#just colored them in instead of worrying about cleaning them up

[shirmirart]

after zahra finds out...

[playfulsubspace]

The office chair felt cold against her skin as she shifted uncomfortably, the soaked medical diaper beneath her making a faint squelching sound. She kept her legs slightly apart, too afraid to move and risk making the situation worse. Her face burned with shame as she stared at the floor, clutching the edges of her pink T-shirt.

The professor had been kind, at least. “It’s okay,” he’d said, his voice gentle. “Just head to the nurse’s office. She’ll take care of you.”

But “okay” was the last thing she felt. She’d tried so hard to hide her accidents, to pretend everything was normal. But today, her body had betrayed her in the worst possible way.

The nurse’s office was nothing like she’d expected. Instead of sterile white walls and clinical equipment, the room was warm and oddly inviting. The walls were lined with towering shelves, each one packed with colorful packages of diapers—thick, pastel-patterned ones that looked almost playful.

The nurse, a woman about her own age with a kind smile, gestured for her to sit on the exam table. “Don’t worry,” she said, her tone soothing. “We’ll get you cleaned up and into something better.”

The girl blinked, confused. “Something… better?”

The nurse nodded, pulling a package from the shelf. “These,” she said, holding up a thick, colorful ABDL diaper, “are way more comfortable than those medical ones. Trust me, you’ll feel like a whole new person.”

The girl hesitated, her cheeks flushing. “But… isn’t that kind of… weird?”

The nurse laughed, a light, genuine sound. “Weird? Maybe. But who cares? You deserve to feel comfortable in your own skin—or in this case, your own diaper.”

As the nurse helped her change, the girl felt a strange sense of relief. The thick, colorful diaper was undeniably softer and more secure than the clinical one she’d been wearing. For the first time in weeks, she didn’t feel like she had to hide.

Over the next few weeks, the girl found herself visiting the nurse’s office more often—not just for supplies, but for the easy camaraderie that had blossomed between them. They talked about everything: school, life, and even the challenges of living with incontinence.

What had started as a humiliating accident had turned into an unexpected friendship, one that reminded her that it was okay to need help—and that sometimes, help came in the most colorful packages.

[regressionschool]

conditioning

Gaming can be an incredibly effective and playful tool for gently encouraging littles to embrace their regression further. By incorporating games into your routine, you can create a fun, immersive environment where they feel safe and carefree, helping them naturally let go of grown-up habits like asking to use the potty. Here’s how you can guide your little one toward relying on their pull-ups—and eventually transitioning back to diapers—with minimal resistance.

Step 1: Set the Scene

Choose a game that’s engaging but not overly stressful. Bright, colorful games with simple mechanics—like racing games, platformers, or anything involving cute animals—work best. Make sure your little feels cozy, either sitting on the floor or cuddled up near you. Outfit them in pull-ups and something adorable like a soft top or onesie to reinforce their little mindset.

Before starting, remind them that this is their playtime to relax and have fun. Let them get fully absorbed in the game so they aren’t thinking too much about their potty needs.

Step 2: Redirect When They Ask

If your little interrupts the game to ask for the potty, gently but firmly redirect them. Smile warmly and say something like, “Oh, sweetie, let’s finish this round first. You’re doing so well!” If they persist, pause the game for just long enough to take them, but introduce a small chore afterward—something simple, like tidying their play area or fetching a snack.

Make the chore a natural part of the routine but slightly boring compared to the fun of gaming. Over time, this will subtly encourage them to think twice about asking for the potty, as they’ll associate it with losing their precious playtime and having to do a task.

Step 3: Positive Reinforcement for Accidents

As your little becomes more absorbed in the game, they’ll likely start trying to hold it longer to avoid interruptions and chores. Inevitably, this will lead to them having little accidents in their pull-ups. When this happens, don’t scold or shame them. Instead, praise them sweetly for being so focused on their game.

Say something like, “Oh, sweetheart, you were so into your game you didn’t even notice, huh? That’s okay! That’s what your pull-ups are for!” Be gentle as you clean them up and maybe even offer a small reward, like an extra round of their favorite game or a sticker for being so ‘little.’

Step 4: Transitioning to Diapers

Once accidents become frequent, introduce the idea of moving back to diapers in a positive, non-threatening way. Hold up a cute diaper with playful designs and say something like, “Since you’ve been doing so well at being my little gamer, I thought you might like these! They’re softer and cozier, and you won’t have to worry about the potty at all anymore.”

Make it sound like a treat rather than a step backward. Emphasize how much easier and more comfortable it’ll be for them during long gaming sessions. By this point, their protests (if any) should be minimal.

[genderless-naper]

muddy problems

trafalgar law x gf!reader

warnings: fluffy law

sfw, wc: 1k, lowercase intended !

helping your tired law through shower time

law walks through the halls of the polar tang tirelessly. he didn’t expect the most recent encounter with another pirate ship to be such a headache to handle. the captain of the opposing crew was was a devil fruit user: the user of the mud-mud fruit.

needless to say, it was hard for anyone to contain their laughter when law walked passed looking like he just got out of a mud bath. he wouldn’t usually be this forgiving, but he was simply too tired to deal with them. he kicked off his shoes before entering his room.

he saw you laying in his bed reading a book without a care in the world. his gaze softened slightly while drawing a loud breath to release some tension. you looked up at the raven-haired man.

you stared. he stared back.

you hold a hand over your mouth to suppress a laugh. it took every fiber in your body to restrain yourself from rolling on the floor in laughter.

you cleared your throat to greet him, “who knew the tough trafalgar law would fall victim to a mud bath in the middle of a fight?”

law doesnt reply to your statement. instead he focuses on discarding ed his current wear to avoid getting the place more dirty. he had bigger problems to worry about than some rhetoric questions. he needed to get clean fast. the mud on him started to make him feel suffocated.

he looks for a clean pair of clothes to wear for post shower. you close your book and put it on the bedside table so you can follow him. still fighting back laughs you continue to ask, “how many shampoo rinses do you think it takes for that mess to get out your hair?”

law sighs in his tired state and mumbles, “hopefully no more than 3”

you cant help but let a laugh escape, “just 3?? don’t you think you’re being s bit too generous captain? i was thinking at least 5!”

he groans quietly. it was clear the doctor was more exhausted than he would like to admit. you felt bad for your poor lover. as much as you would like to pick on him and his unusual circumstances you knew that wasn’t what law needed right now. he needed your support.

you ran to the bathroom to get his shower started for him. you made sure the temperature was just how he liked it. he followed momentarily; throwing his clean clothes on the shelf of the bathroom as a yawn escapes his lips.

he continues to discard the remainder of his mud soaked clothes while carefully placing them in a bag. he checked the temperature before getting in. another sigh escaping his lips. you smiled contently watching the way the water rolls off his skin, his muscles stretching with every moment, and how his lips part perfectly.

his rinses his hair with shampoo over and over. each wash just made him feel like the mud would never get out. after a few more moments he gives up. he decided to sit for a moment and let the water hit his strained body as he rubs his tired eyes.

you sympathize with you poor boyfriend. you turn the water off and rub his tense shoulders, “maybe i should help you baby? you see like you’ve had a long day”

law, being too prideful to accept your help, shook his head and responded lowly, “i just need a second..”

you hum, “you take a second and ill work on getting this mud out your hair.” you lathered the soup onto your palms and massaged it into the raven colored hair. you were on your knees to match his height as he sat. you massaged his scalp in order to clean every strand.

law’s senses of alertness slowly slipped away. he closed his eyes, and tried his best to keep his head up straight. after swaying from side to side you decided its best to rest his head on your chest as you worked through his hair. he created a soapy mess on your shirt. the man was too engulf in his own drowsiness to notice. you hum a sweet tune into his ear and watched as most his tense muscles relaxed with your touch.

he would never let anyone close like he has with you. sometimes he feels stupid to let his barriers come down for you, and feeling too afraid that something bad will happen to you as well. as much as law protests against himself he still finds himself sharing cherished intimate moments with you.

you guide the heavy-lidded man through the rest of his shower while reciting words of encouragement. getting your shirt wet in the process was a small price to pay to help your lover. once the shower concluded you turn it off and hand him his towel.

the tattooed man dries himself with it slowly. he slightly furrows his brows and points to your shirt, “why are you all wet?” completely oblivious to the consequences of his actions. you shook your head and giggled, “no specific reason baby”

he gave you an apologetic look after realizing he was the reason for your current soaked state. you quickly disregarded with lines of ‘it’s okay’s and ‘don’t worry’s. you gave him his clothes once he’s ready.

he grabs your arms and holds them up to pull your drenched shirt off. he wore his clean shirt on you, “i dont want you to get sick y/n, especially if its because of me.” you were going to protest against, but after seeing the look of anxiousness taking ahold of him you decided its best to accept his acts of kindness.

he always does everything in his power to make sure you are well; afraid to live in a world where he has to grieve you along with other which were once present in his life. it shows very much during moments like these. you place a few kisses on his lips feeling luckier than a lottery winner. you helped your tired boy navigate through the rest of his routine before he fell into bed. he lifted the cover up to make sure you followed in his steps. the mud-soaked version of himself from earlier that day became a part of the past. he enjoyed what he had at that very moment, and that was your beautiful self with a smile that lights your face. it was truly able to cure any disease of his heart. that night law had no trouble falling into an imaginative dream where you two lived together without a care in the world

[revelboo]

(Not a request, just wanted to say hello!) I’m pretty sure I said it when I submitted my first request to you, but you really, truly are so incredibly talented. Each short little blurb has me so drawn in and endeared, more than most books I’ve read in recent memory. Each character is so colorful and written and crafted so lovingly and faithfully, and I just want to thank you for sharing your work with us! I hope writing these brings you as much joy as it brings us! Have a wonderful day, Revel! ♥️

Thank you so much! I hope you have a great day, too

Everything Is Alright Pt 76

IDW Starscream x Reader, Soundwave x Reader, Megatron x Reader

• Such a small, pitiful thing. Still unable to figure out why this creature was worth all the pain, Megatron glances at where you’re huddled, wrapped in a cleaning rag. Not even sure why he’d insisted on taking you with him except to punish those two for this whole idiotic mess. Wary eyes stare back at him, your face all that’s showing as you huddle and shiver. That afraid of him? After carrying you to the bridge, he’d just set you on the arm of his throne and ignored you until your shivering got on his nerves and he’d dug out a cleaning rag to drape over you. “Can I go home?” That little voice makes him pause in reaching for his datapad. “To Starscream?”

• Megatron turns to stare at you and it’s a force of will to not drag the blanket up over your head and hide. Because this one doesn’t like you, your head is pounding, and you just want to curl up against Star, hear him complain about this guy as his servos trace your spine. “He’s trained you well, hasn’t he?” He growls at you and that low, rumbling voice is neutral. The only reason you’re not having a nervous breakdown is because Soundwave is right there diligently working on a console. Or pretending to be. Every time Megatron looks away, he turns to check on you, watching over you as worry over Star eats at you. Knowing he’ll be fine, he was sent to the medbay, but still. He was bleeding energon.

• Watching you wilt in your blanket, Soundwave’s servos flex into fists. But there’s nothing he can do. You’re fine for now while Megatron toys with you and, through you, Starscream. As long as the warlord is certain he can use you to force obedience from the Seeker, you’re valuable to him. Safe. He’s not sure what might happen if Megatron realizes you’re not just a little pet to them, though. Can’t imagine that Megatron will be exactly thrilled if he figures it out. Your own thoughts are a chaotic mess of fear and worry that’s twisting about his own spark. Hurting to go comfort you, touch you, but worried about giving away how much to you mean to him and Starscream. “Does it shake like that all the time?” Megatron mutters, optics narrowing.

