#the boy from before regresses a bit

[writingworda]

Y'know what's weird? My very first actual characters.

I've been creating oc's for a lot longer than I can actually comprehend, however a lot of them were just one off drawings. They didn't have names or backgrounds or anything, they were just drawings.

My first actually fleshed out characters came about in seventh grade, where I made my icon character Mi.

Mi is a young girl with short puffy black hair, muted grey or black eyes, pale skin, and then whatever other detail is added for whatever story she's in. She's been in every single one of my larger projects up to this point. 'Dear You' was a name that came from my very first story, 'Dear Mi'

Dear Mi was a story I started in seventh grade, with of course Mi as the main character. The log is essentially that she's moved to a new school and doesn't have a great time. She amassed a friend group of a surprisingly diverse set of characters and manages to beat the odds.

The quirk of it though was that she had an 'imaginary friend' that was more like a paralysis demon without the paralysis. She would use this hallucination to talk to, and it would be the primary way she coped and engaged in introspection.

Mi's characterization in the very first story was kinda stereotypical? She liked music, she was pretty weak and cried a lot, but despite seeming quiet she did like to talk and often had a lot to say. Essentially I was writing me, since the whole coping with hallucinations and heavy emphasis on introspection is just how I was.

The way the story was odd because the main antagonist, a school bully, doesn't really stay a bully past chapter three. I don't remember what her name was, but the moment Mi's friend group started forming, the main antagonist sees their genuine connections and reflects on the relationships they have with their friend groups. The antagonist then tries to make an effort to have deeper and more honest relationships, and when that's ultimately rejected they abandon their old friend group to join Mi's.

Also, while Mi was the typical frail artsy girl who cried a lot, you'd think I'd then have a male counterpart who is the savior figure, but surprisingly I didn't. Instead, the male counterpart was the exact opposite, he felt extremely insecure and ashamed because he didn't feel like he was strong enough to support her.

Eventually he would learn that in order to support others he first needs to let people support him, and that it's in mutual comfort where he's actually needed. However I never got that far, because at the beginning I wrote him to be so internally problematic and so externally passive that I couldn't really make him interesting to the story except for when I was writing from his perspective. It was a cool subversion to come from a newbie author, but in the end I didn't have the skill set to make it work.

[littol-bun]

i love being an age regressor ૮ᴖﻌᴖა ♡⁠ tonight it feels very affirming and comforting. I've kind of always had to look out for myself and be my biggest supporter, and there are a lot of strange ways this feels like a second chilhood at times.

like i regress to being younger, but I'm also a girl now in a completely different place with completely different circumstances/social circles etc. yk?

but when i feel rly small and my reality feels so big, it makes me happy that older me is there for me to make the important decisions and guide us there :3 it's like i am holding my hand through this, i haven't had an adult rly look out for me like this and it's so nice to have one now!!

i don't have to be scared of big changes, I'm doing good and I'm here for me and i can take it easy. i have someone who is helping me ♡⁠ i have someone who is keeping me safe. they work hard so i can be little ^.^ thanks big sis hehe ✌🏾

ouggghh im not little anymore but (⁠｡⁠ﾉ⁠ω⁠＼⁠｡⁠) ♡⁠ yeah. when i am little i can still like.. function as an adult n talk to ppl n stuff. but it's also like, well like i said before ig 0:

like im smaller but different‚ subtly. still me‚ but someone else since I'm like.. a teen?? that i never was. my childhood was nothing like my adulthood so this rly is a whole new thing little me has needed to learn 2 navigate emotionally/mentally.

but as i become more aware of when I'm in a little headspace and not, the difference in perception stands out to me a lot more. i can't articulate it very well... oughh. this is giving me very specific questions, but on that note — i am happy to feel so safe and looked out for when I'm little 😌💕 i used to feel scared and helpless but it's different now. we're doing this together 👩🏽‍🤝‍👩🏾 i got ya lil sis

[katyspersonal]

When you started drawing? And how? Your works are so detailed and you feel the perspective so Q_Q Your drawing of old hunter from DLC is incredibly cool, I am looking respectfully

Oh- You mean this ( x ) one? Haha, yeah, it was an art commission, so I tried to give it the best I could... Though maybe using something I was paid for as a chance to practice perspective was a little irresponcible :') But the customer was happy, and this is what matters!

To be honest, I've been drawing for as long as I can remember...? I have quite the regrets about having basically none of my drawings from childhood survive, because it's been a LOT. But I've been going over the top with details, colors and settings since the age of like, 4-5 I think? I recall the caretakers at kindergarden REALLY loving my drawing of underwater, because I killed it with variety of fish and seaweed, despite having no references or knowledge! Also, fun fact - the very first art criticism of my life from me was towards a girl that colored every woman in her coloring book as blonde with blue eyes! I criticized her saying that there were other colors for people and that it was boring to be so samey dsfjjdshfsd Had to apologize, but.. yeah, it was the ultimate "I've always been this way" moment if I've seen one. :')

I used to visit classes to practice my drawing in elementary school, though! But it was mostly environment and animals, when I was more interested in drawing people at that time! The period from 8 to 12 years was the one where I kept creating OCs obsessively, and stories for them, and I've had like 6 comics I've been drawing and coloring at the same time (mostly comedy + fantasy)! I think what really inspired me to start creating the comics and characters that were mostly young girls with elemental powers was the Russian comic, Rainbow Knights x) (Журнал "Юла", припоминаешь? хд) I was obsessed with it, and I was obsessed with excuse to use more colors, effects and nature/elemental aesthetic. And yes, it was all trdaitional! I love using crayons, markers, pens and pencils for coloring. My clumsy hands were never good for paintbrushes... I moved more onto digital around the age of 14. It was when I've found a summer job, and earned enough money to buy a tablet! So.. I started prioritize digital art since then! But it had the form of me first drawing something on the paper, and then scanning and fixing/lining/coloring it on the computer for a LONG time! Well, it was taking some time to get used to, as well, so I also had some drawings I did with my mouse and vector tool in PS or SAI, like this:

It is one of the only few remaining "ancient" ones, since most of them got lost forever on the old hard drive! ...I still HAVE this hard drive, I just have no idea how to extract anything from it.. It is kinda broken :U But if I get my hands on very old doodles trapped there, I will share!

^ I believe this was the first doodle that I did 100% on the computer AND with the tablet! Without mouse, without first drawing traditonally and then digitally, but just on the computer, from start to finish! But it was still hard to do, so I kept with the use of paper and pencil for some more while. Like- I hoped I'd find some old drawings for this ask, but all I found were traditional versions of some of my drawings!

You could tell that using traditional paper + pencil were beneficial for anatomy and proportions. And that I used to be better at that, VERY much better. And that it was sorta... easier to 'get lost' in the process? It was a simpler life when not only I was far less depressed and broken, not only I had more spare time in schoo/uni years, but also just... I did not feel burnt out. Or guilty over the fact of not finishing new drawing "fast enough" (and thus, looking like a loser). I also had less things online to drain my spare time, less distractions... I kinda miss that time, really...

All in all, I've never learned to draw PROPERLY. I was self-taught but not studying too hard, mostly I was just analysing art of artists I loved to improve my own, and asking advice from good artists to fix this or that! Hence, my skill used to be better! Year 2015-16 was my most productive year artistically! I've been drawing a bunch of (then) popular cartoon stuff, as well as TONS of fanart for Rick and Morty RP community, and all the things were sooooo bright, colorful and full of energy...

And now meet the man that sorta ended my art career :^) I've picked interest in Mark (Endlish localisation called him Marx and I hate it lol), and that pulled me into the rest of K1rby. Except I could not actually play anything (besides 64 Crystal Shards that I emulated), so I compensated with letsplays and anime. And Super Paper Mario was a side obsession. xD But.... yeah, since MARK, dark ages for my art started. No, no, my art was good! Awesome, even! I kept people begging me to "please draw K1rby again" for years since fandom shifting! Words like, 'no one ever cared about this universe and characters the same way you do'... But! Drawing 'creatures' for 2-3 years completely destroyed my prior (already loose) knowledge of human anatomy and proportions, and I am still struggling to recover that former skill! :')

Finally, year later, around February/March 2021, I've gotten pulled into Bloodb0rne! Badly. And thanks to Mic0lash. Huh, it is always some madman, isn't it? xD But I felt very self-consious about my art... I felt like serious, detailed, dark and beautiful atmosphere of BB deserved better than my "overly cutesy" and "tone-deaf" art.... annnnd if this sounds like something I'd never say, but rather as an unfair criticism from some antsy reddit-ish asshole? It is because it is EXACTLY what it was! :')

But in either case, the Doll was the first time I've used paper and pencil again in many years. I felt so... alive? I recall the feeling I could only describe as 'blood returned in my veins' but spiritual, you know? It felt like so much fun! To remember how to draw traditonally, to break out of my 'round cutesy' comfort zone- heck, I even downloaded brushes for my SAI for the first time in my life, just to color the characters better! Learned new coloring style, too: usually my coloring was very rigid and relying on very concrete colors for shadow and base.. but from this point on, I prioritized more 'chaotic' approach, as I felt it was more appropriate!

....and so, now we are here. x)

You could tell that some of the things I am just used to persisted, and that colorful, "childish" energy is still slipping through the cracks. Soulsb0rne games are ideal for how my mind works... but perhaps not for how my soul works. There is just something in me that craves that sillyness, overly colorful designs and settings, and maybe ER is closer to that aesthetic? Yeah, had I not been criticized on my art harshly upon joining BB, maybe my art would've been way more cute and 'free'! I always loved drawing many details, but something about the route I've taken about drawing made it very heavy. My brain short-circuits at the AMOUNT of the details I keep in mind, yet I can't rest unless I got it "at least 90% correct", even when it is a darn shitpost ;-; I will figure out what went wrong compared with the way I used to draw humans..... someday.

Thank you for asking, though! Ha! Honorable mention: tons of shitposty comics and doodles I kept drawing in classes, both school and uni! x)

[patrophthia]

mini skirt | theodore nott

pairing: theodore nott x reader

wc: 3.5k

genre: smut (minors DNI), fluff, best friends to lovers, meddling blaise zabini just coz, they’re in love 🤢🤢, self indulgent im so sorry for the person i am

smut tags: dry humping, coming untouched, (very little) oral sex, come eating, unprotected sex (don’t do this!!), fingering, size kink, breeding kink, bulge kink, cream pie, so much dirty talk oml, big dick theo 😞, reader being shorter than theo, reader wearing a mini skirt, lots of cussing

summary: blaise zabini’s idea of how to play matchmaker might be different from the traditional way of doing it but at least you ended up getting dicked down, so you guess his method works too.

Blaise Zabini's idea of playing match maker is whispering to you —in a not so quiet way, that he'd heard 'Nott's got a big dick' and though you swatted him away. Face disgruntled, mumbling about how you did not want to know about your best friend's private parts. You're terrible enough of a person for your eyes to drop to his crotch when he sat down on the couch opposing yours.

There's a call of your name, once, twice. Before Theodore leaned forward, his voice loud enough for your eyes to tear itself from his thighs to his eyes. You gulped, hoping —hoping that he thought you'd blanked out and just happened to be staring at a very unfortunate spot. "Hmm?"

Theodore's held onto your gaze, lazying back onto his coach. "You okay? I asked if you wanted to head back up but you didn't answer."

"Head back up?" You repeated. "Head where?"

He eyes you suspiciously. "To your dorm?" Theodore gets up from his seat and leans down to crouch beneath you, staring up at you. "Or mine?"

You blink. Mind running in all kind of ideas —save for the ones you knew he meant when he asked you this question. You shift slightly in your side, scanning the Slytherin's common room as the party rage on; it's nothing too big, a get together between all seventh year supplied with alcohol —that Draco definitely did not buy just to impress the golden boy, not at all.

"I'm pretty sure I saw Draco take Harry up to your dorm, and neither of them look like they're exhibitionists." You say off handedly, looking down at him. "Besides, I'm actually enjoying myself here."

And to prove yourself, you get up from your seat; pulling your mini skirt low enough to cover your ass. Theodore, despite having every chance to peer underneath it, remains respectful as he plays with the hem of your skirt. "You are?"

"You aren't?" You ask back, trying not to squirm from the way his finger brushes against your thigh. Salazar this was your best friend for shit's sake, knowing that he could hypothetically have a big dick should not turn you on as much as it was.

Theodore shakes his head, slowly, almost as if he was in a haze as he quietly tells you. "Not really."

"Let's head up then," you tell him, and though both of your voices are low —barely even audible considering how loud Mattheo decided to play his music. Theodore was able to understand you perfectly, picking himself up as he used your waist as his guide. "Come on."

His pinkie finger catches onto yours as he gets onto his feet, him towering over you the slightest bit. And though, Theodore and you leaving a party early to turn in for the night was a sight your friends were used to by now —knowing that nothing ever did came out of leaving the two of you alone to your own devices. Something about how Theodore was looking at you makes them think that that might just change tonight.

But, they regress and bid the two of you goodnight with a few sporting playful frowns on how you never stay with them until the party actually ends.

You only smile, leading Theodore up the stairs to your dorm like every other night. Once in the comfort of your room, you sit yourself down on your bed, patting the spot for besides you for Theodore to take. He did as told, melting into your touch as you brush his hair back. "How much did you drink?"

His eyes are shut, face leaning into the palm of your hand as his own grips onto your skirt, tugging you closer to him. "Just those two shots we took when we first went down."

You hum, letting him pull you to him. "Did you smoke?" Theodore shakes his head slightly, before opening his eyes back up at you. You laugh lightly. "Then what's up with you tonight? I'm always the one dragging us back."

"Just tired, I guess." He murmurs.

"You guess?" You ask him, standing up —letting his hands fall where it'd been trailing up your skirt back to his lap, lingering slightly on what sits above it. "When are you ever not tired?"

Theodore laughs at your words, eyes crinkling as he did so. "When I watch you play quidditch," he says, pushing himself up to press his back against the head of your bed. Watching as you shuffle towards your wardrobe, picking out a pair of sweats along with two shirts he'd left at your room. "Or when you're drunk out of your mind and I'd to have to play pretend as your boyfriend and take care of you."

