#the boy from before regresses a bit

[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)

[winterspellsfrozenkit]

One thing I wish was understood a bit better about Twisted Wonderland.

Everyone in this game has trauma or personal struggles and it's NOT a competition of who has it worse. Honestly, sometimes I wish everyone's traumas were discussed more in depth in the game like we get with each person who Overblots, but we don't have time for it. With the Overblot boys, their trauma is shoved directly into the spotlight and we hear exactly how their situations make them feel. But the rest of the cast, ALL of them, have personal struggles and/or trauma. This is just a small list of some of the issues each non Overblot student has.

Ace masks the fear he feels in a lot of situations, and he's got an inferiority complex on some level. Notice how he bullied the player and Grim in our first interaction? That is a sign of someone who is looking to feel better by pushing someone else down because they don't feel good about themselves.

Deuce grew up with a single mother who had to work multiple jobs to make ends meet, which causes him to worry about her, and he was a delinquent in middle school, which made his mom, the one person he worries over, cry. He lives with those regrets, but he's still got those old habits and he agonizes over the fact he's not academically where he'd like to be and his behavior regresses when in heated situations.

Trey has severe trauma at being screamed at for FIVE HOURS over giving Riddle ONE slice of tart, so much that his vitals are severely affected at the thought of Mrs. Rosehearts and he's heavily conflict avoidant.

Cater has had to move all the time and as a defense mechanism, refuses to be honest or get close to people because he doesn't want to get attached only to be ripped away from them.

Ruggie lives in EXTREME poverty when not at school. He struggles to make ends meet and he has to work so hard in a system that is DESIGNED to keep him in poverty, because many beastmen still prefer segregation in the Sunset Savannah.

Jack has one of the healthier mindsets, but he still struggles with being open and honest about his feelings, which makes it hard to have friends, and he struggled with watching Leona, someone he's idolized, fall short of what he believed of Leona.

Jade and Floyd are implied to have grown up in some form of crime family and both seem to have handled the fact their lives could be in constant danger differently. Both like things being interesting, but Jade seems to prefer seclusion and control, while Floyd enjoys scaring people off and having as much fun as he can before he goes.

Kalim is someone who has had multiple assassination attempts on his life, even from his own family. He masks behind a smile, but he's afraid to trust people, and when he DOES TRY to talk about it, it gets brushed off because he has money. Also, he has to deal with the fact Jamil has been undermining his ability to progress by not treating him as if he's capable at all.

Epel has been teased and bullied on how he looked to the point where he started instigating fights to ensure he wouldn't be teased. He also has to fall in line with what Vil wants because he made the error of picking a fight with Vil and getting his butt HANDED to him. To further add, Vil is NOT NICE about it when Epel resists, with one example being Vil grabbing him by the ear and pulling hard as a form of punishment.

Rook has deal with the fact that for being someone who is super perceptive and can notice details, he didn't realize Vil's feelings around Neige, likely because he was blinded by his own admiration for both of them and that's a bitter pill to swallow.

Ortho has to deal with being basically created as a replacement for dead Ortho Shroud, trying to figure out if he's just really a robot made by Idia with really good AI or more than that, and dealing with the fact he loves his brother so much, but his brother doesn't take care of himself and it's disheartening to watch Idia's self-destruction.

Lilia has so much war trauma, losing his loved ones, having been exiled, and so much other crap. Even so, he forced himself to put the war and his trauma about it in the past, where it belonged for the sake of his two sons who both lost so much to war, which is something Baur/Baul could NOT do which was to Sebek's detriment.

Silver has had to live with the idea that his adoptive father would likely outlive him, then is faced with the fact that his father is basically abandoning everything about their life in Briar Valley before he learns that his biological parents were the enemies of the person he serves and cares about, Malleus, and the only father he's ever known.

Sebek has grown up with internalized racism/speciesism against humans thanks to his upbringing and he basically rejects half of his heritage with how he treats his father. He does not even realize how hurtful his comments are until he's faced with those remarks being directed at him by a younger version of his grandfather.

And this isn't everything each student has to face. This is just broad strokes. Yana Toboso wrote a story about flawed people who all have gone through really hard and difficult things because that's the point. As Toboso said in a 2023 interview:

“Happy endings in Disney works come from righteous actions and love, but I believe that the villains are characters who do not get saved during the story. That is why, through this game, I want to portray the message that even if you get beat up all the way to a bad ending, you can grow from it and live your life without feeling discouraged.

Acting lame, obstinate, without hesitation, being open and honest—it’s not as bad as it sounds. 

I would like to paint a positive picture of living honestly with yourself and not worrying about others.

In today’s society there are so many people who live in fear of failure and are always walking on eggshells, but nobody’s flawless. It is exhausting to try to live your life so that no one will hate you.”

Everyone, even people you don't know or do not like, have gone through things that shaped who they are. Sometimes, how we've adapted to handle the bad things that happen will force us to hit rock bottom. But you don't have to die when you hit rock bottom.

You can have terrible things happen to you and have maladaptive strategies to handle your experiences, but you aren't stuck that way forever. You can learn how to change your habits, learn to be okay with yourself, and work at being better than you were the day before.

Human growth is not linear. It's a bunch of taking steps forward and backsliding and learning and making mistakes over and over again and accepting failure, not as a testament to your character, but as part of the process of growth... and that's something all the students have to learn, not just the Overblot boys. Because all of them, every single one, are handling their own personal issues, even if it isn't shoved right in our faces.

[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.

[jellykyunnie]

˗ˏˋ Entry : 064 -Drabbles: Birthday! Boy! Sung Jinwoo x Fem! Reader ◛⑅·˚ ♡ ˎˊ˗

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚ 𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕁𝕚𝕟𝕨𝕠𝕠 ˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

╰┈➤ ❝ [ Strawberry Kisses ] ¡! ❞

"Sarang, you didn't have to" Jinwoo smiles as he sees the cake prepared for him.

A typical strawberry cake with jam in the middle of it instead if a typical written "Happy Birthday".

"So this is why my sons were uncooperative in letting me see what you have been up to for the last few hours" He then affectionately pinches your cheek "You didn't have to"

"Don't be such a mood killer" You giggle, kissing his cheek affectionately. "It's your special day, why wouldn't it we celebrate it?"

Because I spent at least a hundred years not celebrating it before he regressed to meet you again.

Of course, he would never say that part out loud. He would never want to upset you.

Instead, he reaches his hand out and brushes your hair away from that pretty face he engraved into his brain.

"Come on, make a wish! Beru helped me in picking out this cake!" You say, urging him to come after putting the candle in and lighting it up.