• “Cold,” Soundwave replies, head turning to look at the human. Noticing the way you look to him in return, expression almost pleading, Megatron isn’t certain what to make of any of it. Can’t figure out the appeal of this little thing or why it was worth all the trouble. Grumbling, he reaches a servo to touch the top of your head, surprised at how soft your hair is. And you twitch away, a tiny, warm hand lifting to lay on his servo as you stare up at him with wide eyes. Clearly afraid, but also clearly used to Cybertronians. That little hand pushes at him without effect, resisting him as you frown at him. Not so afraid, then. Oddly pleased that you have some fight as you realize you can’t move his servo and instead just scoot away from him and look over at Soundwave. Ignoring him completely.

• Baring his denta as Hook shoves him down flat again, Starscream struggles to roll onto his side and get off the berth, out of medbay. He’s already called the medic every nasty thing he could think of trying to get thrown out. That had only backfired when he’d apparently called in Vortex to help hold him down. The smaller mech grinning down at him as he fights their hands. All that matters is getting to you, he’s not hurt that badly he’s sure. He’s had worse. “Frag this,” Hook snarls at him and rears back, fist connecting squarely with his face as his head snaps back. And he’s out.

Previous

Next

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Jade Leech - Room Relaxation Vignette

"Happy Birthday"

[Mostro Lounge]

Jade: …I see. I've grasped the information you've just brought me. I shall inform Azul about it immediately.

Jamil: Seriously. Why'd I have to be the one stuck coming all the way to the Mostro Lounge to deliver the Headmage's message?

Jade: Heh, my sincerest apologies. I'm afraid our esteemed manager likes to scold us if we are on our phones during work.

Jamil: And what's that manager of yours doing, anyway? If I could've just been able to get in contact with him, I wouldn't have had to come all the way here.

Jade: He is conducting business in the VIP Room. I'm sure he's turned off his phone so as to not be rude to his guest.

Jade: Although, I suppose it's a shame. I rather would have had you come tomorrow instead of today, Jamil-san.

Jamil: Tomorrow? Is there something going on tomorrow? …No, nevermind. Forget I asked.

Jade: ACTUALLY, YOU SEE! It is our birthday tomorrow.

Jamil: Whew. I was a little worried as to what it could've been… But yeah, I guess it is your guys' birthday tomorrow.

Jamil: Good thing I came today, then.

Jamil: Who knows what'd you two'd be bugging me about if I actually came on the day of.

Jade: I would never bug you… I would have been content with a simple birthday greeting.

Jamil: Yeah, sure. Though I'm pretty sure your brother wouldn't let me slide with just a few words.

Jamil: Maybe I should prepare something ahead of time before things get dicey… Alright then, I'll be heading back now.

Jamil: Thanks for passing on the message to Azul. And… Have a good birthday.

Jade: Of course, thank you very much.

Jade: We look forward to serving you again. Please return home safely.

Jade: Phew, it seems all the customers have finally left. Today was yet another successfully busy day.

Jade: Now then, everyone, I leave cleaning of the lounge to you all. I'll go take stock of inventory…

[Octavinelle Student A appears]

Jade: Oh? I'm pretty sure your duty station was in the kitchen was it not? You should be starting to close everything down, why are you here in the lounge?

Jade: Floyd should be in the kitchen today, as well. Don't come to me if you've made him ang... [Octavinelle Student A speaks] Eh? Floyd got bored and left?

Jade: Well then, I suppose I'll head towards the kitchen. I'll leave it to all of you to finish cleaning the lounge.

[Octavinelle Dorm – Jade's Room]

[Floyd speaks]

Jade: Ah, Floyd. Because you left as you did, the kitchen was in such disarray.

[Floyd speaks]

Jade: …Oh my, you saw through me immediately.

Jade: Everyone finished their tasks quite efficiently after I kindly spoke with them.

[Floyd speaks]

Jade: Heh, it seems I'll be able to take my time to enjoy my little hobbies today. I'll have to be quick with my shower.

Jade: Now…

Jade: What should I start with tonight?

[Octavinelle Dorm – Jade's Room]

Jade: First, I'll check up on my terrariums… Ah no, the moss is starting to dry out.

Jade: I should water it well. I'll pour some water into the spray bottle, and…

[spray, spray]

Jade: …This looks fine enough. The moss is looking good and moist.

Jade: It looks almost completely different from when it was dried up… Fufu, I don't think I could ever get tired of observing moss like this.

Jade: …......

Jade: …AH, WH-WHAT'S THIS!?

Jade: The rock that I had been carefully observing for so long… It's covered in some green substance that I'm sure wasn't there this morning!

Jade: This color, this shape…!! It looks very similar to what I saw on page 487 of my Moss Encyclopedia.

[slams book open]

Jade: "When dry, the fronds become as spindly as thread; when moist, they take on a unique appearance."

Jade: "This moss is exceedingly rare, and as such the exact location and environment most suitable for growth is not well known."

Jade: Aah… As I expected…! It was absolutely worth observing this flora, without knowing if it was even a type of moss or not.

Jade: Look here, Floyd! I've obtained a rare species of moss!

[Floyd flips a page in his book]

Jade: He's… Reading, I see. It is a shame that I cannot share this exciting occasion with him, but I suppose I shouldn't press it today.

Jade: It would truly be regrettable if I brought about his ire and he damaged this rare specimen in the process.

Jade: Oh yes, I cannot just leave it like this. I should take a picture and jot down its information in my notebook!

Jade: Ah, right, I suppose I should fill this out while I am at my desk, as well.

「Survey on Quality of Life Improvements for the Student Body」

Jade: Quality of life improvements, hm… I think I would wish for a more suitable environment to raise my terrariums.

Jade: Just because a place is suitable for humans to live in, that does not mean that plants or moss will thrive in the same way.

Jade: I've had plants wither away in the shade without knowing that they require a location bathed in sunlight…

Jade: I've even had mushrooms grow from the moss simply because the temperature and humidity were too high…

Jade: That incident was the absolute worst.

Jade: When I returned to my room, the mushroom spores had spread so fervently that the terrarium was completely unsalvageable…

Jade: The cause of that disaster was painfully apparent. It was all due to the fact that I could not control the temperature, humidity, nor the necessary daylight in my room.

Jade: In order to resolve such issues, it would be best to ensure everyone has their own room, regardless of year…

Jade: Or, at the very least, I'd like it if we could partition the rooms completely.

Jade: If only because there was one time that I had purchased a large humidifier, but Floyd broke it, saying he hated how muggy it made the room.

Jade: If we were able to have our individual spaces, then I could install a humidifier, a heater, or even add more windows to regulate natural light… AH!

Jade: Right, Octavinelle is located underwater, so we would also have to take into account levels of salt in the air.

Jade: I'll put "The buildings should be reinforced to be resistant to salt pollution." …Or perhaps I should just request that the whole dormitory be protected by a stronger layer of magic…

Jade: …Hm, there isn't much space to write my response on this survey. I even had to fully utilize the reverse side of the paper.

Jade: If I were able to provide a better environment for the moss to thrive in, then we should be able to increase their number and spread them even further. Heh, and thus my dreams are spread further.

[Octavinelle Dorm – Jade's Room]

Jade: …..

[Jade's eyes snap open]

Jade: It seems I've awoken before my alarm today, as well.

Jade: I'm sure Floyd won't wake for some time, so I should go and freshen up while I can.

[Octavinelle Dorm – Washroom]

Jade: It stays unruly even if I wet it… Haah, it seems my bedhead today is a stubborn foe.

Jade: I'll leave fixing my hair until the end, so for now, I should focus on my makeup routine.

Jade: The most important thing to take into account is protecting my skin from the sun. Sunscreen is to be applied evenly everywhere… Ah, yes, and I cannot forget my ears, either.

Jade: After that, I'll do my eye makeup, and apply a lip balm with further sunscreen protection…

Jade: Now, we get down to this unruly hair… I'll turn on the hair iron…

Jade: I'll grab the end of the length by my ear and move the flat iron down towards my fingertips while trying to give it a light curl.

Jade: …

Jade: …It came out too straight.

Jade: I thought I had twisted the end properly… I suppose I did not curl it enough. I'll try again…

Jade: …This time the strands are too springy, I must have added too much of a curl.

Jade: It seems my opponent is a fierce one this morning… How fascinating. I shall meet them head on.

Jade: After all, making a proper "J" is a difficult task… One that I find extremely worthwhile!

[Octavinelle Dorm – Jade's Room]

Jade: After fixing my hair, next is my usual… Wonderful, everything has come out perfectly.

Jade: Not a single wrinkle to be found. Ahh… I do love to see freshly ironed shirts in the morning.

Jade: I can feel my own mood slowly get better with each wrinkle smoothed out of my clothes.

Jade: Now, I just need to iron my handkerchief.

Jade: A black handkerchief, without any embroideries. A gentleman's elegance.

Jade: Now then, it is still rather early… I should head towards the dormitory lounge and enjoy a cup of tea by myself.

Jade: It might be nice to try some of the tea leaves that I've received recently today. After all, it is my birthday.

[Main Street]

Jade: Good morning, Jamil-san. What a coincidence, running into you in a place like this.

Jamil: How is it a coincidence? We're sophomores on our way to class, so it wouldn't be strange to meet up like this.

Jade: …

Jamil: What's with that look?

Jamil: Yeah, I know. Happy Birthday. …You just wanted to hear me say that, right?

Jade: Heheh, thank you. Just from hearing your well wishes, I think today will end up being a wonderful day.

Requested by @thelonepearl and @sakurakudo.

[xiao-come-home]

currently suffering pre-period cramps so have this (pre?)period hc with boothill 😔✌️ lets suffer together

Thinking about Boothill who would take you to bed bridal style and offer you massage (he's horrible at it and massages your shoulders instead of lower back), and then tell you funny stories he's come across or "funny" jokes (they aren't funny, but so bad they make you laugh 😭), so you pay less attention to your pain.

Thinking about Boothill who starts beef with someone that took your favorite menstrual products inside the store and THEN with the store employee AND THEN with the store manager. Probably chokes somebody at some point, takes the products and goes to checkout like nothing happened.

Thinking about Boothill who would whine and moan along with you when you feel fussy. He holds you tightly against his chest, wearing a thick, colorful robe - and when you whine into him and hide your face in his neck, he throws his head back and playfully whines louder, only to gently kiss you on the forehead and rub your back reassuringly when you groan at his "response."

Listen. Boothill can relieve your pain in many ways, also in that way, if you're up for it. He's not scared of blood, and.. I mean, he can detach himself to clean it thoroughly.

But if it's too painful - Roger that! Boothill can run you a bath, robe you, prepare your products, and also probably run with a speed of sound for your favorite snacks when you're relaxing in the water.

"Check this out, cutie!" Boothill shouts, kicking the door open, "got ya favorite cookies and chocolate!" He rustles the bags happily, smirking at you, "actually, I managed to get the last ones just for ya, beautiful." (He took the last pack of cookies from a child in the sweets aisle and left them crying 😭 it's starting to become a habit..)

Talking too much? No worries, Boothill will stop bothering you for a while and let you rest against him, cuddling you and giving you kisses. He'll play with your hair when you two watch a movie together. He'll comfort you if you feel moody, and can warm your tummy up with his hands - he didn't just get that fancy warming module for nothing!

[m1d-45]

room 11-13

summary: albedo is weird. no, not just weird- disgustingly strange.

word count: ~2.5k

-> warnings: implied stalking [him -> you] ; he is a weird creep!! brief + non described mentioned nudity (of reader, within a drawing)

-> gn reader (you/yours) in a modern au !