You snort at his words, picking out a pair of shorts for yourself. "You don't have to pretend to be my boyfriend to take care of me."

"Mhmm," he hums from his spot, lounging lazily as you walk up to his side, the change of clothes in hand. "But it's more affective that way." His hand finds its way to your hips, pulling you closer to him. "And I like it. I like pretending to be yours."

There's a split second where his eyes falters, looking at you almost nervously as he waits for you to respond. "You do?"

"Mhmm," he hums, pushing himself up to sit straight. "More than anything."

It's nauseating to see him look at you —eyes lacking their usual stoic and disinterest to instead be replaced by lust and adoration.

Without thinking twice, you leaned down meeting his lips halfway as your eyes flutters shut. And though seated, Theodore was still tall enough to kiss you back with ease. Letting you melt into the feeling of his soft lips moving slowly and desperately against yours.

"Fuck," Theodore mutters breathlessly, he pushes against your hand; dropping your (mostly his) clothes to the floor. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that."

"What?" You giggle, letting him pull you onto his lap. "Kiss me?"

"To kiss you again," He murmurs, attaching his lips back onto yours; a soft whimper slipping out of his lips when his clothed cock brushes against your core through his swift movements.

Fuck, Blaise was not lying.

In between your legs, underneath beige slacks, Theo's giant cock ruts up to you. You gasp into his mouth. "Ah—" you try to catch your breath. "—fuck, Theo. You've been wanting to kiss me since we were thirteen?"

"Mhmm," he hums, long slender hands gripping onto your waist before he slides one underneath your shirt and lays it flat against your tummy. His free hand, resting on your thigh, guiding you down onto him. "You're the only girl I ever want to kiss."

It's silly, you know it is —especially when his cock was pressing into your cunt, only separated by a thin layer of clothing— and yet you can't help but smile up at him, almost giggling when you ask him. " 's that why you asked me to be your first kiss?"

"Mhmm." He's smiling when he kisses you. "Can you blame me?" His tongue licks at your top lips, quick and gentle, trying to gauge on what you tasted like. "Prettiest girl at Hogswart and she was willing to be my first kiss."

His hand moves grips onto your waist, his touch blazing hot. "... Flatterer," you say, a playful pout prominent on your lips.

He chuckles, pressing his lips back onto yours, hand moving from your thigh to tug at your shirt. When you nod, Theodore pulls away just enough for him to take your shirt off and toss it Salazar knows where.

He doesn't even try to hide his staring, canting his hips upwards as he held you down. "Can you feel that?" He asks breathlessly, almost whining as he humps against you. "Can you feel how hard you make me?"

You could only moan, nodding dumbly as you rolled your hips. "Fuck—" he says against your lips, "—how'd you get even prettier, baby?"

And despite how hot —how nauseating it is to feel his boner pressing onto your wet cunt, you can't help but giggle at his words, at how turned on he got just at the sight of your tits. "It's just boobs."

"It's your boobs." He hand goes up behind you, making quick work at the clasps before kissing your chest, licking at your nipples; his hips not halting in its movement. "So so pretty."

His hand slips down, going underneath your skirt to knees at you thigh. "Shirt—" you roll onto him, breathless each time you feel just how hard he was. "—shirt, Theo."

Though incoherent, Theodore still understood you enough to pull his shirt off of himself before attaching his lips back onto you. His tongue glides against yours, swallowing your moans up when he bucks particularly hard.

It’s humiliating how the simple act of humping, combined with Theo’s hand playing with your tits, pinching and rolling your nipple between his long fingers with his tongue exploring your mouth has you writhing on top of him.

"Theo, ah—" you whine, hands gripping onto his shoulders to steady yourself, a familiar warmth building in your stomach. "— wait, fuck!"

Theodore's hips coming to a halt, as he watch you cum on top of him —in awe, without him even having touched you. "Did you just… ?"

You whine, pressing your face against his bare shoulder to hide just how embarrass you were. Theodore pulls you back, looking at you with what you could only assume was love. "Did you just come, baby?"

You nod bashfully, hands going to cover your face just for him to pin both of them down. "So cute, so so pretty." He kisses you roughly, rutting up to you. "Gonna fuck you nice and full, how’s that sound?"

Theodore only frowns when you nod, always having been the talkative one in your relationship. “Words, baby. That sound good to you?”

“Ah!” Your panties stick to your cunt uncomfortably, feeling all too messy when he grinds his cock onto you. “Good,” you whine, “ ‘s good.”

Theodore smiles, pressing a quick kiss onto your lips as a reward. His hand trails down to your thighs, flipping your skirt up before groaning at the sight of his beige slacks soiled by your slick and cum. "Look at the mess you made, didn’t even have to touch you.”

Sliding your panties to the side, Theodore runs two fingers down your slit. "Even your cunt's pretty," he murmurs, bringing his finger up to his mouth to licks at your juices. "You taste even better."

You're pouting as you watch him play with your pussy, fingers pressed onto your clit, going back in for another taste before you finally move down his crotch, just enough for you to palm at his cock.

"Fuck—" he whimpers, hips bucking onto your hand.

Feeling proud you pulled such a reaction out of him, you reach for his belt, lifting yourself up off of him as he helps rid himself of his slacks. Pulling back his boxers, you will yourself not to drool over the sight of his long and thick cock, milky from the precum leaking from its tip.

Your hand moves on its own, wrapping around the base of his hard cock only to find that your hand was too small to wrap all the way around him. "Why didn't you tell me your dick was huge?."

"You want me to —fuck—" Theodore whines, cock twitching in your hand as it begged for you to move. "You want me to tell my best friend about the size of my cock?"

"Yeah?" You move your hands up, thumb running along his tip. "Biggest dick I've ever seen."

"You never told me you had —fuck, baby— never told me you had a perfect cunt either." Theodore moans, the sight in front of him feels like it came straight out of a porno. His best friend and her small hands playing with his cock, tits out with only her tiny skirt stopping him from fucking her into the mattress.

You giggle softly before leaning down to take him inside your mouth. "Fuck!" Theodore choked out, hips roughly thrusting into your mouth. He's too big for you to fit in entirely in your throat and he knows it. And he's too close to cumming in your mouth to keep you were you are.

His hand pulling your head up and away from his cock swiftly. His eyes are shut, head leaning back against your headboard as he breathes heavily.

Your eyes are teary when he opens his eyes back up, and he wills himself not to think about how it's the result of him fucking your face. Theodore brings you up to sit between his legs, kissing you desperately, groaning when he tastes himself on your lips.

Your hand goes back to grab at his length and he whines, pressing his face into your neck and squirms underneath your touch. "Wait, fuck—" his hand goes to stop you, brain going dead as you pumped his cock. "—fuck, fuck wait."

Theodore moves away from your touch, pressing your hand down onto your mattress as he heaves heavily. "Shit— Next time," he whines, "we can do all that next time," he murmurs against your neck, pulling his head away to look at you, he adds: "but I need to fuck you. Please, just let me fuck you. I'll do anything to feel your cunt and fill you up nice and full, please baby."

And when he pleads for you so nicely, who were you to deny him anything? He kisses you again, laying you down on your back, whispering soft thank you’s as he presses open mouth kisses down your body. Slender hands roaming around as he tries to map you out. It's only when Theodore flips your skirt up, ripping away your panties to give himself a full view of your throbbing pussy did you realize what he's about to do.

"Hey, I liked those!"

"I'll buy you more, baby." You're dripping in front of him and he think he might be losing his mind. "Need to eat you out first."

"Thought you wanted to fuck me," you whine, gasping softly when he slides his fingers over your pussy, "why can you play with —fuck."

You pout at him, not expecting him to slide his finger inside you while you talked. "Why can you— ah! —play with me when I can't play with you."

"Not playing baby, just stretching you out," he tells you with a soft smile, leaning over to kiss your pout away. "Not gonna fit unless we stretch you out."

" 's fine," you whimper, feeling him slip another finger in, fucking into you slowly. "it'll fit just fine."

"You sure?" He picks up his pace, long fingers reaching places your own never could. "Don't wanna hurt you."

" 's fine," you moan when he slips a third finger into your cunt, "don't care if it hurts, just wanna feel you."

Theodore pulls out, bringing his fingers to his lips to taste you once more. Moving back up, Theodore grabs at a pillow, placing it beneath your lower back to elevate your cunt. Slowly, he guides his dick into you, gasping at the feeling of his thick head stretching you open.

"Fuck—" Theodore pushes in deeper, pausing when he feels you clenching impossibly tight around him "—your cunt's sucking me in so good."

The burn is delicious, his cock tearing you open from within, stretching you out to take him into you. "So full," you whine, pressing your head into your sheets as he slides in even deeper into you. " 's too much."

"I know, baby," he murmurs, rubbing slow circles onto your thighs, "just a little more, I know you can take it."

You whine pathetically, feeling him fuck the last few inches snuggly into you. "Ah!" He hasn't even moved and you're already breathless, feeling him in your stomach. “Fuck me, Theo. Fuck me nice and full.”

“You want me to fuck your small cunt nice and full?” Theodore pulls out entirely, leaving just his tip in your cunt before roughly thrusting back in, hands on your hips as he pounds into you. "I’ll fuck it nice and full for you, maybe even put a baby in you."

And when your pussy grips his cock at his words, Theodore drives into you even harder. “Put a baby in me, please.”

“Yeah? You want that?” He watches as your tits bounce with each harsh thrust. “You want to carry my baby? Have your pretty tits grow bigger? You want that?”

“Yes,” you cry out, eyes screwed shut, the pain of his cock splitting you open mixing with pleasure. “Yes, ah— want it.”

“Fuck—” Having just about enough, Theodore pushes your mini skirt up your stomach giving him a full view of how well he's fucking his thick cock into you. The mound of your pussy bulging as it makes room for his dick to spear into your cunt.

"See that baby? See how good your cunt’s at taking my cock?" He asks, his hand grabbing yours to press down below your navel. "See how good I'm fucking you?"

You can only moan, crying out his name when he presses your hand down onto the bulge in your stomach, pushing his own dick out of your pussy. "Feel how deep my cock is inside of you?"

“Gonna be so easy for me to breed you,” he murmurs, wrapping your legs around his waist to fuck himself even deeper into you. “Want me to breed you, baby? Hmm?”

You nod desperately, too cock drunk to speak. Jolting when Theodore presses a harsh finger to your clit, circling it as he fucked deeper into you. "Theo, I'm gonna—"

"I know baby," he says, his cock getting impossibly harder inside of you. He presses another finger onto your clit, rubbing tight circles as you squirm underneath him. "Fuck— you're pussy's so good. Need you to come on my cock."

Theodore leans down to kiss you, pushing his length even deeper into you. You moan into his mouth, fucking you through your orgasm, your legs trembling as you try to squeeze him in.

Theodore fucks your cum back into you harder and faster, chasing his own high. One quick glance at his cock coated with your cum, followed by the bulge in your tummy was sends has him rutting into your tight cunt, spilling his warm seed inside you.

Theodore thrusts a few more time just to savor the sight of you spread on his cock before finally pulling out of you. "Fuck Theo," you whined, his cum leaking out of you, making a mess all over your bedsheet. "Were you just never going to tell me your dick is huge?"

Theodore only smiles bashfully, pressing a kiss onto your forehead. "We're still on this?"

"You expect me to not be on this?" You say with a slight pout, Theodore only half paying attention to you as he grabbed a random shirt from the floor to wipe at you thighs. "It's almost like you don't even think of me as you best friend."

"Pretty sure best friends don't go around telling each other about how big their dick is, baby," he replies.

"Blaise can know about your dick size but I can't?" You murmur. "Talk about double standards."

Theodore pauses his movements, hand hovering over your spent pussy. "That fucker."

"Hmm?" You're curious now, confused as to why he was suddenly cursing out your friend. Never having been one to use curse words unless —well, unless he's fucking you.

"He told me that you liked guys who begged," he says with a slight front, going back to cleaning you up nonetheless.

"Is that why you begged to fuck me?"

"No, that was all me," he answers truthfully, ears tinging red in embarrassment,"just wanted to fuck you."

"And they say romance is dead," you say playfully before your eye zeroes into what's in Theodore's hand. "What about the whole breeding thing? And ‘s that my shirt?"

Theodore, freezes with his hands between your thighs, feeling you stare him down as he did so. Slowly, he unravels the shirt he'd use to wipe you clean only to realize that yes, that is your shirt.

"You ripped up my panties, messed up my skirt, tried to put a baby in me, and used my shirt to wipe up your cum," you say, frowning, "I'm never having sex with you again."

Theodore's quick to apologize, peppering your face with kisses, mumbling sorry over and over again. "I'll sneak you out of Oxford street, take my black card with you, how's that sound?"

— from bee: this is my first time writing smut be nice to me 😡

[thekitsunesiren]

Dc x Dp #42

Danny raising both de-aged Dan and Dani in Gotham and a small apartment. Everything seemed to be fine for the most part. Though he was tired of how many different jobs he had to keep taking because of all the rogues running around and trashing the place. He came home and complained everytime about the stupid rogues that was causing trouble. The latest was the Joker with his bombs blowing up the coffee shop he worked at.

He complained as he made his way into the kitchen to prepare dinner, missing the look that was shared between Dani and Dan.

Because while they were physically regressed to the ages of toddlers, their powers still stayed intact. Of course, the most Danny had to deal with was the two occasionally floated when they were sleepy or excited. Which he could handle. He didn't know how much the two were holding back in his presence to appear on their best behavior.

Which lead to Red Hood standing over said toddlers in the middle of the night. Dan holding a bloodied Joker by his hair. And by the faint trail of blood behind him, they were obviously dragging him somewhere.

Now, he's dealt with kids with superpowers before, but he didn't think he would have to deal with literal babies.

"So, what do you kids got there?" He asked, voice inquisitive yet static-like due to the voice modulator in his mask.

"We got a bad clown!" The girl chirped, blue eyes piercing with a proudness that no toddler should have about beating up someone. Though, he'll give it to her, he was a bad clown.

"And why do you have the bad clown?" He asked, ignoring the pained groan said clown let out that was muffled due to him being face down on the concrete. Hearing the sound, the young boy that had him lifted his head and slammed it down on the ground with a strength that startled Jason for a moment. His hand reflectively going for one of his pistols before settling.

