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#<- IT COUNTS!!!! HE NEEDS HIS CAREGIVER HE NEEDS SOMEONE TO HELP TAKE CARE OF HIM!!!
martyrbat · 10 months
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legends of the dark knight (2021) #6
[ID: Bruce Wayne entering Wayne Manor by his cave entrance. He's in his Batman costume and, frankly, looks like shit. He has a fresh, gaping bullet wound in his shoulder, he has blood around his mouth and is dripping from rain (and possibly sweat). His costume is battered and torn, exposing his cut and bloodied legs. He's bracing himself against the doorframe as Alfred cries out, “My word, Master Bruce! What have you done to yourself?!”
He rushes to support Bruce's weight, his arm wrapped around his back as he leads him down the corridor and away from the platter and cup of tea he was going to bring him—which is shattered on the ground because he dropped it in shock. Alfred repeats, “What have you done?” Bruce weakly and insufferably responds, “You... should see... the other guy...” Alfred responds, “Sir, the essence of comedy, is timing.” END ID]
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babyjakes · 8 months
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mess of a lesson.
〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉
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event | august '23 general requests blurb night
summary | you refused to go before you left, and now you must pay the price.
pairing | soft!dark!daddies!jake jensen and ari levinson x little!reader
warnings | ddlg (two daddies!!!!). uhh, jakey and ari are definitely MAKING her piss/cum so,, dark/non/dubcon perhaps. holding down/restraining. fingering. clit play. anal play/fingering. forced orgasm. squirting+++. watersports: forced wetting (DUH!!!!). so much mocking/degradation holy shit. petnames. praise.
word count | 1,090
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dedication | this fic is dedicated to my angel my bby my sweetie pie ms. @brandycranby, ily my fellow piss enthusiast <33
an | absolutely no one asked for this but. here are my favorite soft daddies acting out my deepest darkest fantasy with sweet little reader, i have been dying to write this smutty trio for soooo long (this is a similar matchup/dynamic to daddy!ari, caregiver!jakey, and wren in egem) and at this point fuck it, here you all go. hope this'll help you understand why i'm down so fucking bad for these guys.
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"No Daddy— please!" You can't tell who your words are directed at as you writhe weakly against Ari's strong set of arms as they hold you firmly with your back against his chest. As much as you struggle, there's no getting out for you as he restrains you on his lap.
"Easy, baby. Don't make this harder than it needs to be," the brown-haired man hums, managing to hold you securely against him with just a single arm wrapped around your waist. "Quit fighting us, honey. C'mon, be a good girl."
"Oh sweetie," your other daddy murmurs as he sits in front of you. Jake's expression is much softer than his partner's, his gaze full of concern and sympathy as he reaches out and strokes your cheek. "Don't cry, pretty girl. We're gonna take such good care of you, right Ari?" he checks in with the larger man who's guiding your legs apart, holding them open with his own.
"Nooo!" you whine as your flimsy little tennis skirt is flipped up and out of the way. Jake takes a gentle hand and runs his fingers up and down your clothed pussy, nodding expectingly as a dark wet patch soon appears.
"Our poor little baby, she knows what's coming," Ari murmurs against your ear as he reaches his free hand down to join Jake's. "Seems like she's getting excited, Jake. What do you think?"
"Think you must be right," Jake agrees as he reaches down, effortlessly ripping the thin strip of fabric covering your burning heat in half. "There," he coos, using both hands to spread you out nice and wide. "Go ahead," he nods to Ari, "let's help our little girl go potty, hmm? Since she can't seem to know when she needs to, herself."
Ari lets out a low, grumbly hum in agreement as his expert fingers find your pool of juices, dragging up some of your slick to hone in on your little bundle of nerves. "There," he smiles as you jerk against both of the men's ministrations. "Keep holding her open for me, Jake. Just like that, shouldn't be long..."
The tips of his fingers burn against your throbbing button as big tears roll down your cheeks. "Don't cry, sweetheart. You asked for this, remember? How many times did we ask if you had to go before we left?" the sterner man demands. Jake watches with his brow raised, thankful that Ari is willing to be firm with you when needed.
"A-... a-... a-a lot, Daddy," you stammer apologetically.
"Mhmm," Ari nods as Jake repositions his hands, giving the man behind you the best possible access to your aching clit, and the best possible view of your soaking cunt to himself. "And only ten minutes into the drive, we had to turn right back around, because someone started crying about having to go potty. Is that right, angel?" he continues his cruel lecturing. You nod, groaning and whimpering as a familiar tightness begins building somewhere deep in your core. "So this is what you get, princess. You know the rules. Naughty little girls who don't go potty when they're supposed to need to be punished."