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay || @cupandtea24 || @genshin-impacts-me || @chaoticfivesworld || @raaawwwr || @ryuryuryuyurboat || @undrxtxd || @rainswept || @wanderersqt || @rozz-eokkk

< masterlist >

your roommate was… interesting, to say the least. not that you really had many expectations—unlike apparently everyone else, you didn’t come to university with a plethora of friends packed in your bag. you had no names to list on your housing contract, no familiar faces to look forward to when you came home, just you, a handful of cardboard boxes and a lingering sense that you’d forgotten something.

there was nothing you could pin about him. nothing in specific, no one catalyst you could point to. sure, you don’t see him often, but that isn’t inherently a bad thing. there’s nothing wrong with not going out much, there’s nothing wrong with being a quiet person when you’re living with a stranger. the common room is clean, the sink is (relatively) empty, and none of your things in the fridge have been eaten. he really, by all standards, should be a perfectly fine roommate, but…

albedo was a quiet man. you first met him when you moved in, delicately pouring exact amounts of water into a small tins over the sink without a single sound or stray droplet. he looked up, you exchanged names, and that was that. the rest of your day was spent unpacking in your room, barely hearing the click of his door closing.

you never quite asked what he was doing that first day, but you could put two and two together. he had a habit of leaving pencils or erasers or other supplies on the coffee table, and you often ran into him when he came out of his room to fetch them. you’re not quite sure how you never see him in the living room when you never told him your schedule, but… well, whatever. it didn’t take a genius to know that the guy with charcoal smears across his hands was an artist. and, if you’d somehow missed those, you sometimes ran into half-used palette in the fridge, beads of paint in a myriad of colors sealed neatly in plastic containers, changing every time you checked.

you weren’t sure why they were always there, as you’d definitely seen one when he was in the dorm, but… well, it’s not really your business, is it? maybe he’s busy, maybe he doesn’t want to paint, maybe he’s taking a nap, who cares. you grab what you need and go back to your room; there’s more important things to worry about than a stranger’s hobbies. honestly, you shouldn’t spend so much time thinking about him. you could hardly claim to know someone you never saw.

well, except when you did see him.

you grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge as you came back from your chemistry lab, not minding the usual palette of paint beside it. also as usual, you heard his door open as he remembered some random item, not minding the sound of his footsteps as you receded into your own room-

“wait! ah- please…”

you forgotten what his voice sounded like. it’s mostly out of shock, not recognition, that you turn around, seeing him lingering in the entrance to his half of the dorm. his hair is loose around his shoulders, catching the light from the window and glowing gold. his apron is stained with a rainbow of paint, matching the perpetual lines across his hands, and he seems a bit too nervous to be talking with someone he’s been living with for a few months now.

“…i couldn’t make it to the lab today,” he starts, words measured and not at all like his original call, practiced instead of panicked. “could i borrow your notes?”

…you’re in the same chemistry class? you’d never noticed. then again, you’re not sure you could pick him out of a crowd—it’s not like you two were exactly close… but giving him your data was honestly a non-issue. normally you wouldn’t think twice about it, except if he was in your lab section then he should know the rules about missing them.

“you’re going to have to retake the lab anyway, aren’t you? my report won’t help you at all.”

he blinks, like he’d forgotten that fact, and you half hope that’ll be the end of it. you still have your own work to get to, after all.

“still… it would give me something to reference, so when i do it i’ll know if my results are reasonable.” his brows are drawn, genuinely worried, crystal blue carrying a surprising amount of emotion despite the careful cadence of his words. “i’d greatly appreciate your assistance on this matter… i don’t have a reliable way to contact anyone else in the class.”

it only takes you a few moments to weigh the pros and cons. at worst, your partner can back you up if he tries to steal your work. at best, nothing happens and you’ve earned a bit of goodwill.

you shrug, taking off your bag and setting it on the counter, unzipping the main pocket and digging for your lab manual. you find it and flip to today’s lab, mentally wondering what an artist would think of the irritated scribbles down the side of the page. whatever the case, you hold it out toward the hallway he was before, only to find him barely a foot away. he’s stood over your shoulder, letting your manual bump into his chest without a flinch, without an ounce of the worry from before.

without an ounce of anything at all, really. his face is flat, empty, just staring down at the words in front of him without seeming to read them at all.

“…sorry,” you start, “i didn’t hear you-”

“don’t be sorry.” with a blink, he’s back, taking the manual with a gentle smile. “thank you for your help. i’ll return it by tonight.”

“…yeah, take your time.”

you’re not going to question what or why whatever happened did. it’s.. just easier if you don’t. you grab your bag and go to your room, focused on anything else.

you don’t find it in the common area, on the coffee table or by the sink or in any reasonable area. he doesn’t knock on your door to return it. no, instead, you trip over it the next day as you leave your room, squinting in the dark to see it laying on the carpet, a note taped to the front.

yeah, you’re not reading that. not now, at least. you’re certain albedo is a nice guy, if socially awkward, but… you can give him the benefit of the doubt later. you shove the note in a drawer and forget about it, going to class. if you just ignore it, you won’t have to deal with it.

it must not have been anything important, because he doesn’t ever bring it up again. it’s almost as if nothing happened. there’s a new pencil on the common room whenever you walk by, he ducks his head and smiles sheepishly when grabbing it, and nothing is new. you try to look for him in the lab, if only to be courteous, but never find him. it’s not a big class… but whatever, you’re not too familiar with his face anyway. after a week or two, you stop trying.

it’s wishful thinking, really.

you have to do a double take when opening the fridge one day, the paint on the palette looking, from the corner of your eye, like a human hand. it’s just skin-toned paints, delicately mixed into a color that somewhat looks like yours.. by the looks of it, he must have fussed with the tint for a while. normally there’s only small bubbles of paint, but this is excessively fine refinement.. he must just be a perfectionist.

you can’t leave your room without running into him. not just like before, with brief intersections as he grabs what he’s forgotten, but actual interactions. he sits on the couch, drawing in a small notebook, asking you about your classes like he’s not supposed to be in his own classes. sure, he could be taking some online, but it’s like he never leaves the dorm.

he asks as usual, one day, what class you’re going to. when you finally gather your courage and ask why he himself isn’t going to the lab, he startles, like he’d forgotten he was attending. there were plenty of reasons why he wasn’t going—maybe he was in a different section of the class, or he had a car and had reduced travel time, or quite literally anything other than silence. but he sat there, staring at you like you were the one who had mixed up your schedule, with the same painfully empty look as before.

you left soon after that.

if asked to describe albedo in three words or less, you’d fumble for a few moments before landing on “fine, but weird.” if asked to do so with any other level of detail, you’d probably end up saying the exact same thing.

and that’s fine. you didn’t really expect to become best friends with your roommate. but for archons’ sake, he’s just so… uncanny.

you’ve never seen any other food in the fridge but yours. you cannot remember ever seeing or hearing him leave or enter the dorm, or ever remember not seeing some sign of him being there. his door was perpetually closed, the faint sound of scratching coming from behind it, and he’d just… freeze at random. like he recedes into himself, leaving a hollow husk until he returns, eyes left as flat disks set into an unfeeling face. there’s nothing inherently wrong with not showing many expressions, but whatever he’s got going on is far more concerning than that.

so really, who could blame you for being curious? his sketchbook is just there, laying open on the table, only partially masked by the small bag of supplies next to it. the door to the bathroom is closed, you really shouldn’t be invading his privacy like this, but it’s not like he even bothered to close it.

still, it’s wrong.

still, having something solid to point to could really help if you ever need to make a complaint to an RA.

oh archons, this is such a bad idea.

before you can convince yourself not to, you walk over and sit in his usual place on the couch, picking up his sketchbook and gritting your teeth through the fact that there’s no way this is morally justified.

the current spread is plain. it’s entirely in pencil, repeated iterations of different kinds of jewelry. rings, with ornate spirals and diamonds along the sides, leading into a gem of many different cuts. some simple stud earrings, some hoops, a necklace draped around a half-drawn bust, the chain sketched to look like blooming flowers strung together. there’s some notes in another script, but other than that, it’s entirely normal. there’s nothing weird about a guy that draws bracelets in his spare time. but your mind itches to find a justification, searching for proof, and you’re already in too deep. despite your better judgement, you turn the page, doing your best not to drop it when you do.

it’s you.

you, at least six times on two pages alone. smiling, waving, fixing your hair, by the seven you feel faintly sick, fingers digging into the pages as you try to rationalize what you’re seeing.

it could just be a one off. maybe you have a particularly interesting face to draw? except the next page is the same, and so is the next, and you flip through them all with the edge of your thumb and it’s all you.

all of it. every single page that has ink on it has your face. from the very front to the very back, with only a page or two of white left, and it’s clear that the jewelry was an intentional decoy. there’s a spread dedicated to just your hands, one to various outfits he’s seen you in, one- archons, one in various stages of undress, barely granting you the dignity of keeping them from the waist up. the worst part, really, is how accurate they are, clear proof of just how much time he’s spent staring at you.

you recognize his voice now, quiet and measured as he calls your name. that could just be your heart in your ears, though.

he has that same blank expression again, standing in the doorway, looking between you and the book. you’re certain he can see the paled fingertips of your grip on the cover. “do… do you not like them?”

“…what?”

he settles back into himself, sad, shoulders slumping and eyes downturned. “they’re just practices, i promise. the actual painting looks much better…”

bile threatens the back of your throat. “the painting?”

“yes, the painting. the one i mentioned in my note…”

…the note. his note. the one you didn’t read. the one he gave you after a grand total of one significant interactions, before which you all but considered him a ghost. and he decided that making a painting of you was a normal thing to do?

“…it makes sense you forgot it. i can’t imagine i’ve ever come close to properly capturing your beauty… it doesn't matter the medium, i never seem to get it right...”

he crosses his arms, picking idly at his lips with one hand, like he’s discussing a particularly annoying problem on his homework and not the fact that he has drawings of you topless. after a few moments of mumbling, he shakes his head. “i’ll do better. i promise i will. one day i'll draw something that finds even a fraction of your perfection.”

you don’t care. all you want is to get out of here, to lock your doors and try not to call the cops while he’s in earshot. “it’s fine, albedo”

the lie is a poison that seems to sting him upon arrival, a ripple of shock crossing his impassive expression. “it's not fine, not at all. how can i call myself an artist if i fail to impress my muse? please, give me time, i promise i can do better-”

“it’s fine,” you repeat, setting the sketchbook down and realizing with another stab of disgust that he’s written your name on the front cover. you stand, hands buzzing with the echo of what you’ve witnessed, not caring for the crestfallen look on his face. “…you’re a talented artist,” you grit out.

and you’re going to be sick.

[sammylkcho]

*fidgets in place. Kicks rock*

Razzle&DazzlexGn!Reader? 🥺 or Boxten if you don't want to write rnd *looks around nonchalantly*

oh my god, i don't know why but your request filled my head with thousands of super sweet reader and R&D scenarios

and don’t worry! I tried to make it as fluffy and romantic as possible (in a healthy way, of course)

Warnings/Notes: first fic about dandys world yay, fluff, romantic, established relationship, reader with gender neutral

After spending a good while in the elevator extracting ichor from the machines, you felt your hands and feet completely sore and numb. All the adrenaline that had kept you alert had faded away, and now you were fully aware of the pain that invaded every part of your body.

If it were possible, your hands would be calloused by now. Instead, a slight tremor ran through your fingers, still covered in dried ichor that you'd forgotten to clean off while working.

You managed to reach one of the few rooms that hadn’t yet been invaded by the twisteds, a place of rest for the few toons still exploring the floors and continuing with the extraction. With tired eyes, you looked around the room until a familiar figure caught your attention. You immediately recognized the two heads (or masks) and the red scarf around their neck. Your eyes lit up in recognition: your duo and beloved partner.

"Razzle, Dazzle!" you exclaimed, waving excitedly as they turned to see who was calling them.

"Oh! Y/N" Razzle called to you with the same joy you felt, while Dazzle also said your name in a soft but sweet tone. Both looked genuinely happy to see you.

They opened their arms, wrapping you in a hug as soon as you reached them. The warmth of their embrace was comforting, and any negative thoughts seemed to dissipate in their company.

"How was it out there?" Razzle asked. "You’re alright.. aren’t you?" added Dazzle a few seconds later, in his calm tone to avoid overwhelming you.

You buried your face into the curve of their necks, savoring the soft texture of the scarf they shared. You made a small sound of negation before replying.