Well, that answered the question of whether or not the kids did it themselves. Sparing a glance between two, he noticed the boy was a bit more roughed up

"He upset mama." The boy answered plainly, frowning as if upsetting his mother was the most unforgivable thing there was. Though, what kid didn't think that way? "He made mama job go boom!" She said, spreading her arms in an exaggerated manner to imitate an explosion.

Ah, Jason did remember Joker did blow up a few buildings the other day. He guessed their mother was working at one of them. Did that mean that she was a meta on the run, a civilian with two meta children, or some sick handler of child soldiers?

"Well, we better bring him to mama, shouldn't we? Bet she'd be really surprised to see what you two did." He offered, curious to see their reactions.

Both children suddenly looked up at him with matching blue eyes that sparkled with excitement. Probably because he wasn't going to stop them from what they were doing.

"Let's go see mama!" The young girl cheered, the boy giving a nod in affirmative before the two began walking down in a direction that was no doubt their home. The boys grip on the Joker's hair unfaltering as he continued to drag him through the pavement.

Jason followed the strange group, hands nestled in his pockets as he couldn't wait to see the reaction of their mother when the group returned home.

[timmydraker]

Tim had a jumper that doesn’t seem all that special, but to Alfred, Bruce and Dick is incredibly important. Dare they say vital to caring for Tim.

It’s a big wooly thing, once a pale mossy green but now with a hint of brown and white from fading and use. It’s too big for him to the point that the sleeves have to be bunched up when worn and even than they hang over his hands.

It looks like a dress on him, which isn’t help but his naturally slim build.

The jumper is held in such high regard because when Tim puts it on it means that he’s not feeling like he usually does.

His confidence, his snark, his wit, and his mental strength is either hard to reach or impossible.

Tim, in the only instance he actually talked about what was going on when he wasn’t wearing the jumper, said he felt both like a tiny little fish in a giant pond and like his skin was a sheet of paper.

Bruce talked to Dinah about it and said it was most likely a form of mental regression, but Tim refused for it to be called him being ‘little’ or anything that would remind him of being a kid again.

Because he doesn’t act like a kid, but maybe it’s not right to associate Tim Drake with a normal child behaviour pattern. He doesn’t babble or whine or want to watch kids shows like Dinah had suggest he might, but he does go non verbal or only say one or two words in response to pretty much anything.

He puts his jumper on and will just… sit there.

Tim is always moving or thinking, always doing, but when he gets in his ‘jumper state’ as Alfred calls it, he tends to slow down completely and just want to sit somewhere warm and feel the fluff of his carefully maintained jumper.

Sometimes, he seeks out warmth outside of heaters and fires and the sun.

It’s on one of those days when Tim stalks down to the Cave with his jumper on, hair messy over his head and hands held up to his chest in an almost shy manner.

Jason notices him first and simply raises an eyebrow in confusion while Damian scoffs, “What on earth are you wearing, Drake? That looks moldy-“

But Tim doesn’t even look at him, eyes on the floor as he goes over to Bruce at the computer and pokes the older man’s shoulder once before retracting his hand.

Bruce immediately turns and opens his arms, an almost heartbroken look on his face as he lets Tim drawl onto his lap and bury his face in the crook of his neck.

“I’ve got you. Anything in particular or just one of those days?”

Tim speaks in a voice like a husk that Damian and Jason only hear because they’ve come closer and sound travels in the cave, “Janet, birthday.”

Bruce Wayne, The Batman, The Caped Crusader, then fucking coos and kisses his head before rocking him slightly.

“That makes sense. Do you need someone here tonight? I can call Dick or stay myself if you need.”

The two other boys in the room look at each other, shocked to hear Bruce say he will give up a patrol to seemingly cuddle someone.

Tim shakes his head, “Alfred.”

Bruce nods, kissing his head again and saying, “Thank you for coming to me so I can help you. I’m so proud of you for not making yourself go through this alone again.”

It’s not exactly a whine that leaves Tim, but it’s not a word that is Bruce’s answer.

Jason comes forward and awkwardly scratches the back of his head, “I don’t really know what’s going on, but can I like… help or something?”

Bruce smiled as Tim nods against him after a few moments, the boy in his arms turning to reach a hand out for Jason and then strangely patting the hand Jason offers up for him.

Damian, not trying to be rude but needing to understand what is going on, clears his throat and demands, “Explain what is wrong with Drake.”

Luckily Bruce had gotten better at understanding how his son communicates and looks to Tim for permission before answering, “Sometimes Tim needs to… be free of responsibility and just feel like a person for a bit. He isn’t always up for talking and just wants to be around people he trust, and me, Dick and Alfred have managed to convince him to actually come to us when he needs that.”

Bruce smiles at where at where Tim is holding Jason’s hand and swinging it around a bit before feeling over the rough calluses and thick fingers with apparent joy.

Damian frowns a little at his father’s explanation but nods regardless, “Very well, we shall set up the family room for the evening before we head out for patrol.”

Bruce smiled and pulls Damian’s head over to kiss his hairline as he hears Jason mutter, “Weird little guy, aren’t ya?”

Tim hums and pinches his finger and smiling at his older brothers yelp.

[moonstruckme]

Hey so i have a request and you can totally say no if this makes you uncomfortable but would you consider writing a poly marauders x reader where the readers depressed and can’t get anything done im asking cause I’ve been. Going through something and i thought id be okay by now but I’ve kinda regressed idk and now im depressed idk pls don’t write this if its to hard or upsetting

Thank you for your request lovely, I really hope things are getting easier for you or that they do soon <3

cw: depression

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 981 words

You realize the boys must be home when Remus crouches in front of you. You hadn’t heard the car come up the driveway, nor the door opening. You were too deep inside your own head. Or maybe you’d drifted off into another of your light, unsatisfying sleeps. 

“Hi.” He offers you a little smile, putting out his hand. You worm yours out from under your blanket to give it to him, and he rubs his thumb across your knuckles fondly. “How was your day, lovely?” 

“Fine,” you say. Your voice rasps a bit from disuse. 

“I’m opening the curtains,” James warns from somewhere behind you. “Here, take these.” 

Sirius’ grunt sounds surprised. “Since when is carrying in the groceries a relay sport?” he complains. 

True to James’ word, light floods the living room a moment later. It illuminates Remus’ face in front of you, letting you see the gentle concern in his eyes. His gaze moves up above your head just before strong hands grasp you by the shoulders. 

“I missed you,” says James, hugging downwards at you until he gives up and lets his body flop over the back of the couch, “so much, today.” 

You pet down the hair at his nape, love like a bubble in your chest that’s always on the brink of popping. You love the way James hugs; it’s like he really is trying to feel as close to you as he can be, with his face bent towards your neck and one hand splayed behind your heart. You let yourself meld to him. Remus starts collecting your little mess from the coffee table, taking things into the kitchen.

“It was only a few hours,” you say. 

James makes a jokey harrumphing sound. “A few hours too many.” He lets you go to plant a smacking kiss on your cheek. “If you could have one thing for dinner tonight, what would it be?” 

“I thought we agreed to stop playing that game,” says Sirius, coming back in to sit down on the armrest of the couch. He sees where you’re toying with James’ hair and takes a lock between his own fingers. “You need a haircut, Jamie.” 

“You’re one to talk,” James quips, though he leans into the touch, always more than happy to have his hair played with. “And we only agreed to stop playing with you, because your expectations were too high.” 

“They were not.” 

“Why would you think we’d be able to get what we needed for escargot at our corner shop?” 

“If you didn’t want to know what I actually wanted, you shouldn’t have asked.” 

“Anyway,” James turns back to you, “what would you have, lovie?” 

“And before you say,” says Sirius, “the correct answer is tomato basil soup with a cheese toastie.”

James sulks, thwarted, and you stroke your thumb over his nape consolingly. “That sounds really lovely,” you say earnestly. “Was I really supposed to guess that on my own, though?” 

“You might’ve,” he mumbles. “Anyway, I was thinking you could be my soup stirrer. If you’re up for the task.” 

It’s an odd feeling, affection and guilt intertwined so well you can’t fully tell which is which. You know James is making a point of asking you so that you might come to the kitchen, be among them for a bit instead of staying off in your own world, do a task that makes you feel productive even if it’s small. You appreciate that he does it, and you loathe yourself for making him feel the need to. You wish your boyfriends wouldn’t coddle you not because you don’t like it but because you like it too much. You don’t deserve it. 

“Hey.” Sirius’ voice draws you back out from inside your head again. It’s become such a frequent haunt you don’t always realize you’re going anymore. He’s studying you. “You okay?” 

You hum as Remus comes back in, sitting on the now clean coffee table. “Thanks for doing that,” you murmur. His eyebrows lift slightly when he realizes you’re talking to him. “Sorry I left a mess.” 

Remus tsks, reaching forward to brush a piece of hair from your forehead. “It wasn’t really a mess,” he says. “I don’t mind. Are you going to help us with dinner?” 

“Yeah.” It’s not so much a decision as a yielding, but James beams like you’ve made his day. It makes you want to cry. 

Sirius wraps an arm around your waist as you go to the kitchen, squeezing the fat of your hip lovingly. “Think I’ll take up the duty of stirring the soup, too,” he says to you. “Seems like a two-person job.” 

“Probably, yeah.” You let yourself lean into his side. He takes your weight happily, mushing a kiss into your hair. “Sorry I’m so lame lately,” you tell him quietly. “You guys don’t need to coddle me so much.” 

“You’re not lame, who said that?” Sirius jostles you a little bit. When you don’t laugh, he changes his approach, leaning his head against yours. “We’re not coddling you, sweetheart. You’re just in a rut right now, yeah? And we’re meeting you where you’re at.” 

He makes it sound so simple, but your throat clogs with the true difficulty of it all. When you reply your voice is thick. “But I don’t know if I’ll be able to get out.” 

“You will,” he promises surely. “I don’t know how long it might take, but it’ll happen. And if whatever we’re doing isn’t working for you, we can figure something else out, okay? We’re with you.” 

When James says it’s your time to stir, Sirius insists on standing behind you and holding your hand that’s holding the spoon. Remus rolls his eyes at the idea of it being a two-person job, but you don’t know. You think maybe it takes all four of you to make it work.

[regressionschool]

Maturity Test Part 2

Chapter 1

Anna had been away for three years, throwing herself into work and life, the memories of her last visit to the regression school nursery and her friends there fading into the background. But now, it was time for her reclassification, and she found herself once again driving the familiar road back to the place where her friends had been left behind. She wondered how much had changed. How much had Rebecca and Olaf changed? How much had she changed?

Arriving at Olaf's place first, Anna hesitated before knocking on the door. She had kept in touch with Olaf and his girlfriend, Lilly, over the years, but hearing stories and actually seeing the changes were two very different things. Taking a deep breath, she knocked, the sound echoing loudly in her ears.

A moment later, the door opened, and there stood Lilly, a bright smile on her face. "Anna! It's so good to see you!" she greeted warmly, pulling Anna into a quick hug before stepping aside to let her in. "Olaf’s been looking forward to your visit."

Anna stepped inside, her eyes immediately drawn to the subtle yet significant changes in the apartment. The living room had transformed into what could only be described as a preschooler’s haven. Bright colors adorned the walls, and scattered toys filled the floor. A large playmat with a road map pattern lay in the center of the room, and in one corner stood a small table with coloring books and crayons.

But what really caught Anna's attention was the large potty chart on the wall, covered in stickers—mostly clouds with only a few suns scattered here and there. It was clear that Olaf’s potty training had regressed significantly. The sparse suns stood out like sad little beacons amidst a sea of rain clouds.

Lilly noticed where Anna’s gaze had fallen and chuckled softly. “He’s had a bit of a rough time with his potty training lately,” she explained, her tone both affectionate and slightly teasing. “But he’s doing his best, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

Anna turned to see Olaf emerging from the hallway. The sight of him was both shocking and heartbreaking. He was wearing a pair of blue pull-ups, the childish design visible beneath his t-shirt. His once-confident demeanor was now replaced with a more subdued, almost shy, expression as he shuffled over to greet Anna.

“Hi, Anna,” Olaf said softly, a pacifier hanging from a clip on his shirt. He didn’t seem to notice it as he absentmindedly popped it into his mouth after saying hello, sucking on it softly as he stood there, fidgeting slightly.

“Hi, Olaf,” Anna replied, trying to keep her voice light and not show how surprised she was at how much he had changed. She could see the subtle influence Lilly had over him—his behavior, his clothes, even his posture all screamed little boy. “It’s good to see you again.”

Olaf nodded, his cheeks flushing a little as he tugged on his t-shirt, which didn’t cover his pull-ups. “Yeah, it’s good to see you too. We’ve been having lots of fun, haven’t we, Mommy?” he added, looking up at Lilly with a small smile.

Lilly beamed, reaching down to ruffle his hair affectionately. “We sure have, sweetie” “I’ll go get us something to drink,” Lilly announced suddenly, giving Olaf a quick peck on the cheek before disappearing into the kitchen.

The moment she was out of earshot, Olaf’s demeanor changed. His shoulders slumped, and he let out a heavy sigh, pulling the pacifier from his mouth and dropping it onto the table with a soft clatter. He looked up at Anna with a mixture of shame and desperation in his eyes.

“Anna,” he began quietly, glancing over his shoulder to make sure Lilly wasn’t coming back yet. “I need to talk to you. I—Lilly—she signed me up for Unpotty Training III,” he whispered, his voice barely above a murmur.

Anna blinked in surprise. “Unpotty Training III? What’s that?” she asked, leaning in closer.

Olaf sighed, rubbing his face with his hands. “It’s not like the first two levels. Unpotty Training I and II were about getting you to have accidents, you know, just losing control sometimes. But this… this is different. It’s not about accidents anymore. It’s about not using the potty at all. They teach you how to… just let go whenever, wherever. No more control.”

Anna’s eyes widened as she processed his words. “And you’re the only one in the class who’s not… fully regressed?”

Olaf nodded, looking down at his pull-ups. “Yeah. It’s so embarrassing, Anna. All the other guys are in diapers, and here I am, still in pull-ups but being told I need to stop using the potty entirely. Lilly says it’s for my own good, that it’s part of accepting who I’m supposed to be, but… I don’t know. I want to grow back up, at least a little.”

