuffies, blankies, pacis, snacks. all sorts of goodies for kiddos like you. theres something for any kind of regressor here, including you. your favorite flavors, your favorite colors, your favorite animals. all sorts of goodies that you can bring home. your caregiver helps you pick out the best options. a few new stuffies, plenty of snacks to last for a bit, a new bottle, two new pacis and of course some new toys! a whole haul! a new collection of fun things! the cashier bags up all your stuff and your caregiver helps you carry it back to the car. the moment you get home everything is washed and cleaned and prepared for playing. and of course you spend the rest of the day playing with all your new goodies.

[impish-baby]

Platonic yandere "friend" group...they're essentially bullies but they're just nice enough to keep you wondering if maybe you're just being sensitive when they're mean (maybe they're like stereotypical popular kids and you're a bit of an outcast..)

Sorry, they'd invite you to go with to the mall but they kinda wanted it to be just them :((

You can totally come hang out at Hannah's after though!! :D You're not upset, right? You understand? Giving you a playful nudge that's a little too rough.. (snickering about it when you're gone, how can someone be so naive? It's funny)

Getting mad when you start turning them down instead, who do you think you are? Seriously? What makes you think you can say no when they're so graciously willing to spend time and money on you?

They don't buy your lame ass excuses, you're a horrible liar. You're hanging out with some other dweeb over them. Over them. After they've done so much for you!

It's ridiculous, really. You think you aren't their friend? Stammering and fidgeting all pathetic as you try to stick up for yourself, yeah ok. They'll show you just how kind they where being, you can learn how good you had it before you decided to be a brat

[wetbatinthenight]

dad, who notices that you are starting to branch out and make friends in your clubs and isn’t liking the fact that his control on you is slipping.

dad, who doesn’t realize him constantly isolating you from your peers (except your loving dad and your mom who aids and believes in his beliefs too) since preschool doesn’t mean you don’t want connections.

you, who are now successful in school, in student council or debate or anything of the sort and now are trying to explore friendships outside of mandatory meetings and fundraising.

dad, that has always doted and babied you a bit but also puts pressure on you to do well and follow the rules, don’t mess up.

dad, who always has conflicting rules, you need to be independent and trustworthy but why can’t he do everything for you? dad, who wants you to be a successful and accomplished child of his but doesn’t let you hop on opportunities unless he allows you to (often school sanctioned where chaperones are everywhere, there has to be some sort of reasonable adult).

dad, who picks you up from school, if you don’t walk home or bus home, picks you up and all the school moms whisper about him (how charming, how mysterious, how dependable he probably is, how strong and intimidating he is, who is charming and people would not expect he wasn’t a normal handsome guy. family, who no one knows too much about and keeps the inner circle small, surface level coming off as the perfect family.

dad, who even now struggles with boundaries, also wanting to cuddle or snuggle. and you, who isn’t a touchy cuddly lovebug like you used to be, still struggling with expressing your emotions (even if you sometimes even want to accept his affection). he loves you and misses being able to connect with you. he never thought he would have a child but then he met your mom, and here you are, an extension of their love and his most precious thing.

dad, who isn’t sure what to do when he starts losing his influence, thinking to himself if he should get stricter (maybe he needs to check through your room more often when you are not home, or place stricter curfews, maybe having you home by seven is too late in the night).

dad, who always wants you to check in with him and spend time with him even though he is intimidating and awkward but also manipulative and charming, something you did not realize when you were a kid because you thought he was a regular loving dad.

you, who after learning more about people your age starts to wonder if the things your dad (and by extension mom does) is normal. it is all starting to feel off to you, making you nervous because you always blindly listened to your dad. I mean cmon, sure your dad was always…quirky, but he was your dad and he knew what was best, right? .

dad, who slowly starts to baby you more and more, trying to take care of your needs whether you like it or not. no, he can get you an after school snack after you walk through the front door (where he waits for you everyday if he isn’t busy at his job). it starts subtle at first.

dad, who immediately, like usual, asks if you spoke to anyone today, if you behaved like should’ve today, if you slept enough, if you are hungry. he doesn’t seem to mind when you interact with school staff.

dad, who immediately makes you sit on the couch and gets you something to eat, after making you give him your school bag and rummaging through it to make sure you don’t have anything you aren’t supposed to (even snacks or candy from peers).

dad, who always in monitoring you, making sure you do not interact with anything rated-R or anything he deems inappropriate, including the books you read. Say goodbye to whatever sci-fi or too intensely gory books you want to read (unless you read them at lunch or a free period at the school library like the clever thing you are).

dad, who starts to slowly try to regress you, even if he isn’t really aware of it at first. he just wants his good little child back, is that so wrong?

dad, who starts to display behaviors and if you ask about them, starts to gaslight and coo (compared to his old tactics) at you and redirect you to something different.

dad, who is manipulative, cunning, intimidating to most. dad, who most people would not suspect would engage in violent behaviors to ward off any “dangers”.

dad, who isn’t afraid to get rid of any “issue” he believes will come in between his and your family’s future.

dad, who of course was also not afraid in his youth to take severe actions towards conflict for your lovely mom, his sweet and caring wife.

dad, whose heart melts inside for his family, his lifeline, who wants to do what his believes to right for his family.

an: check out my page for more works!