"That's right," Jake coos regretfully as he shifts to hold the hood of your clit back with one hand, using the other to gently begin prodding at your tiny rosebud as your wetness drips down between your spread cheeks. "This is just to help you learn, sweet thing. Now, are you gonna be a good girl for us, hm? Be a good girl for your daddies, give them what they want?"
"I don't think she has much of a choice," Ari chuckles as he feels your breaths deepening against him. "Look at her, poor little thing. Her tummy's so full, I bet if we just..." You let out a startled squeak as he moves his arm down to press his muscular forearm right against your aching bladder.
"Nooo Daddy! Please, s-stop!" you howl, but Ari only kisses the side of your head as he rubs your clit in faster, tighter circles, watching over your shoulder as Jake presses a single finger into your tight little bottom.
"C'mon cutie, don't fight us," Jake smiles reassuringly as he gently works his digit against your sensitive inner walls, the burning sensation the movement creates nearly unbearable. "Be good and cum for your daddies. What do you think, Ari? Looks like she's almost there."
"Just a little more, right there," Ari sings as he rolls your hardened clit between his fingers, his sadistic grin growing as he sees you nearing the end of your rope. "There it is. Now cum for us, little girl," his voice darkens. At his words, you snap, your back arching off of Ari's chest as you're forced to release against the cruel hands of your torturers. "There you go, baby. Keep cumming. Fuck, this bitch is really making a mess," he laughs.
"There, that's it," Jake croons after him, both of the men completely mesmerized by the sight of you pissing yourself and orgasming at the same time. "Poor baby girl, was holding in sooo much in that sweet little tummy of hers. It just keeps coming and coming, huh?"
"Sure does," Ari agrees as your contractions finally begin to die down, leaving you a whimpering, breathless mess as you lie limply against your daddy out of pure exhaustion. Once the last of the spasming ceases, Ari brings his hand up to brush your hair back from your face, loosening his arm around you to take pressure off your emptied bladder. "Good girl," he soothes, kissing you again against your temple.
You wince as Jake removes his finger from you, using his other hand to reach up and rub your poor little tummy under your shirt. "Easy, cutie. You're okay; you did it, sweetie! You were so good, such a good girl for your daddies."
"Such a brave girl," Ari agrees, sharing a smile and loving glance with Jake. "She's getting better at it each time. Less fighting and tears, she knows what's best. Don't you, baby?" You nod obediently, earning a pleased hum of approval from both of the men.
"Now let's go get you cleaned off, huh sweetheart?" Jake suggests as Ari slowly helps you to your feet. Your legs tremble beneath you as you look down at the puddle on the floor. "Don't worry about that, baby. We'll get it cleaned up. I think your clothes might need a run in the wash, though. What do you say?"
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tatumrileyslover · 4 months
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Please Take Me Anywhere But Home
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⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ Sejanus Plinth Headcannons ˚୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅
Pairing: Sejanus Plinth x Capital!Reader
Word Count: 1k
Warnings: nothing really it’s just fluffy, lil bit of self doubt from Sejanus, wintertime, small mention of the war :P
A/N: this is a small apology for pt2 of Capital Don’t Cry taking so long, this is kinda inspired by take me anywhere but home by Seulgi (my love) you’ll all need some cute Sejanus fluff before the angst of the next part (also none of this is proofread)
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ೀ Sejanus is actually the sweetest boyfriend ever
ೀ is 100% a caregiver
ೀ you feel slightly ill he's making sure you're tucked up in bed and Ma will send an entire basket of homemade pastries
ೀ he's definitely a neat freak
ೀ if you hurt yourself in anyway at all, he has something for it
ೀ your stomach hurts, he has painkillers
ೀ you cut yourself, he has bandages
ೀ you have a killer migraine, he somehow has some morphling to help ease the pain.
ೀ and he tops it all off with a forehead kiss
ೀ definitely a paranoid type
ೀ knows you would cheat on him ever, but the second he sees you talking to someone else, he's immediately insecure
ೀ I think he feels he's not good enough for you
ೀ a successful Capital citizen, your family is very powerful, you already had your foot in some of the business your family owned.