“And that’s not all,” Olaf interrupted, his voice tense with frustration. “She signed me up for pacifier dependence too. I can’t go anywhere without it now. If I don’t have it... I just get so anxious, Anna. I don’t know what to do.”

Anna reached out, placing a comforting hand on his arm. “Olaf, why didn’t you tell her? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I tried,” he muttered, his eyes darting toward the kitchen again. “But she doesn’t listen. She thinks this is what’s best for me, but... I don’t want this. I want to grow back up, Anna. I don’t want to be stuck like this forever.”

Before he could finish, Lilly’s cheerful voice cut through the air as she returned, carrying a tray with two steaming cups of coffee and a sippy cup filled with juice. Olaf quickly popped the pacifier back into his mouth, his frustration hidden behind the plastic shield.

“Here we go!” Lilly said brightly, setting the tray down on the coffee table. “Two coffees for the grown-ups and a nice sippy cup of juice for my little man.”

Olaf forced a smile, taking the sippy cup in his hands. “Thanks, Mommy,” he mumbled, his previous frustration buried under a veneer of obedience.

Lilly beamed, clearly pleased with his response. “Oh, and Olaf, I don’t think we need to worry about you drinking from a cup anymore. Those days are long gone, aren’t they?”

Anna watched as Olaf’s grip tightened on the sippy cup, his knuckles turning white. He didn’t respond, just brought the cup to his lips and began to drink, his eyes focused intently on the table.

As they sipped their drinks, a faint hissing sound reached Anna’s ears. At first, she thought it might be coming from outside, but then she realized it was much closer—too close.

Olaf was wetting himself.

She glanced at his pull-ups, noticing the way the material was gradually swelling, the childish design fading as it absorbed the wetness. Olaf’s face remained calm, his eyes focused on the sippy cup in his hands as he continued to drink, completely unaware of what was happening. He looked so small, so helpless—more like a toddler than a preschooler.

Lilly, who was casually sipping her coffee, noticed Anna’s concerned expression and followed her gaze to Olaf’s pull-ups. A knowing smile spread across her face.

Lilly glanced at the clock on the wall, her eyes widening slightly as she realized the time. "Oh, look at the time," she said, her voice tinged with both excitement and a hint of urgency. "We need to get ready for the reclassification, Olaf."

Olaf looked up from his coloring, his brow furrowing in mild confusion. "Already?" he asked, sounding a bit unsure. The thought of the reclassification had clearly been on his mind, but he hadn’t expected it to come so soon.

Lilly nodded, giving him a reassuring smile. "Yes, sweetie. We don't want to be late. Why don't you get up and stretch your legs before we head out?"

Obediently, Olaf pushed himself up from the floor, his movements a bit clumsy as he shifted his weight. Then, with a soft sigh, she stepped closer to him, her hand reaching out to gently pat the front of his pull-up.

"Uh-oh, Olaf," Lilly said, her voice laced with gentle teasing as she placed her other hand on his padded bottom. "Looks like someone’s a bit soggy. Did you forget to tell Mommy you had an accident?"

Olaf's cheeks flushed a deep red as he looked down at himself, his eyes widening in embarrassment. "N-No..." he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper. He shifted uncomfortably, feeling the dampness of his pull-up now that it had been pointed out.

Anna couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for him as she watched the scene unfold. She could see how much it bothered him to be caught off guard like this. Lilly gently guided Olaf over to the corner of the room where his potty chart hung on the wall. “Come on, sweetie,” Lilly said softly, her tone warm but firm. “Let’s put another cloud on your chart, okay?”

Olaf’s face turned an even deeper shade of red as he nodded, clearly embarrassed by the ritual. He hesitated for a moment, but under Lilly’s gentle guidance, he picked up the blue marker and drew another cloud in the appropriate square. The marker squeaked slightly against the chart, a sound that seemed to echo in the room, making Olaf cringe a little.

“There we go,” Lilly said with a soft chuckle, ruffling Olaf’s hair affectionately. “Such a good boy.”

As Olaf stood there, looking up at the chart with a mixture of embarrassment and resignation, Lilly couldn’t resist adding a bit of teasing to the situation. “You know, Olaf,” she began, her voice playful, “if you keep this up, maybe this will be your last pull-up. If you get reclassified as a toddler today, we will switch to diapers full-time. Wouldn’t that be something?”

Olaf’s eyes widened in surprise and mild horror at the idea, but before he could protest, Anna, who had been quietly watching the interaction, decided to join in.

“Or,” Anna chimed in, trying to help Olaf smile, “maybe this will be your last pull-up because you’ll be allowed to grow up, Olaf. Maybe they’ll finally let you wear big boy underwear again.”

Olaf face showed a mix of confusion and hope, the idea of being allowed to grow up again clearly appealing to some part of him that still clung to his former sense of independence.

But before he could latch onto that hope, Lilly gently shot it down with a playful smirk. “Oh, Anna, you know Olaf’s too incontinent to ever go back to normal underwear. Even if they let him grow up, it’ll probably still be in pull-ups,” she said with a lighthearted laugh. “I mean, we wouldn’t want him having too many big boy accidents, would we?” Olaf shifted again, this time more awkwardly, caught between the two women’s contrasting views of his future.

Anna couldn’t help but smile at Lilly’s fierce defense of Olaf’s regression, though she knew better than to push the subject further. It was clear that Lilly had a vision for Olaf’s life that involved a lot more clouds on that chart, and perhaps even the inevitable transition to diapers full-time.

"Well," Anna said with a light shrug, "we’ll just have to see what the reclassification decides, won’t we?" She winked at Olaf, who gave her a small, uncertain smile in return.

Lilly gave Olaf’s hand a gentle squeeze. “Alright, let’s get you into a fresh pull-up before we head out, okay?” she said, her voice softening again. “We can’t have you going to your reclassification all soggy.”

Olaf nodded quietly, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly as Lilly guided him over to the changing area. She moved with practiced ease, quickly removing the damp pull-up and replacing it with a fresh one, giving Olaf a suppository for his nerves. The crinkling sound filled the room as she snugly fastened the sides, her hands gentle but efficient.

“There we go,” Lilly murmured, smoothing out the front of his pull-up before giving him another reassuring smile. “All set. Now, you’ll be nice and comfy for the big day.”

Once Olaf was dressed, the three of them made their way to the door.

[hminnj]

Unckuna/reader (he's very dear to my heart), mostly uncle nephew banter tbh, i needa get dividers lowkey, very short lil drabble

-

Sukuna thinks he's lost his mind.

He means it figuratively, obviously. But at this point he's sure he should've physically lost it already.

His nephew- of which he is currently babysitting- is currently on his couch, not a care in the world, half empty family sized bag of chips that was unopened not too long ago (fatface), kicking his feet like an adolescent boy in love, greasy fingers on the remote, and scrolling through youtube shorts on the tv???

Oh and worst of all he forgot to mention, the brat is wearing shoes.

The fact that he's even related to this thing makes him want to kill everyone else in the room and then himself.

"Itadori Yuji..." Sukuna seethes, it takes everything in him to not rip the brat's skeleton right out of his skin. He thinks it would be easy, if only a certain three people would let him (a shame, truly).

Yuji spares him a glance (the disrespect).

"Oh whats up unc"

"And what do you think you're doing?" The older of the two walks over and blocks the view of the tv, glaring down with his hands on his hips.

Yuji stares for a moment before opening his stupid food hole (as Sukuna describes it), "Have you ever seen that one meme, no one looks good from below? Well you're the version where they-"

Sukuna promptly picks him up by his foot, shaking him as a few chip bits fall off Yuji's shirt, "I literally just cleaned the house you freeloading fiend. Have you seen what a mess you've made?"

"You clean the house everyday you freak. Now put me down! I swear I was gonna clean up afterwards anyways." Yuji attempts to wiggle his way out of Sukuna's grip, he gets nowhere (predictably).

"Brat. You don't even know where the vacuum is, were you planning on picking them up one by one?"

"Ugh you're such a housewife, if I didn't know any better I'd assume you- MMM"

The sound of the code being put into the front door quickly stops Sukuna who shoves his free hand into Yuji's face, effectively shutting him up as well.

Sukuna grins when he sees you walk in, holding Yuji as if he were a first place catch for the annual bass fishing competition.

The sight makes you pause and contemplate your life decisions.

"Sukuna... put Yuji down, all the blood's rushing to his head."

Yuji is dropped immediately.

"OWWWWWWWW"

Your eyes trail around the living space and then back to the two children, "Does someone want to explain what's happening? And why there are shoe tracks in my house?" You make eye contact with your husband (who practically regresses 15 years in age when your nephew is around), he looks at you then uses his middle finger to point at Yuji.

Said boy, still recovering on the floor, whines, "Mann why can't I have a cool wine aunt and normal uncle?"

"Yuji if I were a wine aunt I wouldn't even be your aunt. Now are you gonna clean up this mess or should I make you?"

"On it! Whatever you say ma'am!" Yuji scrambles away after saluting and then pops back up from the hallway, realizing something crucial.

"Where are the cleaning supplies again?"

You sigh.

.

Yuji's finished with cleaning when he joins (intrudes, in Sukuna's words) you and his uncle on the couch, another episode of criminal minds running in the background.

You've changed from your work clothes into something more comfortable, snuggled into Sukuna's side as you start, "You know, if Spencer existed in real life I'd consider leaving you for him."

The tattooed man can only cringe in disgust at your behavior, "We're literally married, woman. You would leave me for that??"

He gives you and the tv an incredulous look. You can only giggle at his reaction, "You're like a child sometimes." His disapproval worsens, and you consider continuing to tease him but go with your better judgement (before he decides not to cook dinner, even though he always does anyways).

"I'm sorry hubby, forgive me?" Sukuna scoffs but accepts the affection anyways, he always does.

Yuji's voice interrupts the moment, "Ew you guys are so nasty (his parents are way worse), but speaking of children... when am I gonna get a cousin?"

The young boy can only watch as you two glance at each other then back at him, casually dropping an "Oh, Soon" then moving on completely. It takes him a second to process.

"WHAT."

-

unckuna my love

reblogs & comments are greatly appreciated :]

thank you for reading, have a blessed week

not fully proofread or edited

[quinnysnursery]

quinny may i request a little!matt with pots fic pretty please 😁

[🩹] salty kisses | matt sturniolo one-shot

paring : pots!little!matt sturniolo x fem!cg!reader

summary : collection of moments with pots!little!matt and his cg navigating his symptoms

warning/extra tid-bits : throw up in the first section!! to skip it just start reading at "Air Hunger" instead!! crying, i think that's all?

word count : 2,195

divider credit : umm i found all the photos on pinterest :3 (little leafy dot things (cg says it's peas) from @saradika-graphics)

a/n : guys guess who's helping me write this? if you guessed "quinnys cg, who has pots" you'd be correct (not proof read, i'm just a girl!)

Those with POTS may experience...nausea,

Matt groaned, the uneasy feeling in his stomach had been relentlessly getting worse for the past two hours. It didn’t help that he was deep in littlespace, which only made him more sensitive to the discomfort. What did help though, was you. His caregiver.

“I know baby, I know.” You comfort, wiping sweat from your little’s forehead. “Do you think you're gonna be sick?” You ask quietly, not wanting to scare the regressed boy. Matt hated puking or anything to do with throwing up for that matter, but if he did think he was gonna be sick- then you needed to be prepared. 

He shrugged, curling further into your side- frustrated with his current situation. He felt too nauseous to do anything.

“Mama’s gonna get you some ginger ale to help.” You decide, standing up and pressing a delicate kiss on Matt’s temple before excusing yourself to the kitchen. 

You swung the fridge door open, eyes darting around for the stash of mini Canada Dry cans that you made sure to keep on hand for situations just like this. Grabbing one, you crack the tab open on your way back to your little one.

You stop in your tracks- finding that Matt was no longer on the couch. “Matty?” You call out, placing the miniature can onto the coffee table with a soft “clink!”.

You felt your heart break as you heard the familiar sounds of Matt retching- his nausea had won. “Oh baby boy…” You coo, pushing the wooden bathroom door open and crouching next to the boy hunched over the toilet. Matt choked out a pained whine, tears running down his cheeks. 

“Shh, mama’s here. Just let it out.” You comfort, rubbing soothing circles into his back. 

When Matt’s stomach finished betraying him and he rinsed out his mouth, he leaned back into your chest- soft sniffles escaping the boy. You placed gentle kisses atop his head, assuring him that you were right there with him and weren’t going anywhere.

Those with POTS may experience...air hunger,

“Mama’s here, mama’s right here.” You comfort, holding onto Matt’s hand tightly- thumb rubbing the backside of his hand. Matt gasped out for air for what felt like the 100th time in the past twenty minutes, “I-Is’ not workin’!” The regressed boy cried out, panic obvious in his voice. 

“Hey, baby-” You push Matt’s hair away from his eyes, bringing his attention to you. “Big breath in with mama, ‘kay?” You readied him, he nodded- despite his panic, he trusted you. 

“In,” You took a deep breath in, Matt following. You pause for a moment, “Out.” You breathe out your nose. Matt followed, though you weren’t sure if it helped due to his shaky hands continuing. 

“Did that help? D’you wanna try again?” You offer, causing Matt to shake his head. “Hug.” He sniffled, still trying to fulfill his lungs' need for air. You wasted no time in wrapping your arms around the boy, placing your chin atop of his hair. 

You knew how scary this could be for Matt- especially since both he and his doctors hadn’t found a way to alleviate the symptom yet, other than to “wait it out”-  and it broke your heart that you couldn’t fix the situation. However, you could sit with him until it passed, which you were always happy to do.

Those with POTS may experience...brain fog.

Matt let out a low, frustrated whine as he slammed his index finger down on the left arrow-key of his laptop’s keyboard. He’d be rewinding this 22 minute episode of Gravity Falls for the past 40 minutes. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t seem to keep track of the episode’s storyline for the life of him.

“Everything okay, angel?” You ask him, looking away from your own work to focus your attention on your brunette boy. Matt shrugged, trying to find the words. 