[bamboobooshark]

LOGAN HOWLETT X LITTLE!READER

⊹ ࣪ ˖🐾₊˚ I DON'T PURR : 709 WRDS

INSPIRED BY @cloudbug08 ‘s CG LOGAN HEADCANONS ; DRABBLE |🐾| A/N : No one will ever stop me from making CG!/Dad!Logan fics. At all. Ever.

You’ve been regressed all day. Yesterday was a busy, stressful, overwhelming day, and now you’re coping with the stress. Logan is by your side, caring for you as usual. You lay on the living room floor’s carpet, tummy pressed to the ground, legs kicking up in the air. You breathe contently as you carefully color the page Logan printed out for you.

You could hear him in the bathroom down the corridor near the stairs. He was carefully grooming his hair while humming a tune that sounded a little too familiar. A soft smile crept onto your lips once you recognized it, it was the sound of your favorite cartoon’s intro. “I know that song,” you chirp, gaining a soft chuckle from the man. “You sure do, kiddo. So much that you’ve got me hummin’ it myself,” he replied. He set down the comb before letting out a soft sigh. The sound of his boots slightly clacking against the hardwood floor made you turn your head and giggle out of excitement when you see him. “Kitty hair! Kitty hair,” you exclaim. “Not kitty hair,” he corrected while shaking his head.

“Kitty hair” is what you’d call Logan’s hair any time he had it brushed up like little animal ears. As much as he denied that they were meant to be ears to represent any animal, he never truly cared that you called it kitty hair. He found it pretty cute and grew fond of the term.

“Can I pretty please play with it,” you plead, clasping your hands together. Logan shrugs in response. “I dunno, bubs,” he drags out playfully. “Pretty please? I promise I’ll get that one spot behind your ears that you really like,” you add in an attempt to get him to accept your request. He looks down at you sweetly, hands on his hips, one eyebrow cocked. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt,” he groans dramatically, feigning annoyance. “But you gotta clean up all that arts and crafts stuff you got going on.”

Without hesitation, you nod in agreement. You start to clean up your crayons and coloring pages with haste. Within minutes, you’re done putting everything up, now sat on the couch waiting for Logan to come lay his head on your lap. You stretch your hands out to him grasping the air between you two. “Calm down, kiddo. I’m coming,” he assures you. He walks closer to you, leans down to press a kiss to your forehead, slips off his boots, and lays his head in your lap. He shifts a bit to get more comfortable by putting one leg on top of the other and crossing his arms against his chest. “There you go, bubs,” he hums with a deep exhale. You squeal with excitement as you gently begin to play with his hair. You run your fingers through the strands, scratch his scalp, and when you scratch behind his ears, you hear something. Purring. He always purrs when you play with his hair for long enough.

“You purr,” you exclaim with a giggle and a huge grin on your face. Logan sighs in return. He shakes his head in denial “You’ve got it all wrong, kid. I don’t purr. Wolverines don’t purr. You’re making things up,” he protests against your previous claim.

You felt his throat vibrate softly against one of your thighs and listened closely. As you told him, he was purring.

“You purr like a kitty, then,” you chirp back. Another deep sigh. He’s not even annoyed with your claim. He knows you’re right. He just doesn’t want to admit to his kiddo that he purrs. “I don’t purr. I didn’t purr,” he states firmly. “It’s not right to lie to your papa,” he said with a light-hearted chuckle. “But you did! I promise,” you pout to him. “I’ll prove it,” you say before beginning to scratch at his scalp again.

Sure as hell, he purrs. He grumbles softly to interrupt his purrs in protest. You know you’ve won once you hear a soft sigh fall from his lips as you scratch right behind his ears. More purring. “Guess you’re right, bubs,” he chuckles softly while closing his eyes. “Just keep scratching. It feels nice,” he adds with a smile creeping onto his lips.

TAG LIST : @saronics

[miloscozycorner]

𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬.

Caregiver!Wanda Maximoff x Regressor!Reader

• After a meltdown makes you go nonverbal, Wanda helps you communicate your big feelings together.

cw: age regression

( 1109 Words )

The fuzzy carpet felt cool on your bare legs, your oversized shirt scrunching up and resting on your upper thighs. The room had grown chilly from Wanda opening the porch door just a crack, the wind sneaking its way into the living room.

Your tears had finally dried, your chin now resting on your crossed arms. It felt silly, the meltdowns. It just got all too much. The lights, the noises. Trying to make your brain be a bigger kiddo, make the words come out right.

But Wanda understood it all, of course. She always did. When the words had started to jumble on your tongue, and when with a cry of frustration you had given up, she was quick to sit. Quick to let you squeeze her hand until it grew pale.

“Hey bubby. I got you your cards.”

Wanda’s voice drew you out of your thoughts, and you craned your neck to see her patter towards you, taking a crossed legged seat on the carpet a few steps away from you.