"It went well, though I’m a bit tired right now. And yeah, I’m okay… just a bit covered in ichor" you responded to both questions, letting the hug envelop you.

You felt the rhythmic strokes of Razzle’s white hand (on the right side, you assumed) and the slow pats of Dazzle’s black hand (on the left side).

"We could help you next time you go; you know you have us here to help" Razzle said.

"Mmh… I could extract the machines, so you don’t get so tired" added Dazzle.

A slight warmth colored your cheeks at their words. Normally, you wouldn’t ask for their help since they ended up tired too, but you always appreciated those supportive and encouraging comments they gave you.

A small squeal of excitement and nervousness escaped you involuntarily, and you quickly tried to hide even further into the scarf.

"Thanks guys" you whispered after a couple of minutes of comfortable silence.

You thought they might simply continue talking normally or stay in silence in each other’s company until you suddenly heard an energetic "mwa" followed by a softer "mwa" leaving you feeling both shaky and nervous.

"Anything for our beloved partner!" "We wouldn’t want to see you so tired and doing everything on your own..."

Their words filled you with a comforting warmth that made your heart race. They were too sweet.

You lifted your head, full of determination, noticing Dazzle’s slight smile and Razzle’s bright grin, both filled with deep love and affection.

You gave each of them a kiss on their cheeks, leaning on their shoulders as you smiled warmly at both.

They were the sun that brightened your days, and you were their burning flame that never seemed to go out, no matter how strong the wind.

[angel-of-the-moons]

Your Beanies are My Babies, too

Steven Grant x Reader (Implied Marc & Jake x Reader)

TW/CW: None!

Summary:

Steven makes sure you know nothing is too silly or childish for him if it makes you happy.

A/N: This came to me because unpacking some things I found the few Beanie Babies I have! Including my sweet lil froggy I thought my sister stole :')

You sighed as you closed the little plastic tote, your shoulders sagging with guilt as you prepared to stuff the container on the top shelf in the back of the closet.

"What's wrong, love?" Steven asked curiously as he carefully placed your clothes in the freshly emptied drawers in the dresser.

You had decided to make everything more official in your relationship by moving in together. Steven's place was bigger than yours, and with some TLC and cleaning, it was plenty big for your stuff as well.

"Oh, it's... it's nothing, don't worry about it." You reply, your smile strained and not quite reaching your eyes. He noticed, but didn't say anything.

Instead, he nodded and smiled back, his dark eyes twinkling, "Right, then. Let's stop and make lunch, yeah? Been at this all morning!"

Steven set the empty cardboard box atop the dresser, and wiped his hands dramatically free of imaginary dust, "You hungry?"

Your smile widened just a bit, genuine mirth taking hold at the thought of one of his delicious veggie wraps. "I'm starving."

He didn't mean to be nosey. He really, really, truly, absolutely didn't!

It's just that you looked so... forlorn when you looked inside the tote. Steven got curious and merely wanted to see what had upset you so.

What he didn't anticipate, was rather cute, small, and well-loved toys! "Beanie Babies"; Marc had told him. "But why keep them in a tote?"

"I d'nno." Steven mumbled softly. "Bad memories? Gifts from a dead relative?"

Jake spoke up. "Well, whatever the case, maybe we should put them back--"

"Oooh! Look at this one! It's a hippo!" Steven cooed at the cute, purple little toy. "This one is called "Happy the Hippo"... And his birthday is..." He said as he read the colorful heart-shaped tag.

"Steven?" Your voice barked.

He jumped and dropped the little toy, his face lighting with a scarlet hue at being caught snooping.

"I--I--" He stammered.

"Wh-why are you..." You paled, beginning to feel a surge of panic sweep through you. The last time this happened....

"Hey, hey! It's okay." Steven said, quickly climbing to his feet to rush over to you. He rubbed your arms up and down as you pressed the heels of your palms to your eyes.

"Please don't be mad..." You say, biting back a soft sob.

"M... Mad?" He blinked, "Why on earth would I be mad at you? I'm the one who went through your things without permission!"

You look into his eyes; not picking up on a single hint of malice or mockery there, all you could see was... concern and sympathy?

"My--my B-Beanie Babies..." You blubber softly, looking over to the tote he'd been looking into.

"Y-yeah? What about them?" He asked, trying to follow your train of thought.

"My... My exes, they..." You sniffle. "They said they were stupid. That they were stupid little kid toys and as an adult I shouldn't have them..."

You swallow, "M-my ex boyfriend before you... He tried to throw them away because he said they were dumb... I've had most of them since I was little. I've taken good care of them, and..."

"Oh, love..." He breathed. "Did you think I'd have a problem with your collection? Is that why you're so scared?"

"I.... Yeah."

"Well, in case you haven't noticed... I have quite the collection myself." Steven giggled, looking around at his stacks of books, museum paraphernalia, bits and baubles... "Why would you think I'd have a problem with your Beanie Babies?"

"I... Everyone says they're a stupid hobby, that they're for kids--" You say hastily, as if trying to defend those that insulted something so precious to you. And that hurt him.

He leaned in and kissed your forehead affectionately, "Sweetheart, they're adorable. I didn't have Beanie Babies growing up. Mum was... Well. Things like that were for "girls"..."

"So you... Like them?" You ask hopefully.

"I love them!" He chirped cheerfully. "Why don't we get them out of that dreary old tote and put them on a special little shelf? Give them a view? Maybe they could overlook the fish tank!"

You sniffle again and nod, smiling gratefully as you wipe at your cheek. "Yeah... Yeah. We... We can do that?"

"Yep!" He kissed your cheek, "Because your Babies are my Babies... They're charming and cute... Now let's clear off a shelf for them!"

You watched, your heart squeezing so sweetly in your chest as he began to precariously climb atop his desk (and almost fell) to prepare the new place for your special collection.

Why did you ever think he'd make fun of you?

[gummygowon]

bingo | park seonghwa

word count: 1.8k

genre: angst + fluff, single dad!seonghwa x reader

warnings: brief mention of hwa's ex partner not being in their daughter's life

author's note: after seeing seonghwa on that one show with kids i literally cannot get dad!teez out of my head

it's been almost a month? since you've started going out with seonghwa. he was a great guy, a little older than you and was always a gentleman to you, what more could you ask for? at this point, you were waiting for seonghwa to make it official but there was just something that was holding him back. you didn't know what it was but you trusted that with time he'll tell you.

tonight, was another date night and even after all these days you still got nervous before each one. it was no different when you arrived at seonghwa's house fiddling with the hem of your cardigan.

hesitantly, you knocked on the door to reveal a disheveled looking seonghwa. his usually slicked back hair wasn't done and a few buttons on his shirt were open.

"hi," seonghwa breathes out, a tired smile on his face.

"are you okay, hwa?" you ask almost instantly, concern taking over before you notice a tiny figure waddling up behind him. big doe eyes looking up at you from behind his legs, "oh hello!"

"yeojin, go into your room really quickly. appa will be there in a second." seonghwa softly asks, the exhaustion evident in his voice. "come in, i'm so sorry. just give me a minute, things have been...chaotic."

"oh no worries." you respond empathetically, taking note of how many toys and coloring books were scattered all over the place. so he has a child? is he divorced?

before too many questions popped into your mind, seonghwa immediately began talking as he began to pick up the scattered toys. "i'm so sorry about the mess. i had to stay at the office a little longer and then i picked up yeojin late and i just haven't had time to clean up and then our babysitter canceled last minute and now-"

"hey, hey," you interrupt before seonghwa combusts from being overwhelmed. to ease the burden, you also begin to pick up the toys around the living room after you placed a hand on his back. "it's okay. don't worry about it. there's always tomorrow seonghwa."

"i know, i know but-wait. you're not mad or disgusted?" the man stops in his tracks looking at you perplexed.

"i'm a little surprised if i'm being honest. i know taking care of a child is hard and by yourself i assume is even harder. your kid is more important than anything in the world, missing one date won't kill me hwa."

seonghwa was standing still, not a sound coming out his mouth which was beginning to freak you out. did you say the wrong thing? is seonghwa yeojin's dad or? "seonghwa?"

"sorry, i'm just a little shocked. not a lot of people are very happy when they find out they've been going out with a single dad." seonghwa lightly jokes trying to ease the tension in the air. "thank you though. it means a lot. really."

"of course," you smile at him.

a door opens to reveal a tiny yeojin peeking out from what you presumed to be her room.

"hey bubba, what's up." seonghwa asks, his voice becoming much softer.

she doesn't say much but instead pads over to the coffee table and attaches herself to her dad. "can we draw?"

"of course bubs. let appa go get the markers."

"i can get them." you say faster than seonghwa gets up to which he directs you over to one of the drawers in the living room.

upon your arrival, seonghwa has a bluey coloring book out for yeojin. crutching down to reach the table, you gasp softly at the blue dog. "is that bluey?"

yeojin nods her head shyly, a small smile appearing on her face as seonghwa looks up at you in surprise.

"ahh, i love bluey! who's your favorite character?" you ask watching yeojin point to the smaller, light colored dog.

"bingo?" yeojin nods again, her smile growing even bigger. "no way, i like her too!"

seonghwa watched the two of you converse in awe and he swears he couldn't have fallen more in love with you. it was always a gamble bringing up the fact that he had a kid to his dates and lately he's been ghosted more times than he can count. maybe that's why seonghwa took so long to talk about yeojin. although, he would never admit it, you had him wrapped your finger and he was scared to lose you.

so far though, you were taking his little "surprise" or "fun fact" about him better than he thought you would. still, he was worried what you would say when yeojin left the room. would you be mad at him? dump him on the spot? ghost him after tonight? he's never had one of his flings (?) ever meet yeojin because they all left at the mention of a kid. to say seonghwa was terrified of your reaction was a massive understatement.

"seonghwa?" you ask, pulling the dad out of his thoughts. "yeojin wants to watch bluey."

"right." he answers, gently removing yeojin from his lap as he goes to scrounge for the remote in his unusually disorganized apartment.

while seonghwa looks for the remote, you continue to converse with yeojin about bluey which was the show you ironically watched during dinner time. hey, there's actually plot and messages in the show okay?

by the time seonghwa returned, the two of you were in a deep conversation about some episode regarding bingo and bluey playing pretend with their grandad. almost immediately, yeojin eye's become glued to the screen as soon her dad puts on the kid's show leaving you and seonghwa to talk amongst each other.

"so, you know bluey?" seonghwa asks, a teasing tone to his voice.

an embarrassed laugh slips past your lips, "uh yeah, sounds silly but i watch it as background noise, you know?"

"i'm not judging," he pauses, "just surprised."

"yeah, i like the accents." you say in a panic causing seonghwa to smile, "so, um i don't mean to pry but i assume yeojin's yours?"

the smile slowly fades on his face as seonghwa feels the guilt build in his stomach. "yeah, her, uh mom isn't in the picture anymore."

"oh, i'm so sorry to hear that."

"it's fine now, it's better without her." seonghwa looks down at his hands trying to distract himself from the thoughts about the past.

"oh."

there was a beat of silence where the both of you didn't dare to look at each other, too afraid to make things weird. only the faint conversations of the tv and the sounds of the marker on paper were heard.

"look, i'm really sorry for dumping all this on you." seonghwa gestures to an oblivious yeojin. "i know you probably weren't expecting a child tonight or any of this really. i completely understand if you don't want to talk again or you need space. whatever you want, i'll do."

"it's okay,"

"i-you're not mad?" seonghwa asks in shock.

"i mean i'm not mad. i understand not bringing up a daughter on the first date. but i'm just a little disappointed you didn't tell me sooner." you confess.

"i didn't want to lose you."

"seonghwa-"

"i was trying to plan the perfect time to talk about yeojin but i just got so swamped with everything that time slipped through my fingers and you had to find out in such a shitty way."

your eyes dart towards a sleepy yeojin on seonghwa's lap at the curse word. even he jumps a little at his realization and then calms down when he realized that his baby girl was almost knocked out in his lap.