"Yes, I worked hard my liege—" Beru's little head appeared over on your shoulder but Jinwoo immediately flicked him away.

"This is my moment so shoo" He simply puts him in the land of repose(yes, it's timeout if you are asking)

"I thought you said your shadows are your kids? Why are you so mean?"

"Dad wants time with mom"

"Hahah"

That sweet laughter of yours.

That was the sound the echoed in his mind over the years of his fight against the monarchs and gods.

And as you start singing happy birthday to him in that imperfectly perfect voice of yours— He cant help but feel more in love that what he already is.

He wanted to cherish this moment, embed it into his memory and heart so that it may never become just a fleeting moment.

"Make a wish!" You cheer, pushing the cake gently to him.

Jinwoo shakes his head and leans down to blow out the candles.

". . . ."

He then feels something wet on his cheek when you poked him and reached to inspect.

"Why you little..." Jinwoo chuckles as he sees the icing on his fingertip, "Come here!"

And thus, he started chasing you around the apartment. He eventually caught you of course, who do you think he is?

"Did Jinah teach you to be this mischievous?" He rubs his cake-stained cheek against yours. "Mn.. My cutie is being a troublemaker."

"Ack, no, I'm sorry!" You burst into giggles as your feel his hands tickling your sides.

"Heh..." He simply smiles.

Can't he just stay here for a little while longer? Bask in this simple moment? Celebrating birthdays, sharing hugs, sharing laughter, sharing affection kisses.

Can't he stay here for just a little bit longer?

"So what did you wish for?" You ask when he finally stopped playing around.

"I wished that everyday I get to see you smile" He presses your foreheads together. "That we can be this happy everyday."

꒰ 🪼 A/N: I'll be going on a semi-hiatus until the end of april or may sjdjshs. I dont really post that frequently but I'll still be here dw. I just need to catch up with my schoolworks. I have ten units i need to finish by may 30 so I hope you all understand. I still have a line of fics on wip and about to be made so I wont just drop off dead xD ꒱

ʚ(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ .｡✧: ~♡ —! stories written by kyunnie; translations, reposts, plagiarism are strictly forbidden.

[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 ♡ 984 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 when you get up to 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. “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.

[impish-baby]

Hi! I hope you make sure to drink some water, eat a little something, and keep warm. May I request a fic where let's say the hero's sidekick gets kidnapped by a group of villains? When they wake up in an unfamiliar place they panic and start to regress but they're trying to hide it when they begin to get interrogated...(they're failing miserably at hiding it)

Maybe the villain and sidekick are hybrids? Up to you. Thank you and keep safe!

In April, I open my bill - platonic yandere! villians × sidekick! reader (pt.1) - 🪶🗡

You're so getting benched after this.

It's not even your fault that you were caught! Maybe you begged a little to go out on a mission, but it was supposed to be a simple stake out, not an ambush. Nobody has let you out on the field without a babysitter since you started training! And the one time you are, you're kidnapped. Great. You'll never hear the end of it.

To make things better, there's a power suppressor strapped to your ankle. Cowards. It not like you're already bound to the damm chair you woke up in, they just had to go the extra mile. Maybe they see you as an actual threat? A tiny bit of pride swells in your chest.

You are a threat! You're part of the best hero team there is, doesn't matter that you aren't debuted out to the public yet, you're still an important member!

.....they're going to come save you soon, you know it.

There's no way you've been passed out for very long, a few hours at most, right? Yeah, it won't be too long now.

On the bright side, you're not beat up! A small donk to the back of the head and that's it. Your wings ache from being fixed to your back, but at least you'll be able to stretch them when you're back to base. Gotta look at the positive things.

When the door clicks open you're just expecting to see the same idiot goons that grabbed you in the first place, not the nemesis of your mentor.

You take it back, there's absolutely no positives.

"My, you are certainly a treat.. I should've given Helix and his crew more credit." Asphodel has a pleasant smile on his face, it's the opposite of comforting. "You're the one that's gotten the city all in a buzz, huh? The little sidekick Apollo took so graciously under his wing.."

You're not scared. You're not. You're terrified.

So much blood has been split by the villian you could fill an ocean and still have some leftover. He's cruel, careless, the last hero he sinked his claws into was dropped unceremoniously on the steps of the capital building. The only thing your team might be retrieving is a corpse.

"So, dearest, I'm awfully curious. Everyone is really. Why don't you tell me a little about yourself?" A plush stool is dragged in front of you so the villain can sit, his own wings spread out gracefully behind him. Lucky bastard.

When you only glare silently he chuckles, his smile turning into a smirk. "Aw, are you shy? Poor thing, here, I'll go first to ease your nerves." Asphodel holds put his hand like he expects you to shake it, "I imagine you know my name already, so I won't bore you with telling you things you're already aware of, but I have very special plans for you. It's such a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

You'll die alone. The last thing you'll have done before going out is getting in a stupid argument with everyone because they said you weren't ready to do things solo. At least you can't tell a dead person I told you so. Nobody can blame you for the wetness slipping down your cheeks either.

"Oh, are those tears already?" He feighns surpise, placing the previously outstretched hand over his heart. "I thought you were a hero in training? How unbecoming of someone under the city's golden boy's tutelage."

A pathetic chirp almost leaves your lips before you bite your tongue. You just want your nest. You want to wake up like this was a horrible nightmare and have Apollo baby you like you're a delicate fledgling again.

"I haven't touched a single hair on your pretty head and already you've started with the waterworks." He gives a disappointed sigh, "perhaps that's why you've been here a week with no pesky heros showing up, they finally have a chance to be rid of a weakling among their ranks."

A week? No. No, someone would've come for you by then.

"Hm?" He leans towards you, cupping your cheek surprisingly gentle. It still makes you flinch. "You don't believe me, do you, dear?" Asphodel hums, leaning back and pulling a phone from his pocket. "Here, see for yourself."

The mission was Monday, it's 10 pm on Saturday now.

A news report just rubs salt in the wound, there's not one mention of your name. Not a missing persons report. There's nothing to attribute that someone's been looking for you at all.

"It's a little mean of them, isn't it?" He turns the video off before putting the phone back into his pocket, "Abandoning you here with me, don't fret though, darling."

A broken chirp finally does leave you when he reaches to pet your head, his eyes widening almost as much as yours are. "Oh. Oh. That does make my job so much easier."

He stands up in a blink of an eye to reach under your costume, shushing you softly. "It's ok, I'll only be a moment." Asphodel gasps when he brushes your feathers, stepping back and wagging a finger at you. "Naughty thing, do you know how bad for you that is? Goodness.."