“Mama even added some stickers,” she added, her lips curling upwards when you let out a soft giggle. Your eyes followed the stickers on the laminated cards, a variety of animals stuck on them.

You took a moment to shuffle through the cards, before picking one to show. The word “like” was printed on it in bold letters, with a galaxy themed background. Wanda had let you help make all the cards months ago.

With a tap, you showed Wanda the card, and she tilted her head towards the sticker arrangement. “You like the stickers, munchkin?”

An enthusiastic nod.

Wanda paused, spreading the cards before glancing at you. Her playful expression died down, her face turning a bit more serious. But the softness in her eyes and the gentle tilt of her lips remained.

“Do you want to talk to mama about those big feelings you had?” Wanda suggested, glancing up at you. You took a breath in, your brows furrowing while you searched for a card.

“Yes”.

Wanda nodded, shuffling in place. “Okay little one, good job using your cards!” she praised, not missing the ways your eyes lit up from it. “Now, can you tell me what was making those big feelings overflow?” she questioned, tilting her head.

You hesitated, chewing your bottom lip before answering. “Loud”. “Light”. “Hungry”.

“And all that together made you feel not so good, bunny?” You hummed in agreement, slightly frowning. Wanda was quick to notice, adding on reassurance. “And you know that’s okay, honey. I know it can get pretty overwhelming. But mama got you a snack, and a worksheet. How would you feel about trying that?”

There was a brief pause before you gave a nod of agreement, and observed Wanda stand up, disappearing for a moment down the hallway before coming back, a slip of paper and a box of crayons in hand and a bag of Goldfish in the other.

She sat down cross-legged once more, this time beside you instead of across from you. Your shoulders relaxed, a flutter in your stomach forming when she sat.

“Do you want to sit in mama’s lap? Or, we can sit beside each other and I can help you color.” Wanda offered, waiting for you.

For a moment it seemed she almost forgot until she added on, quick to repair her mistake. “Oh goodness! I’m sorry honey. Mama almost forgot you’re not up for words today. I know big words are difficult for tiny babies! How about you hold up one finger for sitting in my lap, and two for coloring together? Is that okay, little bird?”

You gave a small smile at her remembrance, before holding up one finger. Wanda’s lips curled upwards, grinning happily at you before scooping you under your arms and adjusting you to sit on her thigh. The scent of strawberry perfume calmed your senses further, any lingering weight on your chest fading away.

She stretched her arms over to the coffee table next to you, grabbing a hard-cover book and placing the sheet on top of it, before adjusting it so it was on top of your lap.

“Now, you see all these colors? We can use these colors to fill up the cup to show how you were feeling earlier. So, blue is for sad. Green is for scared. Red is for mad. Yellow is for embarrassed. Can you do that for me, honey?”

You gave a nod, picking out the green crayon first and allowing Wanda to sneak a couple Goldfish into your mouth to chew. Your hand hesitated, hovering over the paper before filling half the cup with green.

After a moment, you added some yellow. Your grip on the crayon grew more sturdy, less shaky.

Wanda watched carefully, helping you take more bites of your snack. Then a bit of blue, finishing the cup.

The crinkling of the Goldfish bag and the scents of the newly bought crayons made a soft smile tug at your lips just ever so slightly, the fear, the anxiety, everything, slipping out of your grasp.

You looked up at Wanda for approval, giggling when she gave you a wide grin.

Wanda gave a hum of approval, setting the empty bag of Goldfish down next to her as you showed the piece to her. “Wow, bubby! You did such a good job drawing out all of those big feelings for mama,” she praised, sticking a light kiss on your forehead.

She adjusted you momentarily, her strong arms lifting you gently under your armpits, settling you on her hip. The paper was placed neatly on the coffee table by the pack of crayons, and your deck of communication cards were placed in your hand.

“Do you want to go cuddle upstairs with mama?” Wanda offered, stopping by the kitchen to throw away your bag and glancing down at you.

You flipped through your cards. “Yes.” More shuffling. “Please.”

“Oh my, such a good job using your cards, bubba!” Wanda praised, beaming down at you and running slender fingers through your hair. “Come on, let mama give you lots of snuggles tonight.”

You felt your eyes grow a bit heavier, the feeling of soft hands supporting your weight and the sound of Wanda’s gentle footsteps with the creaking wooden stairs lulling you.

“It’s okay to sleep pumpkin, mama will be here when you’re up.” You heard Wanda mumble into your ear, the comforting warmth of her breaths fanning onto your cheek.

So, you allowed yourself to slip into a comforting sleep, free from the day’s stress, held in the love Wanda always gave so freely.

[the-universal-sun]

Sorry this took a bit, tumblr just straight up deleted half of what I had written and I had to have a bit of a cry before I got back into it. But! Thank you so much for the request, I hope you stuck around this long to see it through! I did have fun writing it, these two are so cute and stanley deserves all the care and love in the world! I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing it!