ೀ he was just him, no matter how hard he tried, he'd never be seen as Capital, he was the black sheep of his family and the black sheep in the Academy
ೀ you never cared about his background
ೀ at the Academy he was the only person you met who wasn't self-centred and vain and that was really fucking attractive
ೀ probably thought you were only trying to be his friend because of a friend or something
ೀ definitely a bit cautious of you at first but that man is head over heels in no time
ೀ definitely the type to buy you flowers and a teddy bear
ೀ let's be honest you probably have a collection of teddy bears from every date you've ever been on
ೀ definitely love physical touch
ೀ always walking round hand in hand
ೀ loves walking you from class to class, just the feeling of your small hand in his makes his heart soar
ೀ he's also big on forehead kisses
ೀ he's definitely embarrassed of his Ma the first time you meet
ೀ she's pulling out the photo albums, all Sejanus's baby pictures on display
ೀ he genuinely wants the world to swallow him whole in that moment
ೀ assumes (incorrectly) that you'll see him as inferior, since you're seeing photos of him when he was in the district
ೀ it honestly makes you fall in love with him more, getting to see him in his childhood home
ೀ that night he walks you back to your apartment, snow falling, walking hand in hand
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The Capital look beautiful at this time of year, arguably more than usual with Sejanus by your side. The cold breeze that left the tip of your nose red to the plush scarf Sejanus insisted you wear on your walk back to your apartment. The snow crunched beneath your feet, bring back memories of your childhood. Innocent memories of winters past spent making angels in the snow and the bleak, grim wintertime during the war. Although the snow brought unpleasant memories, it also brought you him.
His soft black hair had begun to turn white, sprinkled with powdery flakes. His Ma insisted he wear a woollen hat but he tore it off the second he was out of her sight. You could tell he was a bit embarrassed all night, she immediately took you in as if you were family, showing you all the family photos, including ones of him as a child.
He looked so cute, seeing him back in his home back in District Two. His Ma told stories of their town and flaunted photos of the picturesque mountains they lived near. Ma Plinth was proud of her home, and you could tell she missed it dearly. You wished you had the same type of bond with your home like she did but the Capital wasn't a place to be proud of. You felt like a songbird stuck in a cage, only to be ogled at. You wanted to be free, that's what drew you to Sejanus in the first place, he was a breath of fresh air. Lost in thought, you slowed down a bit.
"Are you alright?" Sejanus looked a bit concerned, he was convinced that his Ma's sales pitch of District Two had completely turned you off. He was almost certain that you'd never speak to him again after tonight. You turned you head to him happily humming examining his red cheeks.
"I was thinking..." Sejanus froze in his tracks, turning to face you, fearing the worst. His heart melted when he heard what came out of your mouth.
"After we graduate from the Academy, if you'd like to take a trip to Two, you could show me around the place, I'd love to learn more about where you grew up,"
"You want to visit District Two?" Sejanus was shocked, thinking the idea of visiting the districts would never cross your mind.
"Well, your Ma made one hell of a sales pitch, it sounds like the most beautiful place," you're soft hands pushed some hair out of his eyes, resting softly on his cheek, "you don't talk about it often and I know how important it is to you, I want to learn more about your life before you came here," Sejanus's hand covered your own, he looked at you in awe, he couldn't have dreamt up a better partner.
"Are you sure you want to?" You smiled brightly, nodding while pulling him closer to you. It was like a scene out of a movie, the snowflakes continued to fall in clusters across the quiet streets of the Capital, the entire city fell silent. His brown eyes bore into your soul, his hands tenderly cradled the back of your neck, pulling you in swiftly to unite your lips. He couldn't help but smile throughout the kiss, happiness radiating within him. He pulls back gently, his hand resting on your cheek, carefully examining your face.
"I'd go anywhere with you, just take me anywhere but home."
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angelbaby-fics · 1 year
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Daddy's Baby Day
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Pairing: Cg!Bucky x Little!Reader x Flip!Steve
Word Count: 820
A/N: It ain't much but its honest work! No really, it feels really good to finish something again!! I was sort of unsure about writing one of my cg characters as little for the first time & I'm still not totally sure if I'm very good at it but I just thought this idea was so cute & my little 40s boys have been heavy on my mind lately 😌💕 Enjoy! And I love you guys!!! 💕💕
You and Bucky were sitting on the floor, building castles with your wooden blocks, when you both heard the front door slam. The bang of the door into its frame sent your tower tumbling to the floor, but you only giggled at the chaos. You were in a good mood that day; Steve, however, was not.