"would you have told me before we made things official?" you ask, testing the waters about how serious you could go tonight with the questions.

"yes. most definitely yes. i couldn't just ask you to be my partner and then surprise you that i have a whole child that i've been hiding from you."

interesting. so was he going to tell you about yeojin soon? was he going to make things official?

seonghwa could see the gears turning in your head at his words. "it sounds hypocritical now but trust me i really wanted you two to meet. i just-i really like you y/n."

you go quiet. processing everything he was saying. from what he was saying there was a very very high chance he wants you to be his like officially his but even if he actually wanted to make things official, he has a whole child. a child without a mother. were you really ready to take on the responsibility to be one? or anything similar to that role?

being with seonghwa meant much more than just being together and loyal to one another. being honest, you didn't mind yeojin. so far you got along great with her but a single interaction and convo won't predict the future of your relationship with her. it's a lot definitely but-

"y/n," seonghwa softly says pulling you out from your daze, "i'll be right back i'm gonna put yeojin down in her room."

you hum in response, letting your thoughts consume you once more.

your brain was beginning to ache because of how much you were thinking but one thing was for certain. you really liked seonghwa. enough that you were willing to accept everything that came with him - including yeojin.

you reminded yourself that dating seonghwa didn't mean automatically becoming a parent all of a sudden. he wasn't asking that of you. probably won't for a long time. he wants you for you. it's just a bonus you got along with yeojin so far.

there was a soft click of the door closing that made you turn your head. you look over to see seonghwa awkwardly make his way over to you, uncertainty written all over his face.

"i'm sorry for going quiet on you." you apologize, fingers toying with the hem of your cardigan once more. "i was just thinking."

a quiet laugh escapes seonghwa, "it's okay, don't worry about it. i'm sure tonight was a lot. but-"

"listen, seonghwa," oh here it comes. the "i'm so sorry, i don't think this will work out anymore". "i don't know what your plans were for us but regardless of what happened tonight, i want to be more. i know you having a whole kid might make things difficult or a little confusing but, i'm willing to try with you."

seonghwa felt his heart drop and then pick back up again when you finished talking. he didn't know what to say. he was grateful, excited, but most of all relived.

"so, how does another date this thursday night," seonghwa pauses, trying to not choke on his words, "as mine sound?"

"are you finally asking me to be your partner, park seonghwa?" you smile. it's finally happening.

"yes." seonghwa breathes out, truly terrified of your answer.

"then yes, i would love to." you answer, wrapping your arms around seonghwa's neck.

"sounds good then my love." seonghwa mumbles, his heart racing and his head buzzing from the overwhelming night but it didn't matter to him.

you were finally his.

[rockingbytheseaside]

✦ An Endearing Infestation

Tw: none, silly fluff

It started with catching one of those tiny rascals in your house as you cleaned. No bigger than the size of your palm, a tiny blob of soot-like ink was accidentally caught amidst your vacuuming when you tidied up your house in your Serenitea Pot. You didn't even comprehend it resembled a small bird chick with one crimson eye since the small thing got frightened and scurried off underneath your couch. Any attempts to look for it were futile.

Another time, you were certain you caught two identical ones playing in the closet before sprinting with a hurried squeak when you stepped into the room. You started doubting your eyesight at first, before speculating the worst - some sort of an infestation in your pristine clean house. Yet your worries were settled aside when you finally managed to take a closer look at the many little birds that found residence within the crooks of your house. Fluffy in an unkempt manner, they were tiny birds that stared at you with their single crimson eye and a tiny crest on their round soot-colored bodies. You could almost chuckle at how silly these weird creatures were, but you couldn’t deny their cuteness. They were afraid you would kick them away, or even shoo them with a broom - but you’re not that heartless. 

The entourage of identical yet tiny blobs often observed you. They appeared curious about the many things you did in your Serenitea Pot. When you read in your study, they would play with the books. When you cooked food in your kitchen, some of the tiny birds would try and help you by pushing the spice rack closer or bringing more stems of herbs. And on late, cold nights, when you’d light up the fireplace in the guest room, even the timidest of the bunch would come out from their hiding spot to huddle neatly for warmth. They were easily spooked by the tiniest of movements, so you did not disturb their gentle napping when they fluffed up their pitch-black feathers and clustered close to you for heat. It was a charming sight.

Nevertheless, you are yet to discover where these little rascals came from. You never encountered them during your travels in Teyvat, that's for sure. However, something about those round eye orbs of theirs seemed familiar… There must be a source. And most importantly, why would these rascals broaden in quantity when a certain Fatui Doctor stays in your Serenitea Pot?

Your brain instantly conjured up a thought, like a detective reaching a moment of eureka when solving a mystery  - Dottore. 

With a grumble and a whine, you had to confront him. To no one's surprise, the Harbinger found solace in your Serenitea Pot, often spending time in your study or directly bothering you. It’s a habit of his, like a daily routine. Thus, you stormed upstairs to your library where he lingered, and saw him sitting casually by the desk. 

Dottore wasn’t reading. He wasn’t mulling over some papers or research. No, he was plainly sitting and peeking somewhere behind the table.

“Dottore,” - you declared his name firmly. “Whatcha got there?”

The man glances at you neutrally; no surprise or dismissive groans. Yep, this man is concealing something. He replies nonchalantly: “Nothing. Just my morning coffee, as you can clearly see. Perhaps you need a vision check, dear?”

You give him the look. A look of raised eyebrows and a glare that says ‘Oh really now?’. Dottore's mouth pressed into a thin line, silently holding the mug. He remained eerily still and silent as if you tested each other through nonverbal communication.

And yet neither of you broke the silence, but instead, a small birdttore peeked from the Doctor’s mug. Even when the little thing caught your scrutinizing gaze and tried to hide in the mug, its single-feathered crest was still visible from the mug.

“There isn’t even any coffee in your mug, Dottore!” - you huffed in an astounded manner, placing your hands on your hips. “Come on, spill it out. How many of those wee bird-things you’ve got hiding?”

“I literally have no idea what you’re rambling about. Don’t be outrageous.” - He replied in such an easy and dismissive manner; it would’ve been believable were it not for that impish smirk that tried to break free on his face.

“Dottore, there is one peeking in your mug and I can see another one hiding by the chair. Perhaps you’re the one who requires his vision checked, hm?”

With a deep sigh and a mocking tone, his shoulders loosened and he reluctantly put down his facade - “Fine, you’ve got me. Consider this as an astute observation on your part. Are you pleased?”

As Dottore sat up more comfortably by the desk, the abundance of teeny ink blobs came out from their hiding. So minuscule yet wobbly, they gleefully revealed themselves and started scurrying everywhere. On the desk, by the floor, in Dottore’s mug… some even happily climbed onto your leg as you stood there, baffled. Dottore just watched with that giddy grin of his.

“... Okay, so, what are these? And why are there more of them in my house? Please tell me this isn’t some sort of an experiment gone wrong and now you’re disposing of them in my home, like getting rid of an infestation.”

“Infestation? Do not be ridiculous. It is clearly the opposite! A small experiment gone right, and now it's serving its purpose.”

“And that purpose is… what?” - You raised an eyebrow. Dottore stood up and smiled cheekily:

“Having bits and pieces of me to accompany you while I’m away.”

He replied so confidently as if it was ludicrous of you to not realize it earlier. Yes, of course. Creating sentient little bird things so your significant other wouldn’t be bored. So obvious!

“...Is this some sort of ritual or experiment that I am not aware of?” - You clasped your hands and asked suspiciously. Some of the tiny blobs climbed onto your head. “Because if this is your way of ‘marking your territory’ then excuse me. I didn’t know that mad scientists exercise such a custom.”  

“Oh shut it. You’re not even mad that I sneaked in so many of them when I visited you. It was comically easy to slip them every other day in your manor. That means they are serving their purpose accordingly. Stealthily keeping you company.” - Il Dottore smiled triumphantly, standing right in front of you.

“Wha-? I can barely handle one Dottore, and now you make me handle many tiny pieces of you? Countless silly little birdttores to keep an eye on me? No way!”  

“Sure, sure,” - The Doctor scoffed and laughed at your attempt at teasing. His one arm wrapped around your shoulder and pulled you for a much-needed kiss on the cheek. His lips pressing tightly and lingering on your skin. “There, can your endearing face handle just a couple more kisses or must I humbly request for that smile of yours to return?”

You rolled your eyes at him but didn't rebuttal.

Hence, the evening was spent the usual way. Resting by the couch, the fire crackled in the fireplace. And while you and Dottore relished in the rare opportunity of leisure time, the tiny birdttores huddled once more by your lap or perched on Dottore’s shoulder. The Harbinger kept his arm around you, allowing you to rest your head on his chest. Although you couldn’t see through his mask, his stern expression kept an eye on the teeny rascals, as if warning them not to disturb you at home if they didn’t want to be exterminated on the spot.

Therefore, all was well... But Dottore had to think of ways to lock the bedroom in the future so those scoundrels wouldn’t bother you two in bed.

➻ First time posting a fic here. Please tell me how I did! And if you wish to see a casual day with Dottore and his birbttores - here is my art! 

[hearts4werka]

NNN day 6 | Birthday Tears

summary: today was your birthday, the day you’ve never got to actually celebrate because of some family issues. Youve now always avoided your birthday and didn’t want to celebrate it, when you were coming home from the grocery store you were met with a sweet surprise when entering the house…

warnings: FLUFF, brief mentions of family issues but aside from that nothing else!

authors note: day 6 is now complete ! Big thanks to my honey @/strnilolover for the idea and the other ideas, luv u sm💋. And tysm for all of the support throughout this whole thing, I rlly appreciate very single one of you sm. Hope y’all enjoy this one

no nut november | masterlist | guestlist

The crisp autumn air hung in the space around me as I clutched the grocery bags and carried them home, each step filled with a heavy amount of memories I wish to forget everyday. Today was my birthday-the day I’ve avoided for many years now, it’s always been a battlefield in my family and it just serves as a reminder of fractured connections and unmet expectations. Each year I have tried to wish it away, for it to vanish and forever be forgotten by everyone on earth, pretending like the specific date held no significance to my well being.

I arrive at my shared apartment with my roommate Madi and set the bags down in the kitchen counter, the delicious scent of fresh basil and ripe tomatoes filling the air as a reminder to the pasta I was planning on making for tonight’s dinner for me and Madi if she wouldn’t be staying at her boyfriends house again. Just praying I won’t burn it, like it happened the previous times. I dismiss the slight sorrow hollowing a hole in my heart at the thought of others celebrating their birthday and looking forward to it, while I was avoiding it at every cost and turn I made.

My hands moved over to the grocery bags, taking each product outside and placing them one by one in the fridge at their designated spots. Just as I turn around, my attention was immediately brought to flickering lights coming from under the door leading to the living room. Did I forget to turn off the lamp before I left? Curiosity piqued as I took a step closer, my ears picking up the soft hum of perhaps my favorite sounds. Laughter but genuine, joyful laughter. Was the TV left turned on too alongside the lamp?

I paused for a moment, my heart slightly racing as trepidation coursed through me. Maybe it was best to retreat my steps back into the comfort of my lonely routine and worry about it later but something, perhaps a whisper of longing and something I lost a long time ago, pulled me towards the room without my consent. Cautiously I creaked open the door, expecting to see the same mess of a variety of items I was going to clean up when I got back home but instead I was met with colorful confetti scattered across the floor of the room along with a chorus of “Surprise!” Which caught me completely off guard.

The confetti danced in the air as I stood at the doorframe, completely surprised but then I scanned the living room. Alongside the festive chaos was standing my boyfriend, Christopher and surprisingly my roommate Madi without the presence of her boyfriend along with some of my other friends who managed to somehow scrunch into the small space of my modest living room. My heart swelled, shocked by their presence as it was unprepared for the flood of overwhelming emotions all coming down at once.