You're still frozen still with fear and shock, not even moving when he starts to untie you from the chair. "Honestly.. we'll hope that you haven't done any permanent damage, it'll be a shame if you're grounded because of this."

You were told that it's safe. That you still used your wings enough, so you didn't need to worry about your flight being affected. You trusted Apollo and the others more than anything.

"There we are.." Asphodel also goes ahead and takes off your cloak for you once the restraints are gone, cutting two slits into the back of your undershirt with his talons so your wings can slip through. "Perfect, that must feel so much better."

It does, or it would if he didn't immediately start picking through your feathers.

"Hush," he's being careful, straightening anything that's out of place with a practiced hand. "I'm helping, my dove. You're safe, those old nasty heroes that betrayed you don't matter. Just focus on me."

You don't mean to melt into his arms, but all the emotions you feel mix into a confusing mess. Being held makes it go away a little.

"Good, you're such a good little one, aren't you?" He coos, words dripping with honeyed sweetness. "You don't think about anything else other than feeling safe with me, that's all you need to know."

(a/n: apologies..I got away from the prompt with this I think qwq hopefully it was still enjoyable! I'll do something more with reader regressing if there's interest)

[kyxhiin]

Marvel but he gets de-aged and now JL has to find out how to take care of a teenager with god like powers and a mind of a toddler (Marvel turned into a teenager, Billy’s a toddler)

"CAPTAIN!" was the last thing Billy heard when he was blasted with some ray gun. He'll be fine, he won't die to this.. Anyways🤷‍♂️.

That's what he thought when he found himself in the body of a teenage boy. Before the short seconds that his mind regressed along with it the only thought that ran through his head is "Aw shucks."

So now the JL stood, in the middle of the battlefield. A young maybe 14 year old boy sitting in the rubble, sucking his thumb. The boy looked just like Captain, his big teethy grin, the oddly smooth and perfect complexion, perfectly slightly waved hair (1c hair if you know what I'm talking about). But younger, with a now rosy cheeks with baby fat still in them, a definite younger appearence with a bigger beady eyes (Guy's his eyes get squintier as he grows TRUSTTT), and a shorter less bulkier figure, he was now a whopping 5'7 compared to his usual 8 feet. Still in his usual attire of red, and lightning bolt designs, with the white cape sewn together by strands of gold. But the cape was a lot bigger on him, as it stayed the same size as when normal Captain Wore it.

Wonder Woman approached the teen boy, looking down at him from the crator that was made from the blast. She relieved in a sigh as Captain didn't seem to be harmed. Soon the rest of the Justice League followed to look at the younger Marvel. Gazing at him like deers in headlights.

Is that really him? What if it's a doppelganger? I mean, he seems pretty harmless. All he doing right now is sucking his thumb, as he's curled into a ball. Wonder Woman was the first to speak.

Wonder Woman: Brother, is that really you?

Captain Marvel, who slowly raised his head. He had a large smile on his face as he saw the faces of the Justice League members.

Captain Marvel who's waving: Hello!😄

The justice league took a step back. Well.. That was certainly him, but something seemed wrong. His voice was high pitched for sure, but his way of speaking reminded them of a.. toddler?

Wonder Woman descended down into the crator, looking at Captain Marvel. Not keeping her eyes off of him. Marvek continued to suck his thumb as he watched the Themyscirian go down.

She approached him step by step cautiously, she now stood directly infront of the boy. Hesitating a bit before she picked him up. (I believe in 9 feet tall Wonder Woman Supremacy)

Captain didn't fuss about it at all, as if he was used to this. Wonder Woman held him up by the arm pits as she looked directly at him, eye to eye.

Wonder Woman: Are you okay?

Captain Marvel: Uhmm yah!

Wonder Woman nodded as she subconsciously held him in the toddler hold, putting the now teen brotheren on her hip as she descended upwards.

(Wip, need some more ideas until i finish this. Writing toddlers is also very hard.)

[kkayyerr]

Secret.

Summary: Litte!reader accidentally telling Rafe about little!JJ’s bruises that he got from the fight with Luke, and Rafe can’t stand a thoughts about him getting hurt by his father again.

Warnings: Age regression, heavy angst, talking about domestic violence and abuse, fluffy ending.

It was almost a month since JJ moved to Tannyhill and started living with you and Rafe. He was more open about his regression and other struggles now, even though he still kept some distance from Rafe. He kept his relationship with his father a secret, not wanting to talk about all the abuse that had been going on in his house for years now. JJ tried to not pull up his shirt too much, hiding all the bruises that had been left there by his father. The boy knew that conversation about his dad would make him too vulnerable for his likings; he didn’t want Rafe to see him like that, at least not yet. 

However, one day the whole situation had completely changed.

You and JJ were playing in the living room when you unintentionally pulled up his hoodie while both of you were playfully fighting. Your heart dropped when you saw all those bruises and scars on his stomach and ribs. Even in the regressed state, you knew what it meant. And you also knew that in those kinds of situations you need to call for Daddy.

You stormed out of the room before JJ could've stopped you, rushing to the kitchen where Rafe was sitting, probably dealing with some business problems. His face brightened for a second when he saw you, but his expression quickly darkened when he saw that scared look on your face. 

 

„What’s wrong, kid?”

 

 

You approached him, trying to find a proper way to explain the situation. JJ wouldn’t ask for help because he was too afraid of being seen as „weak��, so you had to do that for him instead. 

 

„JJ got boo-boos on his tummy.”

 

After hearing your words, Rafe had closed his eyes for a second, taking a deep breath. He knew that JJ’s relationship with his father wasn’t the best, but he didn’t know just how far that asshole might’ve gone. He clenched his jaw before getting up from where he was sitting and approaching you. Rafe gave you a little comforting kiss on the forehead, silently letting you know that he’s proud of you for telling him. 

 

„Grab the car keys, baby, and wait for us outside. We’ll be there in a minute."

 

You knew that it wasn’t one of the situations where you get to ask a thousand questions, so you just did as you were told, grabbing the keys and going outside to wait for them by Rafe’s car. 

He left the kitchen, heading to the living room. When he entered, he saw JJ sitting on the floor and hugging his knees. He probably was regressing, and he also probably was mad at you for telling Rafe about the bruises. Rafe crouched down in front of him, gently caressing the boy’s knee with his hand just to get his attention. JJ finally looked up; his eyes were so empty, and it seemed to make Rafe’s heart ache for a second. 

Why would that asshole hurt him like that? 