Steve immediately stormed into his and Bucky’s bedroom, slamming that door as well. You looked up at Buck with worry in your eyes, but his comforting smile let you know he’d make sure everything was okay. Bucky got up and knocked on the bedroom door, while you remained on the floor, monitoring the situation from a distance. When the door opened slightly and Bucky slid in, you inched closer to try and hear the conversation from behind the now again closed door. You couldn’t hear very well, but from what you could gather, Steve had once again been underestimated for his stature, and he came home feeling dejected and insecure, like he did on far too many days.
You knew how he felt. Being little, many people often assumed you couldn’t do things for yourself, that you always needed help. You didn’t really mind, though, you liked being helped out, especially by your daddies. But Steve wasn’t little, he was a caregiver, so instead of feeling comfy and calm when someone tried to assist him without asking first, it made him feel helpless and small.
‘That’s it!’ you realized.
Maybe being small is exactly what Steve needed. He spent so much of his time working hard to prove himself, denying help and pushing himself just for the sake of others. That’s how you’d felt before finding yourself in the care of Steve and Bucky, so maybe that’s what Steve really needed; not help, but care.
Confident in your reasoning, you got up from the floor and set off on a mission. In your bedroom, you had a little basket of all sorts of pacifiers, as your daddies liked to spoil you. You grabbed one, a blue one with stars that you thought Steve would like, as well as one of the soft blankets from your bed, and made your way to your daddies’ room. You could still hear them talking as you approached, the stress obvious in Steve’s voice as Bucky tried to calm him down. You knocked softly, but they couldn’t hear you, so you quietly let yourself in. The tension in the room immediately dissipated as soon as Steve and Bucky saw you enter.
“Hiya, angel,” Steve said, exhaustion radiating from him. Despite this, he still held his arms out for you, never letting his caregiver persona falter in front of you. For now.
You reached up with the pacifier, attempting to put it in Steve’s mouth for him.
“What’s this, baby?” Steve asked, subtly dodging the pacifier and taking it in his hand instead.
“Paci makes me feel better. Maybe it helps daddy feel better too?” You responded.
“Aw, thank you sweetie, but daddy isn’t a baby like you.” Steve said with a hint of sadness in his voice.
“Well… maybe daddy can be a baby if you want to. Daddy can have a baby day, too.”
“Daddy can’t be a baby, he’s gotta take care of you, huh?” Steve chuckled, mussing up your hair.
“That's what Baba’s for! Baba takes care of baby AND daddy-baby! Right Baba?” You asked, pleading eyes staring holes right through Bucky’s heart. And to his surprise, Steve was looking at him just the same way.
Bucky started internally kicking himself. How many times had Steve secretly needed this and didn’t have the courage to ask? How many times had Steve been on the verge of regression himself, but never gave himself the permission? The love Bucky felt for you was the same love he felt for Steve; the most important thing to him was knowing that the both of you felt that love.
“Of course, my little loves!” Bucky replied, placing a hand on each of yours and Steve’s cheeks.
You could see Steve smile softly as he let himself relax, even just a fraction. Regression was new for him, despite having these feelings in the back of his mind, he’d never let himself entertain them. Steve quickly realized he felt lost, the combination of being little and being inexperienced in this littleness setting in at the same time, both of them building on each other. Steve’s smile dropped, and his cheeks flushed bright red.
“I-I don’t know how…” He whispered, his voice shaking, not nearly as strong and confident as it usually was.
“That’s okay, Stevie, I teach you!” You exclaimed, and Steve perked up at your little nickname for him.
“Okay.” He said, and you took that as a sign to wrap your cozy blanket around his shoulders. Immediately, the tension evacuated his body, as Steve let himself feel cared for for the first very time.
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nicksbestie · 2 months
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Hi! So I have a request for feminine reader “coming out” to Johnnie as an age regressor and he just comforts her and cares for her <3 Really fluffy and sweet pls!
Hope you’re doing well 🖤
thank you so much for the request!! i hope you're also doing well <3 this is written in the third person, but the feminine character isn't named! it made it easier for me to write, i hope you enjoy! <3
Discovery
word count : 4091
warnings : mentions of anxiety and trauma , but no details <3
pairing : johnnie guilbert/reader (romantic)
<3
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Johnnie liked to think that he was a good boyfriend, someone that people could trust, could tell anything. He wanted to believe that out of all people, his girlfriend trusted him enough to come to him when she wanted, or needed something. He knew he loved her, and he knew she loved him, but he still had concerns. Like the small, well, it was actually quite big, secret of hers that he’d just discovered. 