Chris moved to stand next to me, wrapping a loving arm around my waist and pulling me closer to his side as I admire the whole surprise still. “Happy birthday, ma” He celebrated, glancing down and chuckling at how well the surprise worked on me. The warmth of his small embrace scattered across my whole body and enveloped me in a safe space I never knew I needed to feel, urging away every of the shadows that clung to my heart on this day.

“What is all this?” I stammered, continuing to try and process the sight placed in front of me. On the small coffee table landed a homemade birthday cake topped off with several candles, decorations created from paper and a pile of gifts wrapped in pretty shiny wrapping paper. “We figured you finally needed to stop avoiding your birthday, everyone deserves to celebrate their birthday after all.” Madi beamed as she stepped closer to where me and Chris were standing while Chris adds, “We couldn’t let another year go by without making it special, y’know?”

Realization washes over me, the overwhelming kindness in their gesture felt like a balm to all of the years I’ve neglected my own birthday. I didn’t expect anyone to remember, let alone plan a whole celebration surprise party in my honor. “I- thank you guys. I honestly don’t know what to say.” I finally managed to speak, my voice faltering. I suddenly felt vulnerable, emotions catching right in my throat as the memories of family disappointment flooding back. Yet, while standing among my friends, a new warmth takes me into an embrace. This was love but uncomplicated and genuine which makes a soft tear roll down my cheek.

“Well let’s get this party started now, shall we?” Chris grinned, grabbing my hand and leading me to the couch, where they had already set up laughter-filled games and a playlist of my favorite songs. The atmosphere radiated with joy, and those initial bad memories and emotions I felt faded away, replaced with surprise and joy.

As we celebrated, each laugh, each honest word, chipped away at the walls I had put up to protect myself. The clinking of glasses, the sugary taste of cake, and the joy in my friends' eyes began to stitch together the lost fragments of my broken heart. I realized I wasn’t celebrating the absence of what had been, but rather embracing the promise of what could finally be.

When the time comes to blow out the candles, I wish for something different this year. Not for the day to disappear and be forgotten, but for the future where birthdays would mean love and connection. Laughter and joy echoes through the walls of my soul, when I open my eyes I was met with smiling faces, and I knew, despite all that had been, today had changed my perspective on birthdays.

This birthday was the beginning of a newfound respect for the day I had so long tried to erase—a day I could finally acknowledge as my own, filled with sweetness, acceptance, and the warmth of friendship. Today, I felt more than just celebrated; I felt alive.

Guestlist!

| - @sturnsxplr-25 - @strnzzvsp - @luvvs4chriss - @sturniolosweetheart33 - @pussypie456 - @choclatestarfishwithahat - @venusxsturnio - @bagsbyclair0 - @sturnstvs - @dykes4chris - @hoe4matt - @cayleeuhithinknot - @strnilolover - @marrykisskilled - @phone4pills - @emely9274 - @cupiidk1lls - @lily-strnlo - @nicksgirlfriend - |

[regressionschool]

the pull-ups to Pampers pipeline

Tim stood in front of the mirror, examining his reflection. He wore a pair of snug, brightly colored boxers that seemed slightly out of place on his adult frame. His girlfriend, Amy, had been encouraging him to wear them, claiming they looked cute. He had shrugged and decided to give them a try a few weeks ago.

"Come on, Timmy," Amy called from the bedroom, her tone playful. "Let's see how you look!"

He stepped out, feeling a bit self-conscious. Amy's eyes lit up when she saw him. "Aw, don't you look adorable!" she cooed, walking over and giving his bottom a gentle pat. "They fit perfectly!"

Tim blushed, not used to this kind of attention. Amy grinned and handed him a pair of Pull-Ups. "But I got you something even better," she said, her eyes twinkling. "These are even more comfy and fun."

Tim hesitated but then seeing Amy’s smile "Okay, why not?" he said, slipping off the boxers and stepping into the Pull-Ups. The snug fit and the crinkling sound they made were odd but strangely comfortable. Amy clapped her hands, delighted.

"You look so cute!" she exclaimed. "Now you don't have to worry about little accidents."

Tim laughed, thinking she was just being playful. Little did he know, this was just the beginning.

A few weeks had passed, and Tim had grown used to wearing Pull-Ups around the house. They were surprisingly comfortable, and Amy's constant praise made him feel good about himself. One lazy afternoon, Tim was lounging on the couch, watching TV. He felt a slight urge to pee but didn't feel like getting up. He thought, "Why not?" and let go, feeling the warmth spread through the Pull-Up.

Amy walked in just as he finished. "Did my little Timmy have an accident?" she teased, her tone light but condescending. Tim blushed but nodded, expecting her to be annoyed.

Instead, Amy smiled and hugged him. "That's good, sweetheart. That's what your Pull-Ups are for. Let's get you changed." She led him to the bedroom, where she had a fresh Pull-Up ready. Tim lay down, feeling a mix of embarrassment and comfort as Amy cleaned him up and put on the new Pull-Up.

"There we go," she said, patting his padded bottom. "All better. See? No need to worry about anything."

Tim stood in the bathroom, staring at himself in the mirror. The Pull-Ups had become a regular part of his routine, even more so after he’d started having the occasional nighttime accident. It was just easier to wear them, he told himself, especially with how supportive Amy was. Still, he couldn't help but feel a little embarrassed every time he woke up in a damp Pull-Up.

One night, as they were getting ready for bed, Tim felt a familiar urge but was too sleepy to get up. He sighed, deciding it would be fine to just let go. The warm, spreading sensation was comforting in a strange way, and he drifted back to sleep without a second thought.

Morning came, and as Tim stretched and yawned, he felt a wet, cold sensation around his hips. The Pull-Up had leaked. He sighed, a bit frustrated with himself as he looked down at the damp sheets.

Amy came in just then, noticing the wet spot. “Oh, Timmy,” she said softly, her voice a mix of sympathy and something else—almost like she had been expecting this. “Looks like your Pull-Up wasn’t enough last night.”

Tim blushed, feeling like a little kid who had wet the bed. Amy, ever the comforting partner, quickly reassured him. “It’s okay, sweetie. It happens. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

That night, after dinner, Amy approached Tim with a different package in her hands. She pulled out a thick diaper, the crinkling sound unmistakable. Tim’s eyes widened slightly.

“After last night, I think it’s time we try these,” Amy said, her tone gentle but firm. “These will keep you dry all night, and you won’t have to worry about leaks anymore.”

Tim hesitated, glancing between the diaper and Amy’s reassuring smile. “I... I don’t know, Amy. Isn’t this a bit much?”

Amy shook her head and patted the bed, encouraging him to lie down. “Not at all, Timmy. This is just for extra protection. You’ll sleep so much better knowing you’re completely safe from accidents.”

Tim sighed and reluctantly agreed, lying back as Amy expertly taped the diaper around his waist. The difference in thickness was obvious, and Tim felt a bit more self-conscious as he stood up, the bulk between his legs making him waddle slightly.

Amy smiled, giving him a kiss on his padded bum. “There you go, all set for bed. Doesn’t that feel better?”

Tim nodded, though the crinkling sound that followed his every move was something he would need to get used to. As they snuggled into bed, Tim couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted.

Yet, as he drifted off to sleep, the thick diaper providing a strange sense of security, Tim found that he didn’t mind it as much as he thought he would. Maybe, just maybe, Amy was right—this was better and after all, he only had to wear them at night.

Early morning light filtered through the blinds, casting a soft glow across the living room where Tim sat on the floor, deeply engrossed in his video game. The crinkle of his diaper was barely audible over the sound effects emanating from the screen. He was completely absorbed, his fingers deftly maneuvering the controller.

Amy, still in her pajamas, walked in, rubbing sleep from her eyes. She paused, watching Tim for a moment, a fond smile tugging at her lips. Noticing the sag in his diaper, she approached and sat down beside him.

“Morning, Timmy,” she said softly, her voice still thick with sleep. “Why didn’t you wake me for a diaper change? You look like you’ve been up for a while.”

Tim glanced at her, a slight blush coloring his cheeks. “I didn’t want to wake you, Mommy. You looked so peaceful sleeping, and I was just playing my game. I didn’t mind the diaper.”

Amy reached over, gently squeezing his shoulder. “Sweetheart, you know I don’t mind getting up to take care of you. You shouldn’t have to sit in a soggy diaper just because I’m sleeping.”

Tim looked down, fiddling with the controller. “I know, Amy. I just… I kind of forgot. It really doesn’t bother me.”

Amy nodded, a smile dawning on her face. “Okay, sweetie. But remember, it’s no trouble for me. Let’s get you changed now, okay?”

Tim found himself in another pressing situation as he strolled through the park with Amy. The sun was shining, birds chirping, and everything seemed perfect—except for the growing pressure in his stomach. They’d been out for a while, and the nearest bathroom was all the way across the park. Tim tried to ignore the urge, focusing instead on Amy's cheerful chatter, but each step made it harder to hold it in.

“I think we should start heading back,” Tim suggested, trying to keep his voice steady. He could feel the sweat forming on his forehead as the urge grew more intense.

Amy looked up at him, noticing his strained expression. “Are you okay, Timmy? You don’t look so good.”

Tim bit his lip, trying not to panic. “I… I just really need to go to the bathroom.”

Amy’s eyes softened with understanding. She glanced around the park, seeing how far they were from the nearest restroom. “Oh, sweetie,” she said gently, placing a comforting hand on his arm. “I don’t think we’re going to make it in time. You might want to just… let go.”

Tim’s eyes widened in shock. “But… but I have to go poopies,” he stammered, his face flushing red. The idea of doing that in his Pull-Ups, out in public, was mortifying.

Amy’s tone was soothing, but there was a hint of firmness in it. “Timmy, it’s okay. I’m here. You don’t need to worry about accidents.”

Tim felt his resolve weakening. The pressure was becoming unbearable, and the bathroom was so far away. Despite his best efforts to hold on, his body betrayed him. A faint crinkling sound accompanied the warm, spreading sensation as his Pull-Ups filled up. Tim’s eyes squeezed shut in embarrassment, unable to believe what he’d just done.

Amy noticed immediately and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a comforting hug. “Shhh, it’s okay, Timmy,” she whispered soothingly into his ear. “You did your best, but sometimes accidents happen. There’s no need to be embarrassed.”

Tim leaned into her, his face buried in her shoulder. He felt a mix of shame and relief, the warmth in his Pull-Ups both uncomfortable and oddly reassuring. But this was different—worse, somehow—than just wetting himself at home. He had really tried to make it to the bathroom, but it was like his body just couldn’t hold on anymore.

Tim looked down, his thoughts swirling. He remembered how comforting the thick diapers had felt at night, how they made him feel safe and secure. He mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper. “ I don’t know. Maybe this is a sign that I should be wearing… you know… a diaper.”

Amy’s eyes lit up with surprise and excitement. She had been slowly guiding Tim to this point, but she hadn’t expected him to suggest it himself. “Oh, sweetie,” she said softly, her voice full of warmth.

Tim blushed as Amy carefully removed his messy Pull-Up and wiped him clean with gentle care. The crinkling of the fresh diaper as she unfolded it sent a shiver down his spine, the thickness much more noticeable than the Pull-Ups he’d been wearing. Amy expertly taped the diaper snugly around his waist, her hands moving with practiced ease. Tim felt a strange mix of emotions—embarrassment, yes, but also a deep sense of relief. The thick padding between his legs felt familiar and comforting, like a protective barrier against the world.

Amy helped him sit up, patting his padded bottom affectionately. “There you go, all snug and safe,” she said with a smile. “How does that feel?”

Tim shifted slightly, feeling the bulk of the diaper as he moved. It was a little awkward at first, but as he settled back into the car seat, he couldn’t deny the comfort it provided. “It… it feels better,” he admitted softly, his cheeks still tinged pink.