 

„Go away.”

 

JJ muttered, feeling embarrassed and weak, now that his secret came out. His whole life he was way too afraid of asking for help. It was so hard for him to accept it either. 

Rafe had to quickly calm himself down. He won’t let JJ get back to that house, that’s for sure. 

Rafe’s hands grabbed the fabrics of JJ’s hoodie. He wanted to look at the bruises himself just to make sure that the professional help won’t be needed. JJ, however, didn’t want him to see that. He gently slapped his hands away, not wanting to be touched at all right now. Rafe raised his hands up in the air, showing that he won’t touch the boy without his permission. 

 

„I won’t hurt you, I promise.”

 

He said reassuringly. JJ’s gaze softened, and his hand loosened the grip that he was holding on his hoodie, trying to hide all the evidence of the abuse. 

 

„Can you pull it up a little bit, please?”

 

JJ hesitated for a minute, even though Rafe’s words sounded pretty convincing. He just wanted to help, that’s all. His words were sincere, and the voice was soft, making him finally do what he was asked to, pulling up the shirt and demonstrating his completely bruised belly.

Rafe sighed, trying to keep his temper in check, even though it was pretty hard. He quickly helped JJ pull down the hoodie, then helped him get up from the floor. 

 

„We’re going to your house, and I’m picking up all of your stuff. You’re not getting back there, understood?”

 

Rafe’s voice was stern, but he wasn’t mad at JJ. He was mad at himself for not noticing the signs of his suffering for almost a month, even though it was so obvious. Maybe he was just too busy struggling himself to notice it. 

His lips formed a little faded smile when JJ finally nodded. Rafe almost sighed with relief, knowing that he won’t have to beg him to leave his abusive household. 

He had to gently hold JJ’s hand while leading him out of the house and to the car, because the boy was trembling from all the stress that he had relieved while having to look back at all the awful things that his dad had done to him. 

You smiled at both of them, opening Rafe’s car with the key in your hand. Rafe helped you and JJ to get in the car, buckling both of you up immediately after. 

He got into the driver’s seat, starting the car and looking at JJ in the rearview mirror. 

 

„You okay?”

 

The question was rhetorical. He knew that the boy wasn’t okay. His body was shaking, and his eyes were starting to tear up, probably just from thoughts of seeing his father again. There was nothing that Rafe could’ve done to help right now, and it was bothering him. 

You saw that JJ was trembling and immediately hugged him, holding him close while he was fighting back tears. 

 

„Dada's gonna pwotect us, don’ worry.”

 

Rafe smiled at that statement, knowing that it was true. He checked his glove box once more, smirking a little bit when he saw his gun in its place. Luke was about to get a long, painful conversation. 

Taglist: @tinylilacbun @rafecameronsloverrrrr @aew-regression-cove

[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

[yourcutelittlegayfriend]

No More Chances:

Fate's Prologue Assessment

CUT!

Let's review your scrip again, yes?

• Regression is the act of going back or a return to a past.

• You can guess what types of manwha I've reading.

• That's the AU for this fic that I intended for Y/N to have.

• Regarding about their past, I have mentioned that they have been regressing far too many times, reliving a new and yet still old life.

• Answer to why so many resets is possibly because of the 'butterfly effect' or something where even repeating resets can achange the outcomes because of the new actions you perform.

• Y/N might have done something that was different from 'the script' that led to a bad outcome resulting to another reset.

• The past or Y/N's original life is permanent and can never be change.

• Y/N will always come back as the young abandoned orphan of Bruce Wayne, who was neglected and forgotten in favor of his other children.

• Resets can only happen when Y/N is literally killed, Y/N does not have the power to control it, if Y/N want to reset, you know what you have to do, that's the price you must pay.

• Life is precious and if you want to play with it, it'll cost you your own life and sanity.

• I headcannon that death already know about this but decided not to interfer, it's not like you're an actual immortal or anything, I guess you can say you're already punishing yourself by caging your fate in a loop hole.

• Going back to the backstories, everything is a bit blurry but will be revealed by flashbacks (That's what happens when you keep **** yourself).

• Y/N remembers their mother but not her face or voice, they remember moments with them but only the fleeting ones, their touch, the warm kiss on your forehead and the cold hands that touched your bloodied cheek before it drop to the ground.

• Y/N is born and raise as a Gothamite more so on the poorer parts of Gotham.

• It's a bit ironic that Y/N's backstory is almost the same as Bruce if not for a little difference in narrative, A young mother finally earnings extra money from work and took her kid out for some mother and child bonding as a request for their birthday but the night ended with a robber being a little trigger happy and shot the mother in an alleyway grabbing all her money and possesions while leaving the traumatized child to watch their mother's life leave her body.

• Commissioner Gordon arrived at the scene and couldn't help but reminiscent a little wayne boy also sitting on the cold concrete floor of crime alley crying for his parents death years ago.

• Implied that in the next parts that Y/N will become mature and more far off than the other version of her.

• Y/N might be a kid again but they remembered some of their supposed 'ending' and in return gain more than enough trauma.

• It might be a little bit corny or too much but I want Y/N to be a little petty or hateful to the rest of the family in the upcoming interactions.

• Only acting nice and patient around the rest when you face them, they're detectives I know but how are they gonna find out when your fake acting doesn't really matter from the rest of their problems am I right?.

Lil tiny note : I want this fic have a lil angsty with some comedic stuff would that be alright?

That's all I got for now but if any of you guys want to add more traits for your own Y/N you guys can add it down.

Let's take 5!

I'll prepare for your next lines, ok?

〖 = ✧ = 〗

Do you guys want me to tag you on this stuff as well or just on the main story?

[halitis]

do i have anything anything against jason as a character? no. i actually like him quite a bit! i think hes really interesting!

BUT DO I THINK SOME JASON FANS ARE FUCKING DUMB AS FUCK?!?? YES BITCH WHAT THE FUCK?

im gonna go through all the shit wrong with this comment thread one by one because jesus fucking CHRIST!!!!

1. "that thing" first of all. What. she is literally just a evil-aligned poc woman. she has been raised in this environment and as a result of that this is really the only life available for her and thats the tragedy of her character!

2. "why did she get with roy" THEY ARE FUCKING SOULMATES. THEIR ENTIRE THING IS THE INHERENT LOVE THEY SHARE FOR EACH OTHER WHILE ALSO VALUING THEIR MORALS ABOVE EACH OTHER. IT IS THE COMPLEXITY OF RAISING A CHILD TOGETHER AND ALSO TRYING TO FIND MIDDLE GROUND. IT IS BEGGINT THE OTHER TO CHANGE AND KNOWING THEY WONT.