With all the Love in the World,

XX

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

"Okay now, Stanley, it's nap time. Go and pick out what book you want me to read to you since we finished the last one. Go on." Ford ushered his brother, who had been little for a better part of the day, towards their little book nook, it's just a small shelf Ford had put up with some books aimed towards young children, Stanley added some fairy lights to make it more fun. Ford did have to admit the lights were a nice touch, making it seem cozy and warm. They just finished reading Charlotte's Web last week, and Lee loved it for all that he cried during it. Ford was worried at first, thinking the book was too much, but once his brother was feeling bigger, he explained how crying did make him feel better, getting all those "icky feelings" out in a way that didn't involve hitting things. He still doesn't quite believe him, but he'll acquiesce for now.

Ford waits patiently, Lee wants to pick his books alone, the tone of the book deciding how he felt, how young he felt, in that moment. It's a good indicator, though he would love to help Lee pick put a book sometimes when he's feeling small, he can't help it, Lee always looks so cute when he's concentrating and trying to make a decision. If he was allowed, Ford would take a million photos of that face, alas, his Little brother is camera shy. A tugging at his sleeve pulls Ford's attention away from his thoughts, Lee holds a book out to Ford, looking down and his feet his face red. Ford commits that face to memory to draw later, he looks so cute. He wants to pinch his cheeks and kiss them. Moses, he's turning into Ma'. Ignoring those thoughts, Ford grabs the book, another small chapter book, and reads the title.

"Oh, Lee. Are you feeling smaller right now, hmm?" Ford asks with a smile, holding the first Winnie the Pooh book in his hands. It's an old one, Stanley picked it out from a thrift store in town, the worn cover reminding him of that nice old woman, the one who made him Poindexter and his quilt. Ford wonders if she may possibly be alive somewhere.

His Lee shyly nods, rocking slightly on his feet and tangling his fingers at the ends of his hair-the mullet had been cut and evened out-the actions tugging at Ford's heart strings. His brother was so cute. He has to draw this when Stanley’s napping. "Well that's okay, Lee. You know I don't mind if you feel smaller today. Do you want to nap on the bed or do you want to make a bed in the living room?" Ford would prefer Stanley wanting to nap in bed, but if his twin really wants to, he'll drag every blanket in the house down stairs and make him a nest.

"Mmm..." Stanley rocks, finger going up to tap at his lips, Ford lets it as long as his brother doesn't start biting at it. After a while, this is a very big decision for his brother to make, Stan points upstairs in the direction of their rooms, wanting to nap in his bed. Ford takes his hand, Stan can be unsteady when he's feeling small, and walks up stairs with him. He makes sure to go slowly, reminding his Lee to hold on to the stair rails so he doesn't fall. "...can do it..." is the only response Stanley gives, pouting all the while as he holds the railing with one hand and Ford's in the other. They slowly make their way to Stanley’s room, turning the lights on to reveal his bed, outfitted with his favorite teddy bear quilt and his beloved Poindexter. Ford still can't get over how...complicated he feels knowing his brother named his stuffed animal after him and how deeply he's cherished it for a decade now.

"Come on, Lee, up up in bed, I'll tuck you in." Ford pulls back the comforter and quilt, helping Stan up and settled in bed, one time Stanley slipped off the bed when he was feeling small and Ford's panic about his tears caused even more crying-it was a rough day. “Let’s get you all nice and tightly tucked in, Lee. Right, bud? As snug as a bug.” It took Ford a while to get used to this childish talk, he’s still embarrassed by it sometimes, but Stanley loves it. It’s starting to come more naturally to him as he keeps talking in this manner.

“...’n a rug?” Lee asks, chewing on his finger. Which Ford swiftly replaces with a rabbit pacifier he has laying on the bedside table; not Lee’s favorite but Ford thinks it’s rather cute. His brother’s hands are already torn up, and he’d hate for them to get worse before he finishes perfecting and experimenting with his healing salve. It’s main purpose is to reduce inflammation and scarification on the first two layers of the skin initially, with more permanent healing taking place after being used consecutively for several days-

“As snug as a bug in a rug, Lee.” Ford cuts himself off. This is no time to be thinking about his projects, not with his Little brother in front of him. Stan is what, who, his focus needs to be on. He leans down and presses a kiss onto his brother’s forehead as he starts to meticulously tuck in the covers.

“...’n Poindexter?”His brother asks around the pacifier. Stan holds his ragged teddy bear up, as if presenting the toy for inspection. But Ford knows what his brother is really asking for. He presses a loud and overdone kiss on the plush’s head, biting back a smile at the giggling bursting forth from his brother. He needs to keep his brother calm or else he’ll never nap. He’s just too cute though. 

“Yes, of course I’ll tuck your friend in with you, Lee. Nice and snug as a bug.” He tucks the toy in his brother’s arms, pulling the beloved quilt up, covering the two of them and tightly tucking the corners in. Ford smoothes back his brothers hair, it's grown out a bit from that rather horrendous mullet he had all those months ago.

“In a rug!” Lee giggled, kicking his feet beneath the blankets. Ford bit back a coo, his brother hearing that would be way too embarrassing for him. He sat next to his brother, bundled and tucked in tightly with his quilt, and opened the story book Lee picked out.