This only made you shut your own laptop, scooting it away from you. “Are you feelin’ too little for Gravity Falls? D’you wanna watch something else?” You offer, lowering your head slightly to meet Matt’s eyes. Your heart broke as you realized they were filled with tears, “Oh baby…are you feelin’ bad?” 

That broke the dam. Matt was exhausted, his brain felt too heavy for his skull and he felt as if the world had a haze over it. Yet, he had no way to communicate that. Words were too much work.

“C’mon love, let’s take a nap.” You hum, standing up off the couch and offering him your hand. Only then did you realize Matt was in no position to walk up stairs, nor did you want to risk a fainting spell. 

“Couch nap?” You ask, Matt stared blankly at you for a few moments before nodding slowly- lowering himself to lay down on the couch. You snagged a throw blanket out of the blanket placed near the couch, laying it over your boy. “Get some rest, I love you.” You murmur, moving his hair away from his forehead and planting a kiss against his forehead.

Those with POTS may experience...dizziness,

The sound of giggling littles filled your living room as Chris and Matt played with action figures on the plush carpet. “Wooosh!” Chris giggled, sitting up on his knees and making iron man soar through the sky. Matt watched his younger brother (older, if you were referencing their current headspaces.) with excitement in his eyes. 

It occurred to Matt as he watched Chris move the action figure through the air that he wanted you to be a part of their imaginary game. You were currently in the kitchen with Nick, chatting over a cup of coffee…but you always said he was more than welcome to ask you to play!

“Mama ‘n Nick?” Matt asked, grabbing Chris’ attention. “You wan’ them to play ‘oo?” His brother asked, earning a confirming nod from his quieter brother. “Okay! C’mon!” Chris giggled, quickly bouncing to his feet and rushing towards the kitchen- before stalling for his brother. “C’moooon Matt!” Chris whined impatiently. 

Matt attempted to do the same as his brother- bouncing onto his feet in one swift motion. Sadly for him though, Matt’s body wasn’t programmed the same as Chris’ body was. 

He stumbled back on his feet, his brain scrambling into a staticy mess- making his vision go white for a split second as the floor swayed beneath him. 

Chris’ eyes widened at Matt’s uneasy posture. “Y/N! NICK!” He called out, instantly sending both caregivers out of their chairs and into the living room.

“What’s going on?!” Both caregivers called, Y/N’s eyes instantly looking towards Matt. “Oh honey,” The woman cooed, placing a gentle hand on Matt’s shoulder as he steadied himself- waiting for the room to stop spinning.

“Got up ‘oo quick.” Matt mumbled out, leaning into his caregiver’s touch. Y/N nodded, understanding.

Once Matt was able to stand up on his own, confidently, Chris sprung into apologies. “M’ sorry Matty…forgot ‘m gotta be gentler with you.” He mumbled sheepishly, earning a quick “...’s okay! Play still?” From his brother.

Chris nodded enthusiastically, looking towards Nick and Y/N with hopeful eyes. “Mama play?” Matt asked quietly. You wasted no time nodding, “Of course, baby.” 

Those with POTS may experience...blood pooling.

Both you and Matt were standing in the kitchen, waiting for dinner to be ready. “Do you want apple juice or fruit punch with your soup?” You ask as you open up the fridge, the cool air hitting you in the face as your eyes travel around to the drink options. You paused for a few moments, waiting for your little one to respond.

“Baby?” You call out, turning your head to see Matt staring down at his feet. Matt looked up, pointing down at his feet with his index finger. “Puw’ple.” He said softly, he was right- his feet were discolored to a light shade of purple. You couldn’t help but gently chuckle at the casualness of his tone, it truly was just another part of living with POTS for Matt.

“I’ll get your socks, can you sit on this stool for me?” You ask, turning off the burner of the stove and patting the countertop stool near you. Matt nodded, shuffling into his seat. You wasted no time rushing upstairs, grabbing a pair of compression socks from his dresser and one of his stuffed animals. 

“Fox!” Matt smiled excitedly at your choice of socks, “Yeah baby! Foxes!” You enthuse, helping him get the compression socks on. 

Those with POTS may experience...fainting.

You knew it was coming since Matt came downstairs this morning. Whether it was intuition or sheer-dumb-luck…you knew. 

That’s why you insisted on being a part of the video the triplets were filming later that night.

 “Can I come?” You asked, knowing you wouldn’t be taking no for an answer. “Umm, I can ask if we can change our reservation for a plus one.” Matt explained, pulling out his phone to ask his brothers. 

As you stared up at the neon sign that read “AMERICAN NINJA WARRIOR ADVENTURE PARK” you realized that this was possibly the worst video idea the triplets ever had- considering Matt’s disability.

Of course, you knew that Matt knew this but the ear to ear smile that he had plastered on throughout the entire drive to the adventure park, signing the waivers and while explaining to the camera what the three boys were going to be doing was enough for you to keep your concerns to yourself.

That was until the last obstacle course. The boys had decided to save the biggest one for last, and Matt decided to go last- which terrified you immediately seeing as Matt had already been complaining about feeling dizzy. 

“C’mon Matt!” Chris teased as his older brother clung onto one of the ropes of an obstacle. The three boys continued screaming out “encouraging” words as Matt’s legs shook on the unsteady surface- the changing of positions had to be triggering Matt’s dysautonomia. 

Matt accepted defeat and let go- falling onto the inflatable cushioning. “Matt!” Nick laughed, holding the vlogging camera. Matt sat up, using his elbows to prop himself up- his eyes immediately darting to yours. 

“Ma’...” He sniffled, a familiar feeling looming over him as his eyesight started to go. “Oh shit,” Chris cursed under his breath, signaling for Nick to put the camera down. You wasted no time rushing to your boy, crouching next to him.

“I’ve got’ya.” You comfort, reaching out for your little. Matt stood up on shaky feet- wanting to get off the course before fainting. “Are you okay to walk?” You asked, offering your arms out for Matt to balance against. 

Matt whined, his regression had come on so suddenly that he was even more disoriented than usual. “You alright, bud?” Nick asked, worried for his younger brother- he’d been Matt’s caregiver for years before you took over.

Matt’s head spun at the amount of concerned glances and worried looks he was getting and his heart was beating at a rate that hurt his chest. “C’mon baby,” You attempted to redirect, guiding Matt off the course.

The two of you made it about five steps before Matt’s feet felt too weak to continue, his eyes falling shut and his body falling forward. Your reflexes were lightening fast, grabbing onto Matt before he could hit the floor- thanking Chris for rushing to help you get Matt onto the ground safely. 

Nick rushed to get your purse, assuming you’d carry things to make Matt’s fainting spells easier. “Thank you Nick,” You smiled, putting your bag under Matt’s legs in an attempt to elevate them- a technique you learned whilst researching POTS.

When Matt finally came too, he whined at the bright lights- instantly shielding his eyes. The youngest triplet was the first to recognize, “Hey bud, you feel okay?” Chris’ voice was unusually gentle. 

Matt let out a low whimper, eyes searching for you. “Mama?” He asked, still disoriented from his fainting spell. You shushed him, resting your hand on his shoulder- not wanting him to sit up just yet.

“I’m here baby, Nick’s here too.” You smiled as Nick waved playfully at Matt- causing him to giggle breathly. 

After a few moments, Matt sat up. You instantly began digging around your purse, searching for a favorite salty snack you kept on you at all times- for cases just like this. You let out a cartoon-ish, “Aha!” as you pulled the small packet of goldfish crackers out your purse, handing them to your little. 

Matt smiled, head clearer than before as he began chowing down. “I’m gonna ask for a water bottle.” Nick declared, standing up to find an employee. Chris opted to go with him to give you two some space- not before you thanked him yet again.

“T’ank ‘ou mama.” Matt smiled at you, salt from the fish-shaped crackers on his lips. “Of course baby, we’ll grab dinner on the way home so don’t eat too many.” You informed him, though you didn’t have the heart to take the snack away from the regressed boy. Matt nodded, setting the bag of goldfish down on the ground next to him and leaning over to press a salty kiss onto your cheek.

taglist !! :

@natedoeswife @blahbel668 @nicksloverrr @flow3rsturns13 @pkfferoo @pixxiies @mattsturnswhore @17welch17 @pinksikhewei @v33angel @mattssturnz @littlestar44 @graceslittlecorner @zivall @hrtz4alex2211 @bimbob1tch @sturnsxplr-25 @cherry-red-heart @pr3ttyf4wn @frlinbruh @jazminepetit-homme @raynaaxx @tyummyz

[bleuside97]

Redemption and Regression

paring: babydaddy!jungkook x exgirlfriend!reader

summary: even after five years there is not escaping of jeon jungkook.

warnings: reader has a four year old child, reader gets kidnapped by jjk, manhandling, harsh words, profanities, a bit of angst,

genre: yandere jungkook

"Hi mommy." A little voice called through the phone call. You hold the phone close to your ear. Relief filled your senses by hearing your son's voice. Looking both ways before crossing the empty street. "Hello mommy's baby." You replied to your son, U-Jin Y/L/N, smiling ear to ear. "How are you liking it at Grandma's house?" You asked the small boy. "I love it here, Grandma has lots of toys for me to play with and she cooked samgyupsal for dinner." You couldn't see him but you can tell that joy evident in his voice. In the background of the phone call the sound of toys clashing together. Clearly, submerged in his fun toys he stopped taking.

Your four year old baby, frequently stays at his grandparents house on nights you have to work overtime. This whole week has been filled with late shifts at the office. You are employed as a journalist, a struggling one if that, you are writing your newest article that could be your breakthrough. A female voice cuts in, "Y/n." "Hello Mom, thank you for taking U-Jin in again, I've been so busy at the office." Walking home from work alone in the dark of the night. Thankfully you're almost at home. Just a few more blocks from it. You walk through the patches of yellow lights given by the street lights, within every kilometer. A gust of wind flies past you and bites your nose and cheeks turning a bright rose color. Your cling onto your light jacket a little tighter with your free hand. It was cold but your pursed nonetheless pulling the hood over your head. Pushing your hands deeper into your jacket's pocket for warmth. You continue to walk to your destination.

"I can't neglect my responsibility as a Grandmother," She dismisses your gratitude, always selfless. You're grateful to have her in your life, the only person you trust right now. You smile gratefully, admitting, "I can't do this alone." Tears well up, clouding your vision. "I'm a struggling single mom, trying to keep my job." A compassionate sigh emanates from the other end of the phone. "Don't give up, Y/n. You've come so far from those so many years ago." Her encouraging words bring a smile to your face. The smile fades as you recall your life before five years ago. Swiftly changing the subject, you attempt to forget about it. "I'll pick up U-Jin tomorrow, it's my day off. See you then, please kiss U-Jin goodnight for me."

You conclude the call quick to tuck it in your purse. A shadow of a figure in the distance. A rather tall figure, with long brunette hair blowing in the wind. He wore a loose-fitting hoodie and baggy jeans. He walks, his gaze locked on the sidewalk ahead, his face obscured by a cap that renders him faceless in the dim light. In the midst of the crowded sidewalk, your shoulders accidentally collide. You're quick to offer an apology, but as you do, the faceless figure slowly turns to face you, and in that instant, you imprint a name on his featureless visage. A surge of instinctive fear jolts through your mind, urging your body into action. Your legs propel you into motion before rational thought can catch up.

In the darkness behind you, an iron grip suddenly clamps onto your arms, imprisoning them against your trembling frame. You instinctively struggle, desperately attempting to wriggle free from his unyielding hold, but he remains an immovable force. As fear courses through your veins, you open your mouth to scream, only to be violently yanked backward, stealing the very breath from your lungs and reducing your scream to a feeble gasp.

His fingers constrict around your waist and throat, the world narrowing to the thunderous pounding of your heart in your ears and the veins throbbing visibly in your throat. Panic surges within you, tears welling up in your eyes. Amidst the chaotic moment, your vision is reduced to a blur of blinding car headlights, the whizzing of the street, and a fraction of a car door frame as you're forcibly thrust into the passenger-side seat. Desperation fuels your efforts as you claw your nails against his arm, a frantic struggle to break free.

Having cornered you within the confines of the vehicle, your assailant steps back, allowing you a fleeting glimpse. Through your disheveled hair, the darkness, and the tears clouding your vision, you discern little more than the silhouette of a man. His head abruptly swivels in your direction, his hand lunging forward, and a noxious cloth slaps onto your face.

In your frantic struggle with all your might, you toss your head back, a desperate bid to evade him, your instincts screaming about the consequences of failure. You were forcibly shoved into the car, an unsettling sense of déjà vu washed over you, and you could have sworn that your faceless assailant wore a hauntingly familiar, triumphant grin. A haunting warning chills your soul, "I warned you, y/n, from the moment you left me, I told you I will always find you." The world dissolves into darkness as he steps back, sealing your fate with a resounding slam of the car door. Rendering you unconscious.

(Transition)

A cold shiver danced down your spine, and the chill of damp concrete beneath your scent a jolt of discomfort through her frail frame. Panic began to claw at the edges of your consciousness as her memory reluctantly unveiled the grim truth: she was trapped, imprisoned by the very person she had once called her own.

As her senses gradually sharpened, she became aware of the stale, musty air, tinged with the scent of old wood and mildew. The sound of distant water dripping echoed ominously, punctuating the silence that enveloped her. Her hands, trembling as she explored her immediate surroundings, brushed against rough walls and the coarse surface of a cot, revealing the stark minimalism of her prison. With every fleeting moment, the dreadful awareness of her predicament grew more poignant. Memories of their tumultuous history resurfaced, casting shadows on her thoughts, and the realization dawned that she was now at the mercy of her former captor. Tears welled up in her eyes as she grappled with the agonizing helplessness of her situation.

Amidst the dimly lit basement's gloom, your eyes gradually adjusted to the obscurity, revealing the harsh reality of her situation. As her disoriented senses sharpened, she could make out a silhouette lurking in the shadows. Her heart raced, and a tremor coursed through her frail form as the figure gradually materialized before her.

a/n: it's been a minute bro ik i said that i was going to post like five days a week naaa that was a lie. it's not that easy im currently in school and im tired and doing work all the time. im exhausted but ima try to post once a week. i will try. anyways, im still on my yandere shit and i have way more coming up. i really this one and i think it's a cool story. please let me know your feedback please this is only the first part of the story and i don't want this to flop 😭 please don't make it flop I beg! i really worked hard on it it took me days to do!! there's gonna be two more chapters and smut would be included in the next chapter so...