3. "MY BABY JASON" YOU CANNOT SAY THAT AFTER YOU JUST INSULTED JADE.... LITTERALLY CANNOT. the biggest fucking hypocrytical statement i have ever fucking heard!!! bro!!! jason is Nawt a good person! he just flat out isnt! he has done so much horrid shit, not just to his familt, but to roy's family too. like he is not ur sweet innocent traumatised boy, he is a fucked up grown ass man who was hurt and decided to take that pain out on others. he is no fucking different from jade except he thinks hes doing rhe right thing, at least jade knows she isnt

4. "lian baby mama is jason now" ive talked abt this before, but sexism in fandom spaces when it comes to mlm ships is so fucking common it is fucking absurd. why are women only used as babymakers for ur gay characters?? why can they not be complex characters while men can???? it is fucking absurd how common it is in dc fandom and i frankly dont know why im shocked by it! women are regressed to one of three roles: evil villain who abused male love interest, baby maker, BAMF with no complexity or character at all and it is honestly so fucking tiring and just, boring to read??? like how do you not just hate it??????

5. "unemployed" honestly. i have no words. all im saying is it is No Fucking Shock that the woc is being pushed into these awful stereotypes.

now we are up to the worst part. the final comment...

6. "how are you gonna sleep with my man" ROY LEFT JADE. NOT THE OTHER WAY ROUND. roy was on an undercover mission and fell in love with jade and got her pregnant! he left because he would not be able to arrest her!!! all she fucking knew was one of the first people she truly ever loved had fucking gotten her to trust him and then left her, she had to deal with that pregnancy BY HERSELF. SHE LITTERALLY SAYS SHE SPENT THE ENTIRE PREGNANCY WAITING FOR ROY TO COME BACK TO HER, AND SHE WASNT EVEN MAD SHE STILL LOVED HIM.... she didn't even realise his identity for years!

also why is it always the woman's fucking fault if she gets pregnant? it takes two to tango! roy is as equally responsible for that pregnancy as jade is!

7. "AND THEN LEAVE YOUR KID" OH MY GOD.... [EXPLODES YOU WITH MY MIND] JADE. CANNOT. LEAVE. THE LEAGUE. BUT SHE DOES NOT WANT TO RAISE A FUCKINF CHILD THERE BECAUSE SHE KNOWS WHAT ITS LIKE!! SHES BEEN THAT KID!! jade knows fucking better then to delude herself into thinking she can raise lian safely while still stuck in her life, but lian is her number one priority always!! forever!! she pushes roy and lian away because she knows she is dangerous for them and because she thinks she doesnt deserve to have them and that love in her life!!!

8. "lian should be embarrassed to have her as her mum" i actually fucking wish nothing but hell upon you. have you not fucking read. just a single thing in ur life actually? just like actually can you read??? because i have met TODDLERS with better media literacy than you. LIAN HAS ISSUES WITH HER MOTHER. THIS WAS A BIG PART OF HER STINT AS SHOES. SHE IS DEALING WITH THE COMPLEXITIES OF LOVING HER MOTHER, THE WOMAN WHO LOVES HER AND CARES FOR HER, WHILE ALSO ACKNOWLEDGING THE FACT THAT SHE ISNT A GREAT MUM.

im sorry this is so messy and has so much shouting it actually has me fuming when people r so fucking stupid, idc if you dont like a character but dont just ignore all the bits of a characyer that make them redeemable or interesting to prop up ur male blorbos????

[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

[babextoken]

⋆˙⟡ —I am desperate to know—⟡˙⋆

Part 2 of Show Me What You Are (sub!vessel x f!reader) ⟡ wc: 4.5k

summary: change is scary. you and your enemy-turned-plaything, Vessel, come to terms with what it means to share your dirty little secret and let your relationship and feelings evolve.

CW: straight up porn with plot (18+ MDNI), hurt with lots of comfort, jealousy that gets resolved quickly and respectfully, "mommy," "puppy," "good boy"

a/n: reworked and expanded :) this was inspired by the wretched conversations I have with @wolftoken and @adenobabe, as well as @inv3ga's sinfully yummy lipgloss ii drabbles.

Ves: What we do is for us and us alone. You: just because they saw us doesn’t mean we can’t do this anymore. We just need to be more discreet. Ves: It’s fucking embarrassing.  You: I know it is. I’m embarrassed too Ves: you weren’t on your knees acting stupid and pathetic for just a crumb of attention. You: oh. A crumb? That’s what you call my affection?

Crickets. Fucking. Crickets. 

You were busy doing damage control over text—a fool’s errand. A week ago you found yourself at a party with Vessel. It was a surprise actually, but you held your tongue when you greeted him at first in front of everyone. The urge to talk down to him in that gentle domme cadence was strong, but your pride was stronger. You hadn’t seen each other in a month or so after several blissful weeks of seeing one another to turn your brains off. To pretend for a second that things weren’t so shitty that you resorted to sleeping with someone you disliked. 

After a few sneaky glances and texts, you beckoned him to follow you through the hallways of your friend’s house. In the empty den, you sat in the leather loveseat and asked him to sit by you…but he wanted to kneel. He had his arms wrapped around your bare calves, his face nuzzling your thighs, trying to push up your mini dress. As your hands lightly scratched his scalp, he moaned softly. You two couldn’t do anything sexual right now, but that didn’t stop the growing tension and arousal. “Look at you,” you whisper, “you’re an angel, aren’t you?” 

He hummed contently and gazed up at you. “Then you’re a goddess. Regardless of what I am…you’re my goddess…” He groaned, placing little kisses and bites on your thighs. Your hand tangled in his hair as his breath grew hot and heavy. “Ffffuck. Mommy, please. You’re wet for me, I can tell.”

You gently lifted his head and caressed his cheeks. “I know baby, I know. It’s been too long. Such a busy boy. Tsk. You’ve been working so hard, hm?”

“Mhm. I have. I’ve been so good, too.” 

The sweet little blush that covered his cheeks was irresistible. You wanted to kiss it right off of him. And you almost did before the light of the hallway assaulted your eyes as a mutual friend opened the lounge’s door. They excused themselves and shut the door softly. No harm done. Or so you thought. 

“Hey…it’s ok,” you said softly as Ves pushed away from you and sulked.

“You should leave first.” His face was red from anger and embarrassment now. The moment was gone as soon as it started. 

“What?”

“You go out there first. Save face for us both. You’re better at all that then me.”