“Are you ready for your story? Or do you need to get more situated first, Lee?” Ford asked, looking over to his brother. His brother who was clutching his bear and staring up at him. Staring as if he had hung the moon. Moses, Ford cleared his throat, his heart is going to give out on him one of these days from how sweet his brother looks. “Story time it is, then.” Ford turned to the first page-

“Voices.” Ah, of course.

“Yes, Lee, I’ll do the voices, too.” He turns back to the first page of the book, face red at the thought of even attempting to do Winnie the Pooh’s voice. Stan really has him wrapped around his finger.

Ford wouldn’t have it any other way.

[ncity-agere]

(SFW) petnames that nct dream calls you in little space:

cg!NCT dream X little!reader (gender-neutral)

Mark: “Dude”. That’s it, not “little dude” or even “dudette”. Just “dude” as a neutral term. I don’t know, it works. That’s probably the first and only thing he could think of and it just… stuck. If you’re in a bad mood or had a really, really bad day and need a little extra care, he might pull out the “baby” or “sweetie” for you.

Renjun: I think he’d be one of those caregivers who calls their little an onomatopoeia (that’s a big word for “noise words”, little ones!) For example, he might call you “boo” or “pip”, something based on whatever little noises you like to make. He finds it endearing.

Jeno: Lots of animal names. Kitty, puppy, bunny, mouse, birdie… literally whatever you’d like. He probably pets your hair like a pet too, even if you don’t pet regress. He’s just got a lot of quiet love to give, so make sure to communicate which name you like to him!

Haechan: “Little shit”. He’s sick and tired of your antics and your pranks (that’s a lie, he loves you very, very much and could never get tired of you… no matter how many times you fling mushy peas into his hair and giggle about it).

Jaemin: Bun-bun, bunny, angel, or baby. Maybe princess or prince too, we’ve seen how endearing and soft he is with Czennies. I think he’d gravitate towards princess, unless you were uncomfortable with it. If so, he might switch off to one of the other names.

Chenle: To be honest, I’m not sure Chenle would understand age regression as a serious thing. Not that he can’t be serious, just that he might now grasp it the first time. So, the first few times he’s around you when you regress, he’s straight-up saying your first name. No cute nicknames or sweet voices, just “oh, hey y/n”. He’s like those people who talk to 2 year-olds about taxes with a straight face.

Jisung: He gravitates towards sweetie because he can’t think of any others that aren’t cringe to him. Jisung is picky and sweetie works just fine. What more do you want from him?

[minminbunny]

Yandere Stalker AU - Caregiver! Lee Minho/Gender Neutral Little! Reader

💕Drabble Masterlist

❤️Ultimate Masterlist

"Why did you stop walking?" Minho asked, standing behind you with his hood up. Your breath hitched, "What?" you whispered, turning your head. Minho tilted his head, "You. Why did you stop walking?" he asked, looking at you as if he spoke the obvious. The goosebumps on your arms sent you warning flags at his behavior. Minho chuckled lowly, "Don't scream," he whispered, covering your mouth with a cloth. You thrashed beneath his hold, adrenaline pumping in your veins. Minho grunted, holding the cloth firm, "Shh, shh, darling. Just go to sleep," he whispered, smirking as your body grew limp within his hold. "I'll take good care of you, darling. No one can hurt you ever again," he said, carrying your body bridal style.

FORCED INFANTILISM BELOW CUT

You stirred awake, "Where am I?" you slurred, looking around. Minho chuckled, looking over your crib, "Good morning, darling. Are you hungry?" he asked, running his fingers through your hair. You flinched from his touch, your eyes widened with fear. Minho chuckled, "Aww, such a jumpy little one. Don't worry, darling. Soon you'll warm up to me," he said, holding a familiar plush toy. You wavered at the sight, confusion and anxiety running through your brain. Minho cooed, "You're wondering how I got your special toy aren't you, darling. Oh, I can read you like an open book," he said, gently placing the toy next to your pillow. You gulped, clutching the plushie to your chest. "Aren't you adorable," Minho said, adoring the way you hugged the plush like your lifeline.

Minho stood straight, he stared down at you, "I know you have many questions, darling. And I will answer them in due time. But for now, I just want you to know that I've been watching you. Your situation twinged a saviour complex so to speak and I had to protect you," he said with sincerity in his voice. You glared at him, not liking the situation you've been put in. Minho chuckled, "Feisty little thing," he said, wanting to pet your hair but he didn't want to scare you further. "Take a look around, darling. This will be your room for a while. Oh, and one more thing. Don't panic when you can't move your legs okay? The drug will wear off with time," Minho said, leaving the room. You furrowed your eyebrows, trying to lift your legs after his words but to no avail. Soft tears spilt down your cheeks, fearing the worst. Minho chuckled, watching you through the baby monitor, "So predictable," he said, grazing the monitor with adoration.