Amy beamed and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before buckling him back into the seat. “I’m so glad to hear that, Timmy,” she said, her voice full of warmth. “Now you don’t have to worry about anything. Just relax and enjoy the ride home.”

As they drove, Tim found himself sinking into the comfort of the thick diaper. He stared out the window, watching the world pass by, when he suddenly felt a all to familiar warmth spreading between his legs. He blinked in surprise, realizing that he hadn’t even noticed the urge this time. The diaper absorbed everything effortlessly, and Tim felt a strange sense of freedom knowing he didn’t have to worry about holding it anymore.

Amy glanced over at him, noticing the slight blush on his cheeks. She reached over and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. “Feels nice, doesn’t it?” she asked softly.

Tim nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Yeah… it does,” he admitted, his voice full of contentment.

Amy smiled back, her heart swelling with pride and affection. “I’m so proud of you, Timmy. You’re doing great.”

Amy watched from the doorway, a soft smile playing on her lips. She had seen how much Tim had changed over the past few months. The little hesitations, the self-consciousness—those had all but disappeared. In their place was a relaxed, carefree version of Tim, content and happy in his padded state.

"Timmy," Amy called softly, walking over to him. "How's my little boy doing?"

Tim looked up, his eyes lighting up as he saw her. "Hi, Mommy!" he chirped, his voice carrying a hint of childish excitement. He gestured proudly to his legos. "Look, I made a farm!"

Amy knelt beside him, admiring his work. "Wow, that's amazing, sweetie! You're so good at building."

Tim beamed at the praise, clapping his hands together in delight. Amy ruffled his hair affectionately, then glanced down at his diaper. She noticed the slight sag in the front and the way the material was puffier than before.

"Timmy, did you use your diaper?" she asked gently, already knowing the answer.

Tim blinked, as if just realizing what she'd said. He shifted slightly, feeling the warm, squishy sensation around his bottom. A small giggle escaped him as he nodded. "Uh-huh, but I didn’t notice. I was too busy playing."

Amy smiled and gave his soggy diaper a soft pat. "That’s okay, sweetie. That’s what your diaper is for, remember? To keep you comfy and dry while you play."

Tim nodded, his attention already drifting back to his toys. Wet diapers had become such a regular part of his life that he didn’t even think twice about them. In fact, it had been days—maybe even weeks—since he last used the toilet. The diapers were just... easier. They let him stay in his little world, where everything was soft, simple, and fun.

Timmy sat on the plush carpet in the corner of the living room, surrounded by a colorful assortment of blocks and stuffed animals. He was humming a little tune to himself, entirely absorbed in stacking the blocks as high as they would go. His diaper, thick and crinkly, peeked out from beneath the pastel-colored onesie Amy had dressed him in that morning. The soft fabric was adorned with cartoon animals, and the snaps at the crotch made it easy for Amy to change him whenever needed—a task that had become a routine part of their day.

Amy sat on the couch with two other women, their conversation drifting between sips of tea. They spoke in low voices, occasionally glancing over at Timmy with fond smiles. He was blissfully unaware of the discussion, his focus solely on the wobbly tower he was building.

"And he’s like this all the time now?" one of the women, Karen, asked, her eyes wide with curiosity as she watched Timmy giggle to himself.

Amy nodded, a proud smile on her lips. "Yes, he is. It took some time, but once he got used to the Pull-Ups, things just… progressed naturally. He didn’t even notice when he stopped going to the toilet. Now, he’s just my sweet little baby boy."

The other woman, Laura, leaned in closer, her voice full of intrigue. "How did you do it? My husband would never agree to something like this."

Amy chuckled softly, glancing over at Timmy, who was now babbling happily to his stuffed bear. "It’s all about patience," she explained. "I started with the Pull-Ups, telling him they were just for convenience. At first, it was just around the house. Then, little by little, I encouraged him to use them. Made it sound like it was no big deal. He was hesitant at first, but I kept reassuring him, praising him every time he did. It wasn’t long before he started using them without thinking."

Karen watched Timmy with a mix of amazement and amusement. "And now he’s just… like this?"

Amy nodded, her smile widening. "He’s completely regressed. Doesn’t even notice when he wets himself anymore. It’s all second nature to him now. He’s happy, carefree, and he loves all the attention. Plus, he calls me Mommy now—it’s the sweetest thing."

Timmy, oblivious to the conversation, gave his block tower a final pat, then turned to his stuffed bear. "Look, Teddy!" he said in a high-pitched, sing-song voice, "I did it! Big tower!" He clapped his hands, giggling as the tower wobbled precariously.

The women exchanged knowing glances, each lost in their own thoughts about how this might work in their own relationships. Laura, who had been taking mental notes, leaned forward, her voice curious. "But doesn’t he… resist at all? I mean, he used to be an adult."

Amy shook her head, her expression calm and confident. "Not anymore. Once he started to rely on the diapers, he just let go of all those adult worries. Now, he’s happiest when he’s like this—no responsibilities, no stress. Just my little Timmy, playing all day."

Karen couldn’t help but smile as she watched Timmy shake his plush bear in excitement, his diaper crinkling loudly with every movement. "He’s adorable," she said softly, her tone almost envious. "And he really doesn’t care anymore, does he?"

Amy’s eyes twinkled with pride. "No, he doesn’t. He’s fully embraced being my little one. And honestly, I think it’s better for him. He’s more relaxed, more content. And I get to take care of him, just like I’ve always wanted."

Timmy suddenly crawled over to Amy, tugging gently at her skirt to get her attention. “Mommy,” he lisped, looking up at her with wide, innocent eyes. “Look what Teddy did! Teddy made a big tower!”

Amy beamed down at him, reaching out to pat his head affectionately. “That’s wonderful, sweetie! You and Teddy are so clever.”

Timmy giggled, clapping his hands in delight before toddling back to his play area, his soggy diaper sagging heavily between his legs. Laura noticed Amy’s gaze and followed it to Timmy’s soggy bum. "Does he need a change?" she asked, her voice full of curiosity.

Amy nodded, but there was no rush in her movements. "He does, but there’s no need to hurry. He’s perfectly comfortable, and it’s not like he notices anyway."

Karen chuckled softly. "You’ve really thought of everything, haven’t you?"

Amy shrugged modestly, though her smile was full of pride. "It’s just about knowing what he needs. And right now, he needs this—his diaper, his toys, his Mommy. That’s all that matters."

[topazy]

Teen spirit

Pairing: Carl Grimes × reader

Warnings: Swearing, minor violence

Chapter: 7.02

“Do you need any help?”

“No,” your voice cracks. “I’m fine... but thank you.”

Michonne clears her throat. “Rosita is just down the hall if you need anything. I’m going to go get some clean bandages.”

You nod.

Michonne stares at you for a moment, a sympathetic look on her face, before hesitantly closing the bathroom door. Unlike the house you lived in that only had showers, this one has a bathtub with a shower head attached to the wall. You turn the tap, switching it on; you step back, giving the water a chance to heat up.

You catch your reflection in the mirror; the sight of tangled strands of hair stuck together with blood causes you to almost throw up.

Feeling completely defeated, you step into the bath, wincing because of the pulling sensation on your stitches, then slowly sit down in the tub. Your clothes stick to your body as the warm water sprays over you, and you watch in silence as the foul-colored water, which is darkened by blood and dirt, starts to disappear down the drain.

You're unsure how much time has passed when the door opens. There’s a brief pause before then you hear Carl’s trembling voice, “Can I come in?”

“Yeah.”

He places folded-up towels on the closed toilet lid and sits on the floor beside the tub. You feel Carl grab your hand, and immediately you feel tears well up in your eyes as you think about what Negan tried to do to him, what he tried to make Rick do to his son.

“I should have gone with Maggie,” you eventually say. “I should have stayed with my sister.”

“Selfishly, I’m glad you didn’t; I don’t want to feel alone.”

—

You watch from Carl’s bedroom as the saviors carry chairs, mattresses, food, and weapons to their vans. What the hell did they need all that stuff for? To refurbish their den. You shake your head in disgust watching as Father Gabriel approaches Negan.

“That asshole said we had a week.”

Carl gently pulls you away from the window so you are out of sight. Only a few days have passed since Glenn and Abraham were killed, their blood no doubt still a stain where they died, and Negan was already at the gates of your home looking for half of—well, everything.

“I know you’re beyond pissed, but someone needs to stay with Judith. She’s starting to fuss, and he doesn’t know about her yet. He can’t know.”

You swallow down all the curse words that come to mind. The saviors were getting more rowdy as they stole more belongings and scared more people. “Okay, uh, I’ll take Judith into the attic, and if they ask about the baby stuff, just say we collected it for Maggie.”

“That’s a good idea… I’m sure Maggie and the baby are okay.”

You had gone to great lengths to avoid speaking about your sister at all costs because every time you spoke about her, you broke down in tears. You were desperate to see her, but you completely understood why, at the time, Michonne thought it was best for you to return to Alexandria with them instead. Maggie needed to focus on herself without worrying about you.

“That’s a good idea; I’ll go get her.”

Carl goes to leave, but you catch his hand and lean forward; your lips meet in a kiss. “I’ll stay hidden until you come and find me.”

—

Once the saviors start to drive away, Carl lets you know the coast is clear, and you finally join the rest of your community outside. You weren’t sure of everything that had happened, but Carl told you his dad had to rummage through Spencer’s home to find the guns he was hiding.

While he continues to talk, all you can think about is the anger pulsing through your body. Did Spencer not understand how dangerous these people are? It was surprising Negan didn’t kill anyone else.

Rick notices you holding Judith and waves you over; his daughter was really becoming the light to everyone’s darkness. With so much death, it was easy to want to give up, but her cute little face was a constant reminder to keep going, that there were things worth fighting for.

Noticing Spencer lingering behind him, you narrow your eyes. You don’t hear the full conversation, just the end of it, when you hand Judith over to her father.

“You got lucky with the wall; you got lucky with us.” Rick holds his daughter with one arm and slings the other over your shoulder while walking slowly in the opposite direction. “How are you holding up? Carl told me about your plan. I’m thankful, but you're supposed to be taking it easy—”

“We should have made a deal with them when we could’ve.” Not getting a reaction, Spencer waits until Rick’s further away and shouts, “Oh yeah, we got so lucky. You’ve led us all to the promised land! Isn’t that right, Rick? Here we are! I guess Glenn and Abraham were lucky, too?”

Oh hell no.

You spin fast on your heels and storm towards him. “What was that?”

If it weren’t for Rick, you doubted most of you would still be alive. And for Spencer to bring Glenn and Abraham into his petty argument was bullshit.

Spencer rolls his eyes. “Come on—”

In that moment you want him to feel the same type of hurt everyone else was, but you doubt he is capable of it and jab Spencer on the nose before he can finish his sentence. Rosita jumps out of the car and steps between the two of you. “Y/N, go back inside now. Inside, go.”

—

“You have a good right hook on you.”

“I’m not apologizing. Spencer was being an asshole.”

Carl holds his hands up defensively before coming to join you on the floor. The saviors had taken all the mattresses from his house, so you’d be sleeping on the remaining blankets and pillows, which couldn’t have come at a more inconvenient time. Your actions earlier had come back and bitten you in the ass, and your side was now in agonizing pain again.

You hold eye contact while searching Carl’s face for any sign of what he’s feeling. “What’s going on?”

He chews on his bottom lip for a few moments before answering. “I overheard my dad and Michonne talking. Judith is Shane’s.”

Not knowing what to say, you rest your head on his shoulder. Everything was a mess. You had heard whispers while living on the farm and at the prison, but once Lori died, they stopped. “He loves her as much as he loves you.”

“My dad was shot in the line of duty, then a few days later the outbreak happened. I was devastated; I thought I’d lost my dad and my mom… my mom. Shane was his best friend.”

You sit in silence for some time while Carl processes this new information; his hands are trembling. Your eyes are closed until you feel soft lips pressing against the crown of your head. “I thought it was pretty badass when you punched Spencer.”