[angelbaby-fics]

Daddy stucky x little reader x little Peter where the reader is in a very young headspace and took a nap but when she woke up she was all alone in the bed and want to be with her daddies and Peter so she try to crawl off the bed but fell and hurt herself and daddy rushed in the room seeing little one crying and after he ask why she crawl off the bed she's like "I wan be wif daddies n pweti"

MUCH COMFORT PLEASE 🥺💞

Comfort

Word Count: 800

A/N: Ahh what a precious idea!! I really really love the big brother Peter dynamic hehe 💕 also this fic is so me bc every time I wake up my first thoughts before I get my bearings are usually "wheres dadaaaa" 💕 enjoy!

It was typical for you to regress even smaller during the course of your afternoon nap, usually leading to a wonderfully cozy evening. After a day of playing, Bucky would put you down in your crib with the lights dimmed to replenish your energy while Steve cooked the family meal. Peter was always a bit older than you, so his afternoon nap was optional. Today he opted to help out Daddy in the kitchen while you slept.

Bucky returned from your nursery to see his two best boys working hard in the kitchen. Peter was dutifully stirring a big bowl of ingredients while Steve carefully cut vegetables and dropped them into the mix. Bucky made absolutely sure they didn’t need any extra help before he retreated to the living room to put on a record. Soft jazz music filled the house, and Bucky picked a book to pass the time before supper was ready. Settling into a soft armchair, one where the kitchen was still within view, he started to lose himself in the peaceful moment, the ambiance only interrupted with the turning of each page.

Until he heard the thud.

You weren’t sure how long you’d been asleep. You weren’t sure what was dream and what was real. You were stuck in a prison cell, your family on the other side. You reached out for them, desperate arms restrained by the bars. When you opened your eyes, the bars were real. 

You caught your breath slowly as you took in your surroundings. It was just a dream. You told yourself that over and over again like a meditation, but it didn’t make it any more believable to your babified brain. You had to see for yourself that your family was still there. You needed to feel your Baba’s strong arms hold you against his chest, to hear Daddy’s soft voice humming a lullaby as he played with your hair, to stretch out your hand and immediately have it met with Peter’s, reassuring you that your big sibby was always there. 

But you were so, so tiny. You could hardly balance on two legs, gripping tight to the railing of your crib as you tried to hold yourself up. Falling back onto your hands and knees, you gathered up all your stuffies and piled them all into one corner, forming a makeshift ramp. Scurrying up like a squirrel on a tree trunk, you pulled yourself over the top rail, but you hadn’t planned this far ahead. You fell to the carpeted floor, right on your padded bottom. 

Bucky was pushing through the doorway before you even had time to cry. He picked you up and held you tight against him, softly bouncing you up and down as he patted your back.

“I’ve got you, baby, I’ve got you.” He whispered with his rumbly voice. “Shhh…”

You grabbed him tightly, his clutch pulling you back from the verge of tears. You took fistfuls of his soft t-shirt in your hands, the fabric more comforting to you than any blankie. 

“What got you all worked up huh? Bad dream?” Without moving much, you nodded into his chest. You didn’t have the energy to tell him about it, but as usual you didn’t need to. Bucky had a way of reading your little mind. 

“How about we go cuddle out in the living room, okay babydoll?” “‘N daddy ‘n Petie?” You mumbled in your little baby way that your Baba could always understand. 

You could hear their voices as Bucky carried you out of your nursery and into the main foyer. 

“Is that my baby?” Peter asked. 

The excitement evident in his voice at the thought of getting to see his best playmate again. It had only been a little more than an hour that you’d been asleep, but he loved you that much. Your head perked up at that, and your bleary eyes blinked to see Steve carrying Peter out of the kitchen, mirroring you and Bucky as you met at the living room couch. 

“There’s still a few minutes on the timer for dinner.” Steve said. “Does anybody know what we could possibly do to pass the time?” 

“Cuddles please please please!!” Peter cheered, and you clapped in agreement.

“What a great idea! What smart babies we have, don’t we Buck?”

“I think we might have the smartest, cutest babies in the whole wide world!”

Each man sat on the couch with their respective babies in their arms, but as soon as they were seated, you and Peter started crawling all over each of them, lapping up as much love as you could before the oven timer went off. Even when it did, you weren’t too disappointed; you knew once supper was over you’d be right back to cuddling your family again.

[purrrtasticsnake]

Jake

Imagine: Jake as your sub:

Pairing: sub!Jake x femdom!reader

Warning: slight smut, BDSM themes, petplay

(This is a repost, since it got removed from Wattpad. But I changed a few things because my writing style was a little too cringy, even for me).

~•~•~•~

• Puppyplay: The other members definitely already picked up on the fact that your relationship with Jake isn't usual, but he's not that ashamed about it. 

The feeling of being your pet is his biggest joy. Sometimes all he wants to do is go non-verbal and regress to a simple and playful headspace.

When he's not able to wear a collar in public, he'll wear a short neckless (or he'll secretly wear a collar under his clothes) to symbolize his relationship with you. The only time he's not wearing anything around his neck is when he's showering. 

Now, there's one thing that makes a collar even better for him: when there's a leash attached to it. Off course, you'll use it during intimate moments, but it also comes in to play when he has to wait for you. 

Before a session, you'll take a shower and tie his leash to the bathroom door. If he's been a good boy the whole, you open the door a little, so he got a nice view.

One of his biggest treats is when you take him to the forest (with barely any people) and walk him on a leash there. Most of the time he'll stand up, but it's still a really nice feeling for him (especially if you pull him a little bit roughly). And when there's someone in sight, you quickly hide the leash, so it stays a secret between the two of you.

• high protocol: Jake is a little different from most people, he thrives with rules. His day is filled with different types of rituals and habits he has to live by. 

For example; when you're with him, he's not supposed to open doors or load up his plate. You are the one who does that for him, because he's just a poor puppy.

But that doesn't mean he's lazy. You make him a to-do list for every week, and he'll make it a challenge to do everything as good as possible.

Some to-dos are chores, while others are about self-care. 

• Positive reinforcement: Being called a good boy isn't enough for him, he wants you to fully acknowledge it. While he despises punishments, he's obsessed with rewards, treats, words of affirmation, etc.

That's also why he enjoys position training a lot, because he knows you're going to praise him a lot when he does everything correctly. 

He's such a sucker for praise that during the most random moments he'll suddenly try to eat you out. He'll start off by innocently laying his head in your lap and then slowly rubbing his head against your private area. 

From there on, you'll either give into his seduction, or you'll discipline him lightheartedly.

The funny thing is that you also found out that he likes degradation and humiliation once in a while. It's his guilty pleasure, and he'll try to ignore how much it turns him on, but that act doesn't last very long. 

It all started when he was humping your leg, and you jokingly called him a dumb puppy. And all he could do was whimper, 'again...please say it again'. Obviously, you experimented further with this realization.

☆ Choosing Game: ☆

(● = his choice/preference)

1)

● rewards

○ punishments/funishments

2) 

● getting spoiled by Domme

● servicing his Domme

(He needs both)

3)

● petplay

○ ageplay

(It's basically his lifestyle)

4) 

● obedient

○ brat

5)

● praise

○ degradation

6)

● bondage

○ impact play 

7)

● exhibitionist 

○ voyeur

(He loves being naked while you are fully dressed)

8)

○ low protocol 

● high protocol

[marvelfanfics1]

 could you write a fic where Peter or Loki are caregivers and they have littles that no one knows about and they have some relation to the team and are at the tower one day not knowing their caregiver was going to be there the team doesn’t know they’re a little or that Peter or Loki are caregivers? Plz and Thx

Not So Secret Anymore

Pairing: daddy!peter x little!romanoff!reader

Warnings: age regression, reader has social anxiety (just projecting here), sorry for any spelling mistakes!

⋆ ˚��⋆୨୧˚ ♡ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

You and Peter had been texting each other for a while now, getting close quickly by the fact that you both were in the agere community.

The way you found each other was just because you had messaged him over tumblr, telling him how comforting his blog was for you whenever you were in littlespace and now he was your caregiver over screen.

You haven't met each other yet but face timed a lot, still getting comfortable with each other. Peter never presses you into meeting him, knowing how hard it is for you given your social anxiety, so he'll wait until you feel up to it.

It's funny how you both share something so deep yet never have you told him you're Natasha Romanoff's adopted daughter and Peter never told you he is spider-man for obvious reasons.

It seems the universe had other plans for you both though.

You have just gotten back from Starbucks, getting something for your mom and yourself. Today was a rather anxious day for you because you will be becoming kind of a part of the avengers. You won't be participating on the missions, more stay at the compound to plan said missions and monitor them safely far away, helping over comms.

After the security let you in you instantly bee-lined for your mom's office, knocking on the door before entering, seeing her seated at her desk. She smiles when you enter the room, pushing the stack of papers to the side and waves you over.

You walk over to hand her the cup of hot coffee, chuckling at her groan of relief.

"You're my savior." She hums, taking a sip and notices you tapping your finger repeatedly against your own cup of cocoa. "You nervous?"

"Is it so obvious?" You ask and she mocks your tapping a bit more aggressively and you shake your head laughing. "Yeah, ok, you got me. I'm just scared to mess up..."

"I get it, really. But making mistakes is normal, it makes you do better for the next time. Just go with your gut feeling and you'll see what happens. Besides the others have a lot of experience and know when to listen to instructions." She assures you, getting up from her seat to stand right in front of you, placing her free hand on your shoulder to give it a gentle squeeze. "You'll do amazing, I just know it."

"Thank you, mom." You smile at her.

"Alright, then let's go. It's time to make official to the others." She says making her way towards the door, waiting for you to follow.

Swallowing the lump in your throat you follow after her, walking out of her office and towards the meeting room where everyone else was already waiting for you both.

As you stand before the door you hesitate, taking a few deep breaths. You just couldn't help being nervous, standing in front of people even if most of them basically watched you grow up by Natasha's care was still scarring you.

"You ready, sweetheart?" Natasha asks, making sure you really want to do this.

Taking a deep breath you nod with a small smile, your grip tightening a little on your cup as the door slides open.

Everyone in the room stops talking and turns to face you both. Your attention instantly fell on the slightly curled brown haired boy who's back was still facing you. When he did turn around your eyes widen, instantly recognizing the boy as your caregiver.

His eyes widen as well, neither of them saying anything. To your relief Natasha starts talking.

"So, most of you already know my daughter..." As she did the introduction for you your eyes never left Peter's, subtly shaking your head for him not to say anything about you both already knowing each other.

He presses his lips to a thin line, his gaze already telling you 'we'll talk about this later'.

After you and your position got discussed everyone left to do their own thing. You speed walk to your room, feeling someone following after you with a few feet distance.

You walk into your room without closing the door, standing in the middle of it. Peter quietly snuck into your room as well, looking out the hallway if anyone saw him before quickly shutting and locking your door.

You spun around as he approaches you. "What are you doing here?"

"What are you doing here?" He stresses but before you could answer him he pulls you into a hug. This is the first time you ever meet each other in person and a feeling of comfort and happiness rushes through you.

He pulls away, cradling your face in his hands.

"I-I live here. You already know by now who my mom is a-and today is supposed to be my first day working with or for the avengers." You explain, trying to stay big as the urge to slip came the second you saw his face since you normally regress when you're face timing.

"Hell, you could tell me anything and everything about your littlespace but that you're Black Widow's daughter never seemed interesting enough?" He laughs, squeezing your arms a little form excitement.

You shrug, giggling. "And you never found it interesting to tell me you are a part of the team?" Suddenly you realize something.

You know everyone on the team, except for the mysterious newcomer with the red mask you have only seen on tv or the news paper.

"You- You're spiderman?!" You squeal and Peter put a hand over your mouth.

"Shh, don't want anyone knowing I'm in here right, little one?" You practically melt in his hold when he uses the pet name you love so much. He retracts his hand, smiling at you. "You're even cuter in person."

You quickly wrap your arms around his neck, burying your face in it. Peter immediately wraps his around you to pull you closer, enjoying to finally have you in his arms after months of texts, calls and promises of cuddles. He only let go when you pull away, grinning at him.

"I would have made our first meet more special just so you know." He declares and you shake your head.

"Is alweady special enough..." You whisper, tears building up in your eyes.

He frowns at your tears, wiping away the ones that slip. "You don't have to cry. Daddy's here now..."

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ♡ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

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[linkspooky]

GREAT TEACHER, GOJO

For my final commentary on chapter 236, I thought I'd talk about this panel the starter of a million flame wars on twitter dot com. The big controversy is Nanami stating that Gojo fought only for himself without mentioning his students which a lot of people thought was a last minute reversal on Gojo's character, or character regression.

I'm not going to call anyone stupid, or say if you have good teacher Gojo headcanons you're wrong. However, I'd like to point out that Gojo's always been more complicated than most shonen mentors. He's not Kakashi, and he's not Aizawa, and I'd argue the fact that he's not the standard "I'd die to protect my students" mentor we see in shonen manga is what makes him interesting.

The Springtime of Youth

Jujutsu Kaisen is a shonen jump manga that is very aware of the other manga that are running in the same magazine and uses that awareness to play with audience expectations.

To put it simply if you don't want to use words like Deconstruction - if you're reading Jujutsu Kaisen then things are probably not going to go the way you expect them. It's not Naruto, it's not My Hero Academia, it's a little bit like Bleach except characters actually die.

If you expect things to go one way in Jujutsu Kaisen, then you're going to be thrown a curveball. To name some examples briefly before diving into Gojo.

Yuji Itadori is a normal boy protagonist suddenly dragged into the world of the supernatural.

However, everything goes wrong from there. Jujutsu Sorcerers are not heroes. Yuji is told that much from the beginning by Megumi within the first thirteen chapters. The world of Jujutsu Sorcery is not a good place to be, Yuji is initially excited to be a sorcerer and to be a part of this world and then learns that lesson fast. I mean, imagine if Deku was accepted to UA, and then he immediately learned that students at the school die on the regular and all the adults are either terrible selfish people, or if they're not they die too like Nanami because being selfless means sticking your neck out for someone else.