You could feel the frown pulling at your mouth almost into a pout. “They left us alone, we don’t have to sto-“

You didn’t get to finish. Vessel stormed out of the lounge. And the house. Later, the friend who had seen you two was a little drunk, asking a bit too loudly if you two were a thing…which led to more friends coming up, mouth agape all “I thought you hated each other!” But your facade dropped the minute someone said, “you could do so much better than him.” Fuck them. Fuck this party. Fuck this house. 

And that’s how you found yourself trying to get Vessel to come over but instead you found yourself regressing. It was too easy to bicker. That last message he sent stung. You weren’t denying him anything and he had the audacity to say it was merely a crumb. It makes you wonder if he’s just embarrassed or if you’re not doing enough for him. Wait a minute…no no no. You weren’t going to let him get to you like this. He was barely a fuck buddy. A toy! Let him pout and think that allowing him to rub his face all over you is the bare minimum. That little shit. You’d show him. You could find anoth-*ding ding*

Ves: I’m sorry. I was just mad.  Ves: did that upset you? That I responded like an asshole? You: yeah it did. You can’t treat me like a stress ball and take it out on me. Ves: you’re right. I am really sorry  Ves: but…you’d be make a good little stress toy You: watch it, puppy Ves: make me 🐶

Ok. That does it. You get to his place way too quickly, but you don’t care if you look eager. He answers the door with a playful scowl. “Ugh,” he exaggerates. “Come to put me in my place?”

You walk in and let your eyes graze up and over him. Those slutty sweatpants and his black tight muscle tank. You could just swallow him up. “Oh, shut up, Ves. You practically told me to come over.” You step to him and gaze up…waiting. “No hug?”

He sighs and rolls his eyes. “Fine.” 

There’s that awkward “hug-it-out” embrace again. You try to get him to hug you back as you curl into him, but he’s a bit limp. “Do you want me here or not,” you ask, sighing and feeling dejected. 

Vessel rolls his eyes and tries to pop his neck. “Obviously I want you here. Just…do whatever. You have my consent.”

You pull away from the hug and look up at him with some concern. “You’re really fucked up about this, aren’t you?”

Vessel looks away and rubs the back of his neck. “Put yourself in my position. This whole time I’ve known you,” he steps closer to you, his jaw clenched, “I have made an effort to not get close. To learn to dislike you. And people noticed and I liked that. Helped me feel like I could keep from getting too close.  And now, perhaps I’ve gotten soft. Folded…whipped…all those weeks ago when I asked you to do this fucked up thing with me. But now someone has seen it. Someone saw me clinging to you.”

You have a hard time keeping his gaze. You feel a little nervous because he is genuinely upset. Maybe you were the one not taking this as seriously.  “Ves…I…I get it now. Ok? I do.” How easy it would be to lay into him. To tell him he’s stuck up his own ass about this, but…that’s not so much your nature with him anymore. “But remember…it wasn’t just you who was caught. I was right there with you.” You caress his cheek, and he instantly rests his face in your palm. “I’m not doing anything to you. And…you’re not forcing me into this. And I’m sorry it happened. We had no idea. So you’re right…when you were texting me. What we do is for us.” You look down and have a silly thought. “Do you think you’d be as embarrassed if they found as fucking?”

He pauses for a moment and considers your question. He takes a deep breath. “No. That would be easier to explain even if we hate each other. People just..heh…they hate-fuck, right?”

You smile a bit shyly. AGAIN with that chuckle. You are so taken with this weirdo. “Do you still hate me?”

He takes a heavy breath. The silence and tension is so thick, but not uncomfortable. It’s needed. You both need to choose your words correctly or else someone will get offended. Or feel awkward. “Not even close.” 

You and Vessel lean in instinctively and meet each other in a soft, deep kiss. This kiss is different but there’s no time to think about it. He’s already pulling you to his couch where he sits you down. It’s a reenactment of the other night. You with your thighs just barely grazing each other, and Vessel sitting before you on the ground. “May I get between your legs,” he asks softly as he rubs his face against your knee. Without a word, you part your legs for him. That’s nothing new. But you also don’t make a show of it. No “ooh thank you for asking…such a polite boy.” No cheek pinches. Just granting him heaven. “Thank you,” he whispers as he nuzzles into your inner thigh. Soft lips part and trail up your skin as he relishes in this moment. Finally turning his brain off. He’d never tell you how much he had missed you since the last time you properly got together. How he ached whenever he tried to think of someone or something else while he got off. How he even felt the urge to text you when he saw or heard something that reminded him of you. But there were boundaries. Only texting to plan a hook-up or to play long distance. So now that he had his mouth and hands on your soft thighs, he felt at peace. Much softer than he had in awhile. Safe. You wouldn’t be mean. You two wouldn’t fight. He moans softly as your hand goes into his hair to gently scratch his scalp. 

You’re caught off guard when he buries his face in your right thigh and chuckles softly. “What is it, angel?”

He chuckles and blushes again, leaving a little bite as he pulls away. “This is my happy place.”

“Between my legs or…”

His hazy, dreamy expression tells you everything you need to know. He’s drifting between sub-space and being absolutely lovesick. You feel his knuckles gently nudge against your clothed heat. Vessel whimpers softly. A plea. He wants to be good and ask permission first, but damn it he wants to just feel you whenever he wants. All it takes is a nod from you to encourage him to remove your shorts. He bites his lip and groans as he exposes your pussy. “Hmm,” he says with a little laugh, “I’m being blessed.”

You laugh and blush a little, letting out little moans as he trails your wetness up and down your slit. “Mmm, good boy… is that how you feel? Blessed?” You brush his hair out of his eyes as you continue, gasping softly as he kisses your pubic mound. “An angel at the foot of his goddess? Lost lamb finally found in the pasture?”

His lips ghost up your clit and make your whole body shudder. “Perhaps a wolf in sheep’s clothing.” You’re pulled down roughly as he makes out with your clit, groaning softly as it throbs against his pursed lips. You can’t even find your voice…the room is filled with ragged breaths and gasps. You sound almost terrified, and maybe you are. Terrified of how hard you’ll cum and how overstimulated you’ll be. Terrified that the hungry look in his eyes isn’t just for your orgasm, but everything you could give him. For a moment you become aware that he’s probably so hard he can barely see or think straight. You gently pull him up by his shirt collar and lick his lips. Of course, that leads to a kiss, which leads to his question going unanswered for a moment. The taste of you mixed with him…just everything about him, makes your head spin. You’re losing control of the situation. You look up at him with your mouth slightly agape…you know you look like a slut. And he thinks so too.  Ves stands up, leaning his left hand against the back of the couch. You can see his hard-on straining against his underwear and joggers.