“Hmm, I’m not sure anyone else thought that.” You look up at all the small holes in the door where Carl has been throwing darts; since his vision was compromised, he was missing the board and hitting the door. You link your fingers with his, “I want to see Maggie. I need to know how she is, how the baby is.”

Carl looks deep in thought; eventually, he scoffs. “If it wasn’t for Negan, you could be with her… I know how to put things right.”

[starbright349]

Beautiful Angel (Adam X Female Angel Reader)

In the celestial realms of Heaven, where ethereal beauty and eternal joy abound, lived Adam, the first man, and his heavenly bride, (Y/N). Their love was a reflection of divine grace, a union that transcended time itself. Today marked a special occasion—the anniversary of their celestial marriage.

(Y/N) woke up early, her luminous wings fluttering with excitement. She decided to surprise Adam with his favorite breakfast, a celestial feast that radiated with the essence of love. The aroma of ambrosial delights filled the air as she floated through the heavenly abode, preparing the breakfast with celestial ingredients.

She wasn't worried too much. She had left a lot of small hints about their anniversary for the past few days, so Adam wouldn't forget.

As the sun began to cast its golden rays across the heavenly realm, (Y/N) glanced at the mirror and decided to add a touch of celestial charm to her appearance. She decided to wear her favorite outfit that had her favorite colors on it. With a subtle touch of makeup that accentuated her otherworldly beauty, she felt ready to captivate Adam's heart once more.

Downstairs in the kitchen, (Y/N) placed the heavenly spread on a table adorned with flowers that emanated a fragrance only found in paradise. The aroma wafted through the air, and the anticipation of their anniversary celebration filled her with joy.

Feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness, Adam ascended from their bedroom to the kitchen. "Morning babe." Adam yawned with sleepy eyes as he walked to his wife. "Good morning, Adam." (Y/N) and planted a kiss on his cheek. He smiled softly and went to take his seat that table. Once his eyes were adjusted to being awake. Adam noticed his favorite breakfast on the table.

"Whoa, you made my favorite? What's the occasion?" Adam knew that you only severed his favorite breakfast on special occasions... or when you really, really wanted something. "Oh, no occasion, just wanted to make something special for my special husband."

(Y/N) smiled and fluttered her eyes at Adam, but all he did was shrug his shoulders and dug into his breakfast. Prior to this day, (Y/N) had been dropping hints for days, hoping that Adam wouldn't forget their special day.

As they both ate together, talking about random things. (Y/N) didn't bring up the topic of anniversary's since she wanted to see what would happen if she just let the day happen and not make anything happen.

Once Adam was done with his breakfast, he placed his dishes in the sink and washed them off. "I wish I could stay here longer babe, but I gotta get to Sera, she needs something important. I don't fuckin know I wasn't paying attention." (Y/N) looked at Adam with a little disappointment, "Aww, but you've been working with Sera for weeks, and I was hoping you would clear you schedule today. I wanted to spend some time with you."

Adam gave (Y/N) a smile and walked up to and lead to her level. "I know baby, but Sera needs this, according to her 'I need to do my part, in my Heavenly responsibilities." Adam said trying to imamate Sera, but it was really bad. "I'll be home in a few hours." Adam kissed her forehead and flew upstairs to get ready.

Sighed disappointedly and picked up the leftover dishes on the table and put them in the sink, but she had hope that Adam was going to do something special for her when he came down stairs.

As (Y/N) was cleaning up breakfast, Adam was about to walk out the door. "Later babe." Thats all he said before a shut the door and flew away. He didn't even say 'I love you.' or 'Happy Anniversary.'

Now instead of feeling sad, she felt angry and sad. She had a whole day planned for them, after breakfast (Y/N) wanted to their favorite cafe for their favorite trats and drinks, then go to the park where they had their first date. It was a picnic date, then they would come home and watch the first movie they watched together, and after words. (Y/N) would make Adam his favorite food, ribs, and maybe some nightly action in the bedroom. ;)

Having these feelings inside her, jumble up into a big mess. She fell to her knees and cried. (Y/N) didn't know why, maybe it was because he forgot, or because she thought that Adam didn't love as much anymore.

Either way, she was still very upset at Adam.

*A few Hours Later*

The whole day, until nightfall. (Y/N) spent crying or feeling sorry for herself and her marriage. She remembers how things were so much simpler then when they first got married, Adam used to make time for her and only her.

He would always shower her in love, attention, and affection. As she would do the same thing to him. But with these past few weeks, and Adam disappearing for hours, gone for entire nights even. (Y/N) feared that her and Adam's marriage was dying.

As she was on the couch with a blanket wrapped around her, watching the movie that her and Adam were meant to watch together. The door suddenly opened to reveal Adam, with a smile on his face that used to make (Y/N) melt, but instead she saw it as a stupid boy look.

"Hey babe." Adam said and walked up to (Y/N) to leaned down to kiss her. But the damage was done, and (Y/N) felt a wave of frustration wash over her as she pushed his face back with her hand. "Piss of Adam." (Y/N) said, clearly annoyed.

Adam looked at (Y/N) in confusion but he changed the look on his face. "Look (Y/N), I know that is short notice and your pissed off at me for something. But I really need you to and get dressed for an event." (Y/N) looked at with her 'death stare.' More annoyed than ever that Adam not only forgot their anniversary but also had the audacity to ask her to an event, possible one that would make him look better.

"I would rather choke on a sandpaper cock than do that, but then again. Being married to you, there really is no difference since you are quite a dick yourself." (Y/N) said as put on half on the blanket on her head for warmth.

"Babe listen, the clock is ticking here, and we don't have much time. So, I need you to get dressed right now." "Piss off!" (Y/N) said while filling her husband off. At the point, Adam was getting really annoyed with his wife's actions, he walked and stood in front of her, then tore the blanket off (Y/N) and leaned Infront of her face. "I am giving you one more chance wifey. Go and get ready for the event, otherwise I'll make you."

(Y/N) stood up and stared at Adam for a moment before she slapped him.

Adam held his face for a few seconds before he grabbed her waist and picked her up and put her on his shoulder. "Adam what are you-" "Sorry babe, but we don't have a lot of time." Adam said while holding (Y/N) tightly as she struggled and yelled. Adam led (Y/N) out of the house and flew away.

*A few minutes later*

Adam had taken (Y/N) to a dark spot in Heaven, she didn't care where she was, she wanted to get out of Adam's grip. Once Adam landed on the ground, he finally put (Y/N) down after what seemed like hours but it actually 15-20 minutes' worth of flying.

(Y/N) landed hard on her ass, but once she got up, she started scolding Adam, as he had a stupid smile on his face, almost like a smirk. "What the fuck Adam?! If you couldn't tell already, I'm very pissed at you. And you wanna know why? It's because you forgot our-"

Before (Y/N) could finish her sentence, the lights suddenly turned on to reveal a bunch of her and Adam's friends dressed up, fairy lights, a bunch of her and Adam's favorite food and alcohol on a table in one corner and a stage.

"Surprise!" Everyone said. (Y/N) covered her mouth in shock, finally figuring out what was going on. Adam still had that smile on his face as he leaned down. "Happy anniversary babe." He said and kissed (Y/N)'s cheek, she then turned her head to him. "You did all this for me?"

Adam nodded and snaped his fingers that changed (Y/N)'s outfit into a beautiful dress, transformed her hair into her favorite style, and gave her some light makeup on her face. "No-one else but for you. You're my angel (Y/N), and I love you." (Y/N) smiled at her outfit and Adam's beautiful words. She jumped up and hugged him then kissed his lips.

Adam wanted to take a step further and decided to dip (Y/N) in the process. Their clapped and cheered for the couple. Once they pulled away, (Y/N) whispered to her husband. "I'm sorry for slapping you." "And I'm sorry for dragging you out of the house like that." They both chuckled and had one more kiss.

*A few more hours later*

(Y/N) and Adam were having a great time at their party, some friends giving them gifts, others sharing funny stories about them before/after they got married.

As (Y/N) talking to one of her friends, Adam stood up on the stage. Grabbing everyone's attention; including (Y/N)'s.

"This is my biggest gift for my beautiful wife, I love you (Y/N)."

(Adam): Hey. Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful angel.

(Y/N) walked slowly to the stage with a look of shock on her face.)

(Adam): Love your imperfections, every angle. Tomorrow comes and goes before you know. So, I just had to let you know.

(Adam pulls (Y/N) on stage and held one of her hands.)

(Adam): The way that Gucci look on you amazing.

(He then twirls (Y/N) around making her back face him, as he slides his free hand up her back)

(Adam): But nothing can compare to when you're naked.

(Y/N) blushes and turns around to playfully slap his hand away from her)

(Adam): Now a backwood and some Henny got you faded. Saying you the one for me, I need to face it.

(Adam starts walking around (Y/N) while giving that look that made her melt again.)

(Adam): Started when we were younger. Swear to God that I loved her. Sorry that your mom found out.

(Y/N) tried to hide her red face.)

(Adam): Guess that we just really had the thunder. Ain't nobody else that I'd be under. Beautiful, beautiful life right now. Beautiful, beautiful night right now. No no nooooo.

(Adam removed (Y/N)'s hands from her face and put his hand underneath her chin to make her look him)

(Adam): Hey. Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful angel. Love your imperfections, every angle.

(Adam brushed some hair behind (Y/N)'s ear as they both stared into each other's eyes)

(Adam): Tomorrow comes and goes before you know. So, I just had to let you know.

(Adam leaned into kiss (Y/N) on the lips again, but she stopped him, took the microphone from his hand.)

(Y/N): Oh, my God, where did the time go? I wish the hours would go slow, how is it 6 a.m?

(Y/N) started to dance seductively Infront of Adam, not caring about the other angels watching her.)

(Y/N): Your touch is heaven-sent. Beautiful, beautiful sight right now. Beautiful, beautiful life right now.

(Y/N) came close to Adam as she continued dancing.)

(Y/N): Got the angels singin' ooh-ah, right now like (ooh-ah). And this is why we got to touch (ah). Sometimes words are not enough (no)

(Y/N) put her finger up to her tongue and licked it, making sure to have some saliva on it)

(Y/N): Painted in your golden kiss. Honey dripping from your lips.

(Y/N) wiped her saliva covered finger on something that wasn't her dress.)

(Y/N): I thank God and my lucky stars. Darling, don't you know what you are?

(Y/N) fluttered her eyes at Adam, who was blushing but also smiling.)

(Y/N): Yeah, baby, you are. ~

(Adam put his one of hands on (Y/N)'s waist as she put one of her hands on his neck, and they both held the microphone together.)

(Adam/(Y/N): Hey (hey, baby). Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful angel (ooh).

(Adam and (Y/N) began to dance romantically, Adam even spinning (Y/N) in the air.)

(Adam/(Y/N): Love your imperfections, every angle (oh, no, yeah). Tomorrow comes and goes before you know (you know). So, I just had to let you know.

(Adam and (Y/N) continued to dance with each other, not taking their eyes off each other.)

(Adam/(Y/N): The way that Gucci look on you, amazin'. But nothing can compare to when you're naked.

(Adam and (Y/N) let go of each other for a moment before they clanged on to each other again.)

(Adam/(Y/N): Tomorrow comes and goes before you know. So, I just had to let you know (ah-ah, yeah). I just had to let you know. Swear to God, you're beautiful, yeah.

(Adam and (Y/N) started into each other's eyes again, before Adam dipped (Y/N) again and they both shared a passionate kiss.)

*End of the song*

Adam and (Y/N) continued to kiss each other until the claps and cheers of their friends interrupted them, they pulled away and looked at the audience for a moment before looking at each other again.

They both couldn't contain their laughter and put their foreheads together. "Thank you, Adam." "Your welcome babe." they stayed quiet for a moment. Before she spoke.

"I have your present back at home. And you get to unwrap it in bed, if you know what I mean."

(Y/N) winked at Adam. And once he heard that, he smiled.

"Oh, fuck yes."