Yuji's not really special in the narrative. He's just a kid who swallowed a finger. He doesn't have a secret technique. We're hundreds of chapters in and he's still just punching people. If he's cornered in a fight he doesn't unlock a secret technique either, he just loses.

Yuji has a superpowered evil side, like the nine tailed fox, or Hollow Ichigo except it's not really his super powered evil side. It's an evil parasite attached to his soul with a will of its ownt hat will manipualte him. Hollow Ichigo and the Kyuubi can escape temporarily and there's usually no consequence. Sukuna escapes twice, the first time he nearly kills Megumi, the second time he kills thousands.

Yuji is kind of like a main character who is not a main character.

If you still believe he's the main character, then you can agree he's punished for thinking he's the main character and therefore things are going to be easy, because nothing is ever easy in Jujutsu Kaisen.

Megumi is a riff on the chosen one. He's supposed to be the Gojo Satoru of his generation, born with the strongest technique that ca even surpass the limitless and he's nowhere near the level he's supposed to be. This is because Megumi has been continually failed by every adult figure all his life, starting with his father who sold him, then Gojo the man who SAVED* him techically but with a big asterisk that he needed to become his student and do jobs for Jujutsu High School otherwise Gojo would just let the Zen'in take him or let them starve I guess. Megumi has no adult figures to rely on, and has been given very little freedom about who or what he wants to be in his life, and therefore he's a very passive, repressed individual who's riddled with insecurities. Megumi doesn't want to be the strongest like Gojo, or like many hero / rival characters in shonen manga. Megumi doesn't even know what he wants to be, because he's never been given any choice in life.

If you don't think Megumi's a deconstruction of any sort of character type, look at those posts on twitter that are like "Look at the black haired depressed shonen boys" and then look at Megumi, he's never actually like any of these boys because he's much deeper and probably closer to being the main character than Yuji is.

Then we get to Gojo who is very unlike all the other mentors in shonen manga.

If Yuji and Megumi are both riffs on a main character, a hero in a world so cynical he's not allowed to play hero and actively punished for it, and a chosen one who doesn't want to be the chosen one then you have Gojo as the mentor who's nothing like the classic mentor.

The problem with mentor characters in fiction is that number one they die a lot (spoiler warning Obi Wan Kenobi dies in Star Wars just so you know) and number two they're not usually the most complex character in the cast.

What is the mentor there for?

To Mentor (duh.)

What this means is they are usually a fully formed adult who can teach a lesson to the main character, who in shonen manga is typically a teenager.

I say they're usually less interesting because stories are about characters changing, or characters learning lessons. A teacher presumably already has learned his lesson. They are usually at the end of their journey and not the beginning, that's why they can offer wisdom to the main characters. They're not usually their own separate characters because of this - a narrative doesn't have time to waste on a character that's not going to change.

Jung had a term for this character, it's called the Wise Old Man.

In Jungian analytical psychology, senex is the specific term used in association with this archetype. Examples of the senex archetype in a positive form include the wise old man or wizard. In the individuation process, the archetype of the Wise old man was late to emerge, and seen as an indication of the Self. 'If an individual has wrestled seriously enough and long enough with the anima (or animus) problem...the unconscious again changes its dominant character and appears in a new symbolic form...as a masculine initiator and guardian, a wise old man, a spirit of nature, and so forth'.

The role of the wise man archetype is to help other people along with their ego development, because usually they are already fully developed individuals.

Obi Wan is the most typical of typical mentors, and he dies in Star Wars because after he finishes teaching Luke he has nothing to do. This is Luke's Hero's Journey. Obi Wan's already happened offscreen, he's at the end of his journey there's no room for change or growth in him because his story purpose is to exist to advise Luke and to do that he needs to be a fully grown adult figure.

The subversion to this when the mentor has their own agenda (Gandalf), or the mentor is as flawed as the main characters themselves and so therefore he has something to learn.

Gojo is kind of a combination of both, like Gandalf he is the mysterious but seemingly all powerful wizard (er... or rather sorcerer) with his own agenda, and he's also practically the fourth member of the main cast who are otherwise all teenagers. In fact, Gojo spells out his agenda in the same panels that everyone uses to constantly assert that Gojo is a good teacher who only wants to protect his students.

He wants to make the Jujutsu World a better place (good) which is why he is raising students so he can turn them into his political allies to make a regime change (hidden agenda).

It's a means justifies the end type scenario. In Gojo's mind the means (raising kids as tools in support of his political agenda) justifies the ends (a better jujutsu world for those children). His motivation is still the same. This is what I think people most often get confused about with Gojo's character. I think he is one hundred percent genuine about wanting a better world.

"I have a dream, I want to reset this crappy Jujutsu World" is his motivation, but not his means. He uses his students as a means to achieve that end. Even if it's purportedly for their sake, he's still using them. I don't even think this is subtext it's text, both Megumi and Yuji call themselves cogs.

"But senpai, what's your function...?"

You could say in this case that the ends don't justify the means. Is Gojo really protecting these kid's youth, if Yuji and Megumi are going around calling themselves cog and acting like they don't matter in the grand scheme of things? In fact the narrative is inviting you to question if Gojo's ends justify his means.

Gojo's ideals can be one hundred percent real, but he can also pick faulty ways of choosing those ideals that fail to live up to them. In fact most people fall short of ideals, that's why they're called ideals. Gojo is taking these kids in because they have strong potential as sorcerers and he wants to recruit them, that's his hidden agenda. It's confirmed in databooks in Yuji and Yuta's case, and even if you don't trust databooks as canon then look at how he treats Megumi.

Megumi is explicitly Gojo's student, not his son. He only intervened in Megumi's situation on the caveat that Megumi work for him. Presumably, if Megumi didn't want to be a sorcerer and just wanted to be a normal kid, Gojo would have either let the Zen'in have him or do nothing. The option of just calling child services and getting someone to foster Megumi until he was older didn't even seem to cross Gojo's mind. There's the help he gives (Food money, rent, protection from the Zen'in) and then the hidden agenda (Don't work for the Zen'in who are my political rivals, you're my student now).

Yet at the same time Gojo is shown going to find Megumi after Geto's defection, probably because of the words he said to Yaga "You can only save those who want to be saved," when he realized it was too late for Geto. Was he intervening earlier for Megumi because he learned from being too late with Geto? Did he think Megumi needed guidance, or did he think Megumi needed protection in his youth so the Jujutsu World wouldn't corrupt him like it did Geto, or did he think he just needed to make it so Megumi was strong so he wouldn't fall behind him because Geto fell so far behind him once Gojo became the strongest. There's ambiguity there, because the hidden agenda is you know... Hidden. That's what I mean with Gojo though, you can look at him from multiple angles, he's not just (I love my students I'd die for them) because that character would only have one purpose in the narrative and that'd be being the perfect mentor who teaches them all the right lessons.

Gojo's not like other mentors, and in fact he's a commentary on the mentors that everyone is always comparing him to and expecting him to be like.

Literally everyone who reads Naruto has the exact same response, "I hate how the manga never talks about how it's a bad thing to send these child soldiers into war, and nobody breaks the cycle."

There are a lot of people unhappy about the same thing in My Hero Academia, "Why does nobody talk about how wrong it is that the adults make these high school students fight on the battlefield."

Well there you go. That's Gojo. His dream is to make it so Jujutsu Society is a place where teenagers can survive until adulthood. His method of doing so is to... raise those teenagers to be stronger than the previous generation, but you know still letting them be child soldiers on the battlefield just stronger ones. He does this because if he's working within the system the his two choices are raise a group of people who can age out and replace the old regime, or just kill everyone at the top.

Everyone complains about how no one talks about the child soldiers in Naruto or My Hero Academia, but here you go, we have a manga that is centered around how messed up it is to send high school students to continually fight these curses before they even turn eighteen. Gojo's sending these kids out there still even if he wants to change things, and it's supposed to be a little messed up and also a contradiction to what his ideals are supposed to be.

Because in My Hero Academia you have characters like Aizawa and Kakashi who are "I will die for my students" but then they just send those teens out to fight in a war, and seem totally fine with that. It's a hole in the writing, but this time it's done on purpose, to ask why these adults are always comfortable sending teenagers out to fight for them?

Jujutsu Kaisen provides two answers, number one the system is inherently corrupt and it sees the youth as cogs because the system is rooted in traditions that keep the elderly in power. Number two, in Gojo's case at least this is exactly what it was like for him growing up as a child. Gojo is just repeating with his students what was done to him, subconsciously.

The reason Nanami said this, and then repeated it in this most recent chapter is Gojo was born to be a Jujutsu Sorcerer. Being a Jujutsu Sorcerer is a highly deadly occupation for everyone else, except for Gojo. Not only that but because he's so good at it, and he's so lauded for it he's built his entire identity around it. Nanami's not just saying that Gojo is selfish, he's also saying that Gojo thinks being a sorcerer is a good thing. It is the end all, be all of Gojo's existence.

He doesn't want to make it so sorcerers don't have to fight, or make it so all cursed energy is gone for the world like Yuki Tsukumo, his dream is actually kind of limited in scope he doesn't want the school days of his students to be destroyed by the outside world the way it was for him and Geto.

Gojo looks at the symptoms and not the cause. Geto defected, Haibara died, Yaga wasn't really able to do much for his students in both scenarios. Gojo deduced it was because the elders and regressive policies were holding people back in favor of keeping the regime in charge (correct) and that because of that the sorcerers in Gojo's high school years just weren't strong enough to keep up (this is just what Gojo thinks).

His words to Megumi are encouraging him to be strong so he won't get left behind, which as I speculated above might imply Gojo thinks that part of what went wrong with Geto was that he simply wasn't strong enough to keep up with Gojo or stay on his level. If not then he still encourages Megumi to get strong before everything else, he's not taking care of these kids emotional needs, he's pushing them to get stronger because in Gojo's mind that's the be all end all solution to every problem.

"Nanami's line was not saying that Gojo doesn't care about children, it's saying that "You live for Jujutsu." It is the lens through which Gojo sees everything, and so therefore he doesn't think of breaking kids out of the Jujutsu World, just making it a place that's slightly more safe for them. Gojo's ego is so strong that he only ever sees things from his point of view, being a sorcerer was fun for him, his high school days were the happiest time in his life before they got ruined by outside forces.

He's trying to protect those days for his children, but he's not arguing against the existence of an institution like Jujutsu High in the first place. He's not saying the teenagers should never be sent out on missions, he's saying we need to make the teens stronger. If they're stronger than they won't die (that's probably true but they'll be even safer if they don't have to go on missions in the first place).

Now we have a reason! Why do Aizawa and Kakashi send out child soldiers into the battlefield if their goal is to protect their students? Because it's a shonen manga and the main characters are all teenagers.

Why does Gojo send out teenagers to fight for him if he wants to protect them, well I just explained it.

In fact, the entire purpose of Nanami in the story is to give us a character who explicitly treats children like they are children and not miniature adults. Who acknowledges that this is emotionally hard for children to deal with and they shouldn't have to do that.

Nanami's lines of "I'm an adult you're a child" and "Being a child is not a bad thing." would not have the weight they carry if they weren't so different from the way that every other adult in the story (including Gojo) treats children.

Nanami and Gojo have the same goal of making being a Jujutsu Sorcerer easier for children, but Nanami practices what he preaches. He tells Yuji to stand back and that he doesn't need to fight if he sees an enemy that's too strong, to let the adult on scene handle things first.

When he sees that Yuji is disturbed by the idea of killing former humans that Mahito had changed with his technique, he consoles him. He knows that Yuji is a sensitive kid and tries to spare him as much of that grief as possible. When he leaves Yuji behind he tells him explicitly that he's the adult in this situation, he shouldn't be forcing a child to help carry that burden if it's not necessary.

He also explicitly tells Yuji that being strong or jumping into life threatening situations =/= as growing up. Nanami is a character aware that the problem isn't that the children are not strong enough, but that too much responsibility is being thrown on these children. That there is a difference between what children and adults are emotionally capable of. Gojo doesn't see that difference because he reached enlightenment as seventeen. He even explicitly chose Nanami because Gojo knew he wasn't good at that stuff.

Nanami was not saying that Gojo doesn't care about children, Nanami was saying Gojo lives to be a sorcerer, Gojo who loves sorcery doesn't understand why being a sorcerer is too much of an emotional burden on a child. He just doesn't. He literally says his students are flowers.

Now, here's the kicker. Nanami dies.

Nanami wanted Yuji to not take on too much responsibility, and he died leaving Yuji with more responsibility than he could ever carry. Nanami failed in his goal, despite the fact he is the most responsible and well-meaning adult in the story who treats children like they're children.

The reason he dies is because this is what happens to people like Nanami in Jujutsu Society. The whole of society is built to condition people into being cogs and Nanami who's just one person can't overcome it on his own. I can write a whole meta on how Nanami's way of dealing with children is way better than Gojo's and yet they do essentially the same thing, throw way too much responsibility onto Yuji even though he's just a kid. They're both too ingrained in the system to make any sweeping changes, and that's why the child soldiers keep on child soldiering.

Gojo as a Character

The second reason as eluded above that Gojo is not meant to be read as a perfect teacher, or even a good one really is because he's the fourth main character of the cast. If you are a main character, then you need a flaw, and an arc where you either improve upon that flaw or you succumb to it in tragic fashion.

Gojo's not the perfect adult mentor, because he's kind of in the same place as the kids themselves. I think there's a reason we never learn anything about Gojo's backstory, we know nothing about his parents, the Gojo clan, because those details aren't as relevant. The most important thing about Gojo is the three years he spent at high school, because that was the only time he felt like a person, and also because he is trapped there mentally.

There's a reason that Gojo's dying dream is him imagining everyone reset to seventeen years old, because that was where the clock stopped for him in his youth, and that was where all of his regrets as an adult come from. His motivation to help teenagers today only comes from his own youth being ruined, and the adults in his life failing to protect him.

It's very likely that Gojo who lives for Jujutsu probably would never have realized the problems in his current society, if his youth wasn't ruined by those same adults he's now fighting against.

The reason most mentor figures in fiction are not main characters is because as adults they don't really need to grow up anymore. The obvious solution is that you just need your mentor character to just fail to be an adult in some glaring way.