"Momma?" you called out, kneeling in the crib, your head barely peeking over the rail. Minho cooed, holding your bottle, "What's wrong, sweetheart. Did you get hungry?" he asked, shaking the warm bottle. You nodded your head, making grabby hands towards him, "Nom nom," you babbled, staring at him with dilated eyes. "Ahm, nom nom just for you," Minho said, lifting your out of the crib and over his lap. You snuggled into his chest, holding the bottle with both of your hands. Minho chuckled, teasing you with the bottle nip, "Aww, that's not your mouth," he said, gently feeding you. Soft suckles echoed within the room as he rocked your body close, "I never regret saving you, darling. Never," he whispered, holding you firmly, a hint of possessiveness in his tone. You burrowed closer to him, never regretting the day you gave into him.

[cryslittlelibrey]

☁crayons🖍

outside, way beyond the little window you sit behind, glass so hazy and wind so raspy, lie rain pitter pattering, wrapping against panes between the tears it shed and you, curled up beneath fuzzy blankets to chase the chill nipping at your tiny little noes. its a rainy day, and adventure seems so far away, a thought leaving you lost in such blankets and pillows, fuzzy carpets and soft pajamas wrapping you with the silence decorating your room; but do not fret, dear little one, all is not lost, be boredom left with this new story i do spin.

on the carpet, one dancing with shimmering lamp light, are a packet of crayons, ones sprawled across each fiber and film. they may not look like much, snapped and torn, but at your fingertips, grasping your favorite colour, lays the world's away only a key beyond.

draw, scribble, doodle, line by line a new adventure comes to shape despite rains raging beyond walls keeping you safe, for it has no ground here, it has no control. as time ticks by your lost to this world falling beneath colours and traces, castles and trees and rivers all of your own making, because it was not the end the moment the sky decided to pry its dams open.

at your fingertips holds key opening door to so many worlds, worlds beyond rainy days and splattered puddles, worlds all of your own.⭐

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A/N- hey there little ones! i hope you liked this one. was just a little piece i thought up after a rough day so i hope maybe it could have lit your day a little like it did mine! as always story/writing requests and questions are open in my asks feel free to reach out!!

-cry ⭐

[518062]

thinking of agere kacchan again… 🤧

“kacchan?”

katsuki keeps his head in the crook of izuku’s neck, wishing he could become so tiny no one could see him. izuku’s hands are big, and they make him feel safe. he doesn’t want to get down or leave. so he doesn’t respond, and izuku tuts, adjusting his stance to stay balanced as katsuki’s legs tighten around his waist.

“can i put you down now?” izuku asks, watching the cartoon on the tv. kacchan had a fever which wasn’t letting up, and being little had made taking care of him more difficult.

“mmno,” kacchan mumbles against his skin, gripping his shirt tightly. izuku can feel his high temperature, and wants to do everything he can to make it go down, and as much as he loved holding his baby, kacchan was still heavy, and the sofa was right there. it wasn’t like izuku couldn’t hold him. he just wanted to do something for kacchan without feeling useless.

he thinks about the best way to approach this.

“your favourite show’s playing. what if you miss it?” this technique usually works, but izuku isn’t so sure.

“don’t care.”

izuku breathes. he needs to make lunch somehow, so he thinks of something else and moves from behind the couch to sit on it.

“what if we watch it together, hm?” he tries, and kacchan reveals his face—rosy cheeks, green dummy, furrowed eyebrows. izuku wants to drown him in kisses, but alas, he is ill. kacchan shifts on his daddy’s lap, grumpy but satisfied with this compromise as he blinks at the tv.

that’s the first tantrum of the day avoided, izuku muses. but he still needs to move. he hopes kacchan falls asleep soon, since his nap is approaching; if so, however, izuku knows his weak heart will stay as still as the sea.

[kacchans-cradle]

here comes the airplane !! (caregiver mina + little bakugo)

comfort, fluff, agere drabble, mha agere

Katsuki slumps up against the chair, crossing his arms. “I don’ wanna…”

“Huh?” Mina gapes, holding the chopstick that held the sliced, fried pork. “It’s pork! You love pork, you ate it for dinner last night!”

“I don’t wan’ that!” The little one shakes his head, “Gimmie cookies!”

“Can you try phrasing that as a question?”

“Gimmie cookies or I’ll blow you up!!”

“So close! I was looking for a ‘please’.”

Katsuki turns up his nose in disgust. Mina and the others have tried dozens of times to teach him manners when he’s little, but it’s hopeless. He’s always back to his grumpy, cranky self the next day. Which is why she usually has to improvise.

“Okay, how about this…” Mina thinks for a moment. “If you take a couple bites of this tonkatsu, I’ll give you one cookie.”

“Uh-uh. Two cookies.”

“Alright, two cookies and you eat alllll of your food!” She smiles.

Katsuki sticks out a pouty lip. “Three cookies an’ I eat it…”

“Hm.” Mina ponders, “Eat all your food and you get three cookies, but I split the third one and we each get one half. Deal?”

He thinks about it for a moment, softening a bit. “...Okay. Deal.”

Mina’s smile spreads even wider, proud she figured out a solution. She blows the steam off the pork before bringing it to the little one’s mouth, waving the chopstick around like a wand. “Here comes the airplane, nyoooom!”

Katsuki opens his mouth tepidly, so he can be fed. As much as he pretends to hate the airplane thing, it’s actually kinda nice.