“Let me see, angel,” you whisper. He grins shyly and slips out of his lower garments. Fuck you missed that cock. You place your hand out, palm up, and he immediately mimes you, putting his right hand on yours. “Good boy.” He groans with pleasure as you let a string of spit pool in his palm. He knows what to do. 

As Vessel strokes his cock, you bite your lip and feel your eyes roll back. He’s watching you…drinking you in and loving every second of it. “Lift your shirt, babe.”

No one bats an eye when he calls you “babe.” You simply do as you’ve been told. He gasps softly, finally seeing your tits in the flesh after too long. He needs them in his hands, in his face. The way he looks at you makes you feel divine…like the goddess he says you are. He nods and sucks in his lower lip as your fingers circle your clit. His speed picks up with yours…you were already close when before he stopped eating you out but you didn’t realize he was so close just from tasting you. “Are you close?”

Vessel groans and nods. “Cuz of you…Such a fucking goddess…”

“Stop, stop, stop,” you choke out. 

He complies, resting both hands on the back of the couch. His eyes shine and his precious grin makes your heart race. You’re edging him, and he fucking loves it. He missed this. He missed you. This happens two more times before he becomes a shuddering mess. “Mommy…please…not…going to be able to stand much more.”

“Switch places with me, puppy.” As he helps you up and sits on his couch, he gives your ass a reverent squeeze. You chuckle as you lower yourself on his cock. “You’re so sexed up and brainless right now, aren’t you?”

“How could you tell,” he jokes even though his voice is weak. This feels so natural. He rubs the head of his cock against your slit, whimpering and whining as he bites his lip. “Let me in…please. May I?”

“You need it, don’t you?”

“More than fucking air. You’re my goddess…aren’t you? You’ll provide for me…I know you will…you’re so good to me…ffffffuuuckkk.” 

Oh his sweet little whines. You lower yourself on him and bottom out as he’s talking and being so submissive. So needy for you as your hips grind against him. “Such a good boy…you take my pussy so well…you were made to fuck me, weren’t you?”

Ves nods grabs your hand, placing it on his neck. His wide hand dwarves your wrist but he’s completely at your mercy, letting his touch drift up and down your forearm. “Mmm ffuuuccckkk please please…just..squeeze a little.”

“Ves, I don’t want to hurt you,” you whisper. How many times have you thought about throttling him? Now you just want to baby him. Your hand flexes a little, and he nods, encouraging you to sustain that pressure. 

“Relax, babe, you’re doing..sssoooo good. I like it. I like it a lot….love it…I…fucking…I fucking love you. I love you so fucking much.”

Something snaps in your mind. Record scratch. You stop fucking him get in his face to hold his jaw, but he’s not scared. He’s giggling. He’s giddy and euphoric. “Say that again, puppy.”

He leans forward and grabs your ass…hard. “I said…I fucking love you.” You stare at each other for a bit. Wild eyed. The realization hitting you both. Your hand drops from his neck to pull off his shirt, but he’s beat you to it. You take off yours instead and let his hands smooth over your sides and back. “Seriously. I mean it.” He looks at you like he needs your guidance. Your gentle hand. “Say it back?”

You hold his face, suddenly feeling as fuzzy and lovesick as Vessel looks you dead in the eyes. “Yeah. Yeah…I love you, angel.” 

“Come here…” He cradles you close and raises his hips to fuck into you. You pant and moan against his neck. “Do you like this, mommy?” You kiss and suck at his neck, unable to speak except little whines. Nothing needs to be said. You’re not even chasing an orgasm at this point. This is merely for pleasure and whatever else comes. “Can I cum for you? Please,” Ves whispers.

You nod dumbly and hold onto him as you gush around his girth. He holds your hips still and finishes with a strangled moan. You both grind against each other, extending each other's climax. Vessel clearly can’t handle fucking you anymore, but you don’t stop. Eventually he buries his face in your chest, letting out a loud, pathetic moan. Your chest is wet from his tears. You stop and pull his head back to look at him. 

“Ves?”

“I’m ok,” he sniffles. “That was a lot,” he says with a little laugh and sniffle. “You’re a lot.” 

You wipe his tears and smile softly. He’s crying from overstimulation, you know that, but you still feel bad. You both lean in. You’ve never kissed after sex. Even during the aftercare. But like you reminded yourself months ago, there would be a lot of firsts with Vessel. Maybe some awkward ones. But that kiss wasn’t awkward. And neither was the first time you said you loved each other when you weren’t having sex. Or your first actual date. Or the first time a friend saw you two together and said, “I didn’t know you two liked each other.” Vessel just smiled, squeezed you into his side and said, “I think it’s a little more than that.” But what was awkward was figuring out how to act. Sure you were reverse engineering it. Enemies to enemies with benefits to lovers to friends-who-were-also-lovers. What could go wrong in the coming months?

A lot actually, especially when you’re at a friend’s housewarming party on a Friday night that could have been spent watching TV and not wearing pants. But Vessel huffed in the corner. Why were you still talking to that guy? Who was this guy? Chad? His is name was probably Chad. Vessel knows you love him but the way you laugh when this man says something makes Ves’s blood boil. He’s never heard that laugh before. How come he’s never made you laugh like that? But his ears perk up when he hears you say his name. You’re actually calling him over. God he wants to still be fussy because you’re talking to what’s-his-name but you’re smiling, and you look so pretty in your skinny jeans and cropped sweater that maybe he can overlook all this. You do a little grabby hand in his direction, and he cannot resist that. But even when he slots beside you in your embrace, he still feels a little uneasy. He computes that you’re telling this guy about Ves and his work and gushing over him, but he feels like he’s outside his body. You two had finally gotten over yourselves adequately to be more than your dynamic but he still worried you had lingering resentment. He hoped you hadn’t. He didn’t feel that way about you. But he couldn’t help but feel self-conscious and stupid about the whole evening. 

“Hey, talk to me,” you say later in the drive back to his, reaching over to caress the side of his head. “Those wheels are turning.”

Vessel shakes his head “no,” and keeps his eyes on the road. “I’m alright, babe.”

“Ves.”

As he pulls into the driveway he lets out a deep breath. Jealousy was something he never liked to fuel, but you bring out something in him. And he knew he needed to work on it. Like that time before you two started dating when he interrupted you talking to that guy at the metal bar. Yeah sure it all worked out in his favor eventually but it didn’t feel good. He should really just say something. Anything. Rip the bandage off. “Seemed like you fancied him.”