To show how Gojo falls short as an adult, especially in regards to these children and how he treats them is to drag him down from all powerful, all knowing wizard, and make him struggle with the rest of the main cast. Gojo is not a positive adult figure in these kids lives despite having the best of intentions, because he's not really an adult.

I guess if you were already the best and strongest person in the world at seventeen, smarter and more capable than all the adults around you, you wouldn't really feel the need to grow up. Coupled with the fact that you are alienated from other people and do not relate to them on a personal level that's not going to help with your identity formation.

I mean I constantly compare Gojo to Superman, but to be fair to Gojo instead of bullying him like I usually do Clark Kent was raised by parents who raised a boy not a superman, and who constantly tell him that he's just a normal person, his powers don't make him great, it's his heart.

Nanami says that Gojo only fights for himself that ""You don't wield Jujutsu to protect something, you use it solely to for your own sake. What a weirdo" it's likely Gojo only fights for himself because he's never ben told that's he's more than just the six-eyes and more than just the limitless.

The best way to make a mentor a part of the cast, is to make them through some way or another have failed to grow up properly in their youth and therefore they need to do it while the story is taking place. We know how Gojo failed, his springtime of youth ended early, it ended the day he couldn't stop Geto from leaving, the day he can be the strongest sorcerer ever and still fail because sorcerer society is too corrupt for one person to handle alone. We also know he didn't really grow up past this point, because he still thinks the solution is to make people be stronger. Why does he not do anything about Geto for 11 years? In story terms he's basically suspended in time unable to grow past Geto. Kenjaku literally uses the trauma from his youth and the memories that seeing Geto alive would provoke in Gojo again, to trap him because he knew it would make him freeze up. Gojo is frozen in the past, he failed to grow up in story terms and must now grow up while the main story itself is taking place along with the children he's trying to raise.

This is how you make a mentor interesting. You have to make them flawed in some way that makes it worth having them onscreen, because a perfect mentor only serves one purpose to teach a main character and then he's gone.

Dazai Osamu from Bungo Stray Dogs is a character that's almost as massively popular as Gojo. Similiarly, he is a teenage genius who found trouble relating to other people who is now as an adult attempting to mentor two children.

However, Dazai's faults as a mentor are made much more explicit.

Dazai suddenly punched Akutagawa in the face, preventing him from finishing his sentence. Akutagawa flew back onto the ground, his head bouncing off the stone flooring with a thud. "Perhaps I made it look like I wanted to hear excuses. Sorry for the misudnerstanding," Dazai said while rubbing his knuckles. "Urg..." Akutagawa moaned. He'd hit his head so hard that he couldn't even stagger to his feet. "Give me your gun," Dazai ordered one of his men. The subordinate was hesitant but nonetheless handed over his weapon. Next, Dazai removed the magaine from the automatic pistol, took out all but three bullets, then put the magazine back in. He immediately pointed the gun at Akutagawa, who was still on the ground. "I have this friend who's supporting several orphans all on his own, you see," he continued his weapon still drawn and aimed at the boy. "AKutagawa I'm sure Odasaku would've been patient enough to give you the guidance you needed had he been the one who'd found you on the brink of starvation right in the slums. That would have been the 'right' thing to do. But 'righteousness' doesn't take very kindly to me. And there's only one thing people like me do to useless subordinates." Dazai mercilessly pulled the trigger the moment he finished his sentence.

(Don't worry, Akutagawa lived). Dazai is a character who had a troublesome youth he never grew up from. He was too smart for the world as a kid, and because of that joined up with the mafia because he wanted to feel like he was more connected to life and other people by getting closer to death (weird dazai logic I know) and was the best of the best at it, but it only drove him further away from people. He makes one friend, and loses that friend similiar to Gojo. Just like Gojo too, that friend is the one who gives him his purpose as an adult that drives him to mentor young people.

"Odasaku.. What should I do?" "Be on the side that saves people," Odasaku replied, "If both sides are the same, then choose to become a good person. Save the weak, protect the orphaned. You might not see a great difference between right and wrong, but... saving others is something just a bit more wonderful."

Is this not what Nanami said just in different words. Odasaku tells Dazai point blank, I know you're selfish, I know that you don't really have any concept of good or evil but you can choose to save others anyway.

Isn't this what Gojo does?

He is selfish. He doesn't really consider the morality or his actions or get hung up on the idea of protecting the weak like Nanami or Geto do, but he still does go out of his way to live for the ideal of saving children.

Both Gojo and Dazai are characters who are struggling with this ideal of saving the children, because while their ideals are good they themselves as people are morally gray. Adding onto that, they're also children and a good deal of their backstory is devoted to showing why they never really grew out of the mindset that they held as children.

The story doesn't call them horrible monsters for it, it's just saying that they need to grow up or face the consequences of not growing up.

"I have one regret," I said. "I never got to say good-bye to my friend. He was always there for me as 'just a friend.' He was bored of this world and always waited for death to come for him." "That man was in search of a place to die just like me?" "No, not exactly," I answered. "I thought you were similiar to Dazai at first, rushing into battle and wishing for death without even considering the value of your own life. But he's different. He's sharp-witted with a mind like a steel trap. And he's just a child - a sobbing child abandoned in the darkness of a world far emptier of the world we're seeing." He was too smart for his own good. THat was why he was always alone. The reason why ANgo and I were able to be by his side was that we understood the solitude that surrounded him, and we never stepped inside it no matter how close we stood. But in that moment, I kind of regretted not stepping in and invading a little.

Does that sound like the narrative is condemning Dazai for being who he is? No, it's Dazai's best friend offering empathy and understanding for how lonely it must be, and how if Dazai made real connections with people then he could have a chance of growing up like everyone else. That's what the narrative challenges Dazai to do while empathizing with why it's harder for him to and why he's still trapped in his youth, because to take care of children you need to be an adult yourself. Otherwise if you're a child, and I'm a child, then nobody's driving the plane.

Rupert Giles from Buffy the Vampire Slayer is another mentor who faces the same moral dilemna that Gojo does. In fact his entire character revolves around the fact he knows deep down he's sending a kid to her early grave.

Buffy is the Chosen One TM. One girl in all the world is chosen to fight the vampires. Much like sorcerer society, there is an entire bureaucracy dedicated to identifying the chosen slayer and then raising her up and guiding her as a weapon to be used against the threat of vampires and demons.

The watchers are all adults. The slayer is a teenage girl. The slayer slays. The watchers watch. Just like in Jujutsu Kaisen, there is a necessity for the Slayer to exist, because the alternative is just letting vampires eat people. Yet even if the slayer needs to exist, at the end of the day a bunch of adult men are sending a teenage girl to fight for them.

All Slayers die young. All of them without an exception. No matter how good of a mentor is, no matter how much he cares about her, Buffy is going to die one day, and Giles is going to watch. Because that's what the watcher does, they watch. Sending her on missions means Buffy's in danger, not sending her means innocent people are in danger.

It's a scenario that's pretty much like Gojo's, and the narrative of Buffy makes it explicit that Giles really can't be a father figure to bufy in this scenario. A father would have to choose to put their child above the world and keep them safe, not send them out straight into danger.

It is a choice that Giles makes over and over again. He is always her watcher and never her father. There's a season 3 episode where Giles literally drugs Buffy as a part of a test to prove she is "worthy" of being a slayer. A test that deliberately puts her in harms way that he complies with - because the system told him to. A choice to be her watcher and act according to what the council of watchers wanted and not what Buffy wanted. A choice that shatters the illusion that Buffy had of him, showing her that Giles is only there to teach her to be a Slayer, not to take her to the iceapades or buy ice cream with her.

In this scenario Gojo is very much like Giles as no matter how much he may personally like these kids, he is not their father, and there is only so much he can do for them when he's still feeding them into the same system. Giles loves Buffy, Giles wants to protect Buffy, Giles is a part of the system that exploits Buffy. Giles is an adult asking Buffy to risk her life to save the world.

Gojo goes out of his way to recruit Megumi, Yuji, and Yuta among others. Gojo still doesn't let them be anything other than sorcerers, and as sorcerers they're still guaranteed to one day die and probably die young. Gojo wants to revolutionize the system he is, but he still sends out his students to do missions as part of that system. He's not letting them escape it, he's just making them be stronger sorcerers.

Not only is Gojo not a father figure to Megumi, he is exploiting him more or less. The option of Megumi not being a sorcerer isn't on the table. No matter how well-intentioned he may be, or how good his ideals are he's still an adult telling a child to make a sacrifice for the world.

So, there are two character conflicts with two different mentors that both reflect Gojo. Gojo cannot grow up because he's still trapped in the tragedy of his youth. He himself is not an adult, for various reasons (lack of connection to other people, trauma in his youth) he's egocentric like a child but there are children in his life who need him to be.

Gojo also cannot be a proper adult, because he is part of a system that exploits children. We see what the system does to proper adults like Nanami, he shows us just how much well-intentioned adults struggle to help kids under sorcerer society so how about Gojo who thinks being a sorcerer is really fun. A proper adult would never send kids on those missions, they'd find some way to shield them but Gojo cannot do that. Because sorcerers are short staffed and innocent people will die if he doesn't. Because Gojo isn't the sorcer-king of Jujtusu Society and is working within it to affect change. There are reasons, but still Gojo is failing to live up to his desire to protect children because he's not doing what a responsible adult should do in this situation.

Gojo's failures are two-fold, and yet it's because of those failures that he was a main character who got as much special plot attention as he did. If Gojo was a perfect teacher he wouldn't be a character. After all, we relate to the struggles of other human beings we see onscreen in television and in movies so why would we care about a perfect character?

Gojo has a lot more to say about teachers in shonen manga, and also about childhood vs. adulthood as a bad teacher struggling to be a good one, then a teacher who's already perfect. Nanami said those lines because he wanted us to understand the audience that this is who Gojo is, he is a selfish and egotistical person who nonetheless was trying to do good things.

[lurkingshan]

Japanese QL Corner

We are up to seven live airing QLs from Japan! Five of these are on Gaga and two are being generously provided via fansubs.

A brief interlude for me to climb on my soapbox: if you are a fan of Japanese queer media who is not based in Japan, you really should be supporting GagaOOLala. They are the sole international distributor of most of these shows and the only reason international fans can watch them as they release. They’re a queer-owned Taiwanese company specifically focused on providing international access to global queer media, and their monthly subscription is much cheaper than other streaming services. They’re not perfect but they are quite responsive to feedback about their catalogue and approach; please consider subscribing if you love these shows!

I’m really loving most of these shows and I highly recommend jumping in to the weekly watch!

Takara's Treasure

I fall more in love with these two every week. We finally got some answers on Takara's backstory, and as expected, it is the mother who abandoned him that has been harassing him. Taishin blazed in to give that lady a piece of his mind before even realizing who she was, and it only made Takara love him more. The revelation that Takara is holding back with Taishin because he doesn't want to be covetous like his mother sent me into a bit of a tailspin. I loved Taishin getting his moment to reciprocate Takara's care, as well as Takara's amusement that Taishin still hasn't pieced together what they are to each other. I'm excited for it to finally click for him soon.

Sugar Dog Life

I'll be honest, this first episode did not hit right for me. I always struggle with copaganda heavy romances, especially when the show is intentionally framing cops as benevolent and explicitly linking that to the romantic arc. But I liked the cooking parts of it a lot! We'll see how it proceeds. This one is being fan subbed, so if anyone is having trouble finding it feel free to hit me up in DMs and I'll point you.

Cosmetic Playlover

This one is coming in hot with two episodes a week, because Japan is trying to kill me. I like the concept and vibe but the execution is a bit all over the place; it feels like they want this to be a dark story but aren’t willing to fully commit to that, so dark things happen but then get treated too lightly. The pacing also feels a little wacky and we’re rushing through plot and relationship development in a way that leaves it all feeling a bit ungrounded. Sahashi went from harassing and threatening to out Natsume to kissing and claiming to be serious about him in the space of 15 minutes, and then suddenly in the next ep there’s a new villain and suspense plot. This one is just not clicking; I’m tilting my head with a furrowed brow.

I Hear the Sunspot

Sigh. I really didn’t need another arc about a third party interloper coming between the boys, but here we are. Maya is a throwback to the bad old femme fatale archetype steeped in misogyny and I don’t love it. She’s arrogant, manipulative, and mean for no good reason, and she doesn’t feel like she fits in this story about decent people trying their best. There was a way to do this plot with a more sympathetic portrayal of her, but unfortunately they didn't take that route. I’m disappointed that she’s with us for multiple episodes, and it’s hard to believe this rude little girl can really come between them. I said last week that it felt like they regressed Kohei and Taichi’s relationship in the time skip and I’m feeling that even more now. Aside from this mess, I really liked all of Taichi’s scenes with his friends this week as he continues trying to work out his feelings for Kohei. I hope we get back to Taichi and Kohei spending time together again soon; that’s the real heart of this show and I already miss it.

Ayaka is in Love with Hiroko

Sigh. Last week I was mad at the characters around Hiroko, but this week I am forced to be mad at the show for how it's dealing with this entire plot involving Hiroko's decisions about her privacy at work, Risa's inappropriate interference, and Ayaka's bizarre conclusion that she should announce her love for Hiroko to the whole office. This whole love triangle and forced outing plot was ill-considered and it's dragging the show down; we should not have had Risa being so wrong and manipulative or ventured into queer workplace politics at all if the show wasn't prepared to take it seriously. On the plus side, we finally got the backstory for Hiroko, and it was surprising in a good way. I hope this show can get back to the zany comedy it was doing so well before it got bogged down in all this mess.

Mr. Mitsuya's Planned Feeding

Episode 3 just went up on @isaksbestpillow's blog, and it's a fantastic one. I was howling watching Mitsuya wailing on his ex and poor Ishida trying to process this new rival on the scene. Shige continues to be the MVP and I loved the way he encouraged Ishida with a mix of sage advice and sexy sass (also loved that Mitsyua immediately knew that gossip ratted him out). And I screamed again when Ishida got worked up and confessed; I didn't expect that to happen so fast and it was excellent! This show feels so mature in the best way; I really feel like I'm watching adults who have lived.

Tagging @bengiyo to add the anime update!