“Thas’ not what a plane sounds like…” He says with his mouth still full.

Mina giggles, about to feed him another bite. “Oh, whatever, I know you love it.”

[softpawpup]

— my perfect night of regression !!

the lights are dim and its quiet outside. the house is cool and the fan is blowing. the blankets are warm and plentiful, bunched up and layered one over the other. there’s popcorn, pizza, chocolate, soda and cocoa. howls moving castle on the tv, playing at an audible but soft volume. caregiver at the side, whispering praises and words of love. as sleep comes, the tv fades and the lights grow dimmer. the blankets are pulled up and good night kisses are exchanged. stuffies are gathered and a special one is clutched close to the heart. the bed is soft and the pillows make walls of comfort. theres a hand in hair, stroking and rubbing gently. the fan spins, the caregiver hums, a soft light glows somewhere in the corner. the night is perfect.

[impish-baby]

Weep little lion man - platonic yandere villian x vigilante reader - 🎭

Oh, dear..."

Eos coos, circling around the room. "Someone was naughty, weren't you, darling?" The pounding in your ears practically drowns the villain out, it isn't like you could tear your eyes away from the body laying on the ground to look at them anyway.

It happened so fast, you're not even really sure how.

You didn't mean to. You promise. It was an accident. A stupid, stupid accident because you were scared and-

"Hush." They delicately wipe specks of blood away from your cheek, like you're just a kid who's gotten messy playing. "Don't worry, I'm not mad. I'd say I'm quite proud of you actually." Eos draws you into their arms, rubbing soft circles into your back, a parent soothing their frighted child. "It's ok, I know it wasn't on purpose. You're such a good little hero, hm?" The villian's voice is so kind. It's the only thing you have to ground you to reality.

Eos doesn't let you go once you start sobbing, only gently rocking you back and forth. "Oh honey, I know, I know.. poor thing." They sigh, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "It's so dreary in here. Let's get going, shall we?"

Reader: staring blank faced at the table unable to process the fact that they just killed someone

Eos: you haven't touched your chicken nuggies :((

[wetbatinthenight]

you, who wakes up in your bedroom, all comfy and warm under the covers and in your pajamas. you, who notices that it is saturday, meaning you had no school today and sits up. you, trying to rub the sleep out of your eyes. you, who has been sleeping so heavy lately for some reason.

you, who glances around the room, taking note of the small changes it has had over time. you, who isn’t sure how to feel about it. you, who notices that your bedroom door is closed. you, who knows that this is unusual. you, who can’t remember if you closed it or not at some point but you are pretty sure you didn’t.

you, who is about to get out of bed to use the restroom but you swear you hear footsteps down the hallway by your room, the second floor of the house.

you, who assumes it is your mom, but probably your dad coming to check-in on you like always. you, who knows this is nothing peculiar that this is something he often did since you were little, happening most of the time.

you, who hears heavy thumps outside your door, so you deduce it must be your dad. you, sitting patiently like the nice child you are. you, who is starting to feel a bit curious now that are a bit more lucid, slowly starting to realize that the bedroom door is really closed, a rule that has been broken one way or another.

you, who hears the doorknob start to make noise, turning until it stops, and you hear a different sound. you, who feels so confused but you swear you hear the snap of a mechanism inside the door knob too. you, who processes it all slowly, you who feels your breath hitch when you realize that you just got locked in.

you, whose brows have furrowed. you, who goes into an immediate state of denial. you, who hears someone retreat from your door. you, who throws your covers off yourself, a few stuffed animals hitting the floor.

you, who carefully walks up to the door and stares at the handle. you, who cautiously puts your hand on it and twists. you, who feels your heart drop when it won’t fully move.

you, who does it again and again. you, who is frowning and starting to tug backwards on the door. you, who isn’t liking this. you, who just wants out now.

you, who after sometime realizes it isn’t opening. you, who feels yourself tremble a bit as you take a step away from the door. you, who isn’t quite sure when you ended up on your bedroom floor.

you, who sits there stunned on the ground, breathing getting harsher and faster. you, who thinks that surely your parents wouldn’t lock you in here your own bedroom, right? you, whose body feels all weird as you sit in you knees, trying to wrap your head around everything. you, who doesn’t know what is going on in your house anymore.

you, who puts your clammy hands and presses them against your knees, arms taut, as you try to calm down, tension flowing through your body.

you, whose bottom lip starts to tremble as a soft sob left your throat. you, who starts to cry for the first time since your childhood, a real emotional, not silent, cry. you, who feels warm tears drip down your face and onto your hands and knees as your head leans downward. you, taking in soft stuttered breaths.

you, who just doesn’t understand anything. you, who feels confused and can’t identify whatever else you are feeling. you, on your circle carpet that was a new addition to your room, courtesy of your parents. you, whose face has already started to become wet from crying.

you, who starts to feel tears slowly slip off the back of your hand. you, who can’t believe this is happening. you, who tries to think hard and rationally like you usually do, used to do. you, thinking if you were in trouble and didn’t know, trying to think if you did anything to make your dad parents, your dad angry.