You let out a scoff mixed with a laugh. “Are you kidding?” He can’t meet your gaze. His fingers delicately trace the stitching of the steering wheel cover as he weighs his words. 

“Never heard you laugh like that.” He shrugs. “Seemed like he was doing something right.”

“And did you like how that laugh sounded?”

Vessel’s cheeks turn pink, but not like you could see that in the dark. He knows he’s in the wrong but his ego is still bruised. “I always like the sound of your laugh. What kind of question is that?” Uh oh. He feels your eyes pierce through him. 

“That was a fake laugh. I hate that guy. He’s an old coworker but I have to play nice. I called you over because I missed you and needed you.” You look straight ahead and sigh heavily. “It’s still hard to admit…but you’re…my person. I like keeping you close.” 

There’s a long pause. Ves clears his throat and rubs his hand over his face. “I…sorry. It was very convincing, your little…‘act.’ I shouldn’t have…yeah…yeah I’m sorry. I’m still…learning to let myself be loved. You know?”

You take your seatbelt off and lean over the middle console to kiss his cheek. His face warms again as your lips touch his skin and he leans into you. “Ves,” you whisper, “baby, he’s got nothing on you. Ok? And you know I’m still learning too.”

“Hmmm.” 

“Don’t believe me?” 

Ves chuckles and shakes his head. “Just in my head, gorgeous. Don’t worry about it.”

As you get ready for bed you notice he’s quieter than usual. You almost wondered if you should just go home for the night, but if Vessel was really as down as he seemed…it would be cruel to leave him alone tonight. He’s sitting on the bed with his back against the headboard, long legs crossed at the ankle. Without saying anything, you straddle his lap, and in an instant his face changes. Gone is the sullen little boy…he’s been replaced with your eager, reverent puppy. He doesn’t touch you immediately—he doesn’t know if he’s allowed. But god he wants to. You look perfect. He notices you hadn’t washed off your make up yet, and, even more exciting, you only had on your boyshorts. 

“What’s in your hand, mommy? Cheeky thing.”

You give a coy grin and hold your hand out. Lipstick. He remembered you debated on wearing it tonight…he said you should. It would look sexy. But you decided not to in the end. Ves wondered what you were up to now. His eyes rolled back and closed as you cupped his face with your free hand and whispered to him. “Well…” your hand trails down his bare chest, “it seems I need to remind you who my puppy-boy is.” 

Vessel is intrigued but grimaces. “Going to write something obscene on me?”

“On the contrary.” You open the lipstick and start applying it. And really well without a mirror. Ves raises an eyebrow, getting ready to ask if you want a mirror or something, but you stop him cold by placing a long, tender kiss on his left cheek. You lean back and look at your handiwork, turning his face to admire the fresh lip print on him. “Mm that looks so pretty on you, good boy.” With his chin still in your grasp you kiss his cheek again, but a bit harder. He responds with little giggles and starts squirming the more you kiss. “You’re being so good not trying to touch me, puppy,  but you have to sit still for me.” You apply more lipstick and turn his face to kiss the other cheek. “Does it feel good?”

“Mmmph…” Even though you were basically naked on his lap, Ves felt more safe and comfy than anything when you first started kissing him. But now that he has at least 5 kiss marks on both cheeks, he was getting worked up. He crossed his arms tightly over his chest, feeling his boxer briefs stretch with his growing cock. “It feels…really…really good, mommy.” 

This continues until his face and neck are adorned with the memories of your kisses in burgundy. He’s panting when you finally stop, his knuckles white from wanting to feel you or to stroke his throbbing cock. His mind is blank and fuzzy as he focuses on the smudged lipstick on your own pretty mouth. Vessel loved kissing, although he could have gone either way before you two started playing. Now he lived for it. On the days he didn’t see you, he found himself mindlessly touching his own lips. Caressing them. Gently tugging at them. He needed you now. But you were currently pulling him to the edge of the bed and facing his mirror. 

“Ok, puppy. Look in the mirror. Do you see that?”

Goddamn it he was horny out of his mind like you have laced your lipstick with some kind of aphrodisiac, but it was all just the sweet affection that pushed him to this point. “Y-y-yeah.”

“Who’s my good boy?” You whisper, looking at him in the mirror. He points at himself a bit dumbly, blushing from feeling good but also humiliation. He knew he didn’t need to get jealous of that guy earlier…but fuck it felt good to reduced to a hard, whiny mess for you. He turns to look back at you with watery puppy eyes. 

“I’m yours. I’m your good boy, mommy…and…fuck…fuck I need you.”

It wouldn’t be right to say Vessel was putty in your hands. He was deep, deep in his subspace but he was present and very much an active participant. He knew he’d be praised for moving your hand where he wanted it or for not holding back his moans and whimpers. Tonight you’re telling him how pretty he looks with your lipstick all over him. That he’s all yours. Vessel’s eyes are glued to the reflection in the mirror of you holding him by the neck and cock as. “Do you think anyone else could be such a perfect little slutty boy for me? Hm?” 

—

The next morning you’re both in the shower. Groggy. Kissy. Giggly. Vessel keeps washing his face trying to get the lipstick marks off of him, and you do your best to help…well. 

“Hey at least it’s the weekend. No one has to see you…just me.”

“Shut up,” he says with a dry laugh. “Moral support isn’t helpful. Is it off or not?”

“Yes! For the 1,000th time, V.” After you lean over to turn off the water, he pulls you toward him and kisses you gently…so, so gently. Despite being wet and warm from the shower, it gives you goosebumps. When you pull away, he’s not looking at you with lust. It’s love. Warmth. Being in his good graces is still weird.

“I love you.” The way your name falls from his lips makes you actually want to hear your name. You almost can’t respond.

“I love you, too.”  You look down, suddenly feeling very shy. He holds your face in his soft, wide hands and makes you look back up at him. This feels like a high school crush.

“Such a little doll. Aren’t you? Hm?”

“Ves…” you blush and try to look away but he pulls you into his chest. 

“Why’ve you gone shy on me?” It was a rhetorical question. For the first time, Vessel felt empowered to push a little. To see if maybe you could be shy…and maybe a little pathetic. Was his goddess capable of letting go for him? Just for a bit? And not like when you two are just having plain, lovey, vanilla sex. Not like when you’re sitting on the couch and chaste kissing turns into him fucking you gently as whatever shit movie you had on plays in the background. No. He has something more specific in mind. Could he help you go a bit deeper? Because you were making him feel something. Something he never thought he could. Something he never felt worthy of feeling. He felt dominant.

[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.