you, who can’t believe they have done this to you. you, whose little sobs and sniffles fill up the room. you, who just spends your time feeling your emotions freely, feeling more vulnerable than usual.

you, who looks up in a slow reaction to your dad who walks into your room over an hour later, saying something about laundry. you, who was to busy crying at first to even hear him come in, you who just sees that he has appeared. you, who turned quiet for a moment, staring up at him through wet lashes.

dad, who feigns slight surprise and sets the basket down and coos and asks what is wrong. you, who finally moves a little, bringing your hands that have turned into fists and wipes at your eyes as you cry again.

dad, who sits next to you and rubs your back and pretends this wasn’t the reaction he was hoping for. dad, who listens to you try to voice out and string together some sort of sentence but struggles. dad, who sees you cry so softly, seeming to be very fragile.

dad, who already knows what this is all about so when he hears words like “door” and “locked”, he fakes putting what you are saying together.

you, who still cries but is at least processing what your dad is doing. you, who just feels a warm, large hand massage circles into your back and hears sweet words being said.

you, who brings your fists down and shakes your head, looking in the direction of your dad but not at him, looking downwards and past him at something random object in your room. you, who sounds more coherent as you bring up the fact he locked you in, a quiet whine pushing past your lips.

dad, who immediately denies that, trying to shush you and bring you closer to him. dad, who says that “of course he didn’t honey”. dad, who explains to you that “dad would never do that to you. look at you, all worked up hm?”

dad who hugs you and tugs you against him as you continue to cry but is calmed down enough to hear him more clearly.

dad, who says that the door must have been jammed, which must have made you “scared” and have “big feelings”.

you, who responds to his denial with a simple “yes you did” as you hiccup a bit now. you, who feels yourself be situated in a lap, hand bringing your head to rest on a shoulder.

dad, who rests his head on top of yours, saying how you must be feeling confused, calling you silly. dad, who sticks to his story of the door being jammed which is starting to make you question it all.

dad, who cements your self-doubt of the truth by saying “dad wouldn’t do that, why would dad want you all stuck in here by yourself,” remarking how that would be unsafe.

you, who nods a bit, agreeing with the closest thing that sounds like what might be happening with you, because you are still too worked up and upset to even think clear enough to correct

you, who after some time has calmed down a bit and is trying to process everything. you, who is starting to feel self-conscious about this all. you, who sits up a little bit but is still in the embrace of your dad.

you, who stares out into the hallway as you try to think hard, eyes meeting the wooden railing of the stairs before turning towards your dad. you, who just stares at his chest because you don’t want to look at him.

dad, who won’t push you too much, and make you hold eye contact, he isn’t a monster after all.

you, who is quiet now and sits in silence, face warm to the touch from all the crying you did. you, who feels shame from crying in front of your dad.

dad, who notices your slight shift in emotions and immediately squashes that. dad, who can’t let you feel insecure about this because it just ruins his plan.

dad, who starts to whisper softly, going on about how tired you must be after getting so upset, how sometimes you just have to get all your bad feelings out and that is okay.

you, who nods slowly and shifts and presses yourself a bit closer to your dad, liking his warmth and trying to seek comfort without realizing it.

dad, who knows that you would never have done something like this before, especially not crying or letting him touch you right after either. dad, who knows that if this happened months ago, the current outcome would be gone.

dad, who fights back a knowing smile and shields his darkened eyes as he rubs your back more. dad, who thinks this couldn’t have gone better.

dad, whose plan has worked. you, who has started to be worn down.

an: very fun, very cool, very slick. noooo, don’t continuously emotionally distress your child to get them back under your thumb and confuse the ideologies that have been imposed on them. anyway, I like the idea of something so small (but not really small), and something that has been constant routine almost your entire life changes, somehow in some way signifying that something really is happening and is different.

also want to say that I do chose words like “feeling weird” specifically. the concept that you can’t articulate or identify everything that you are feeling because you haven’t fully conquered that skill. although you are sweet and a great classmate and communicator, you are lacking socioemotional skills for sure lol. sometimes the phrase has context in which I have an idea and feeling in mind, sometimes I like to put it in certain areas for interpretation.

edit: hi! this has been in my drafts for awhile. I thought, hey, might as well upload it! I wanted to have my aunt done first but who cares :) hope you enjoy! please leave feedback!

[butchreg]

regressor ! jinx who goes all out on NYE when the ball drops !!! she regresses out of excitement and wears the glasses , sets off a ton of poppers , and abuses her noisemakers especially in sevika’s ears and face !! she’s a ball of energy , making explosion sounds as she watches the fireworks. she gets hopped up on sugar , practically bouncing off the walls into the wee hours. sevika who is trying desperately to stay awake , nodding off and being jolted awake by jinx blowing her noisemaker in her face. she’s a bit grumpy around the holidays , not super celebratory. “alright baby blue. it’s way past your bed time.” jinx blows a raspberry in her direction. “haven’t been to sleep since last year !” she laughs hysterically at her own joke though sevika is not amused. sevika ends up conking out in an overstuffed armchair and jinx draws festive little things on her face.

ft my very bad lazy NYE jinx edit >,<