He hadn’t been snooping, no. He wouldn’t intentionally do that. However, he had noticed that one of his hoodies had mysteriously disappeared, and had simply been looking for it. He had checked her closet, and had seen it curled up in one of the corners, seemingly pushed as far back as it could be. It didn’t alarm him that it was there, sometimes things fall off of hangers and get nudged up under stuff. What alarmed him, well, alarmed may not be the best word, but it was the only thing he could come up with at the time, was the pile of items that were now visible when he lifted the soft gray sweatshirt off of the floor. 
Baby things? A pacifier, a few stuffed animals, a bottle, and some rattles and teethers?
Confused, would probably be the best word for the situation. His first thought was that she was pregnant, and just hadn’t told him yet, maybe hoping for it to be a surprise. That idea, however, was thrown out when he noticed the size difference of the pacifier in his hand, and a second one on the floor that he hadn’t seen at first. He picked up the other one, and realized one was specifically made for adults. He remembered a fanfiction he’d stumbled across a while back, trying to recall the name of what it had been about.
Age regression. 
So now he knew a name to possibly explain this, but he had no idea what it was really about, so he turned to the internet for help. The first definition to pop up was one from Urban Dictionary, and with lack of experience, figuring anything could help, he clicked the link. 
“Age regression is when somebody reverts to a child-like state of mind, often as a coping mechanism for things like PTSD, depression, anxiety, and other mental health issues. Basically age regressors are more at-peace and worry-free whilst in "littlespace" (A term for when one is in said mindset). These people simply need breaks from the stress of being old and often have a childish personality even outside of regression (Though sometimes it's not as obvious). Contrary to popular belief, age regression is NOT a kink or even related to sexual intercourse whatsoever. Some age regressors refer to themselves as littles and to their significant other as "Daddy", "Mommy", or just as their "Caregiver" Since they'd typically take care of their "Little" as if they're an actual child.”
So his girlfriend was an age regressor. He didn’t feel any kind of disgust, or any type of negative emotion. Except sadness. Continuing to read the description, he realized that age regressors, or, “littles”, needed a caregiver to take care of them, and by the sight of all of her stuff pushed into a dark corner he had a pretty good idea that she didn’t have one. And that broke his heart, that his girl had thought he wouldn’t be open to taking care of her, even in a way that isn’t as common as usual. He deeply hoped that she didn’t feel scared of talking to him, like he would ever judge her or belittle her for something that helped her feel better.
He knew she’d dealt with a lot of trauma in her short life, problems starting at home and feeding into her adult life. She’d told him when they first began officially dating that she was terrified of having an angry man in a house with her, as her strained relationship with family did not help in the slightest. He had held her while she talked, tears had been shed, kisses on her forehead had been placed. It had been an emotional night, and the more he thought about it, the more childlike she had seemed by the end of it. There was no verbal change, but she had clung to him and not said much until she’d finally fallen asleep against him.
He slowly put more pieces together in his head. The cut up food, small snacks, juice boxes that she had claimed “were just easier to drink out of”, the multiple stuffed animals littering their shared bed, the comfort blanket that was always referred to as her “blankie”, no matter what. He smiled as he thought about the way that she had always stayed close to his side in public, clutching his hand tighter to signal that she was nervous. The way she had always relaxed into his side when he wrapped an arm around her, gently rubbing hers, the soft giggles that left her lips when he kissed her forehead and whispered a soft “I love you.” 
He wondered how long she’d been dealing with this alone, and how he didn’t notice. His heart wrenched when he thought about how rough overstimulation and sensory issues were for her to deal with when she was with him, making him not even want to think about her having to handle it alone. And not only alone, but in the mindset of a child, where she might not even understand what was happening, and by default, not know how to care for herself. He could see it far too easily in his mind’s eye, her, curled up with her blanket and a stuffed animal, possibly one of the pacifiers between her lips, tears rolling down her face as she feebly attempted to find a position, a feeling that didn’t hurt, something to soothe the bothersome sensations she was already struggling with. 
He was still in front of the closet, no longer standing, but instead sitting criss-cross, turning the items over in his hands. His hoodie was thrown over his shoulder, the smaller of the two pacifiers being held in his left hand. Peering at it, he could easily see that there was a small fairy on it, wearing a crown. The pacifier itself was an orange and pink color mix, the clear part obviously adjusted to fit an adult, telling him it was often used. Picking up the adult one, he softly ran his fingers over the beads decorating it, reading the lettered ones. He smiled when he saw that it read, “Little Princess”, the black of the letters strongly standing out against the stark white of the bead’s background.
Princess had been his nickname for her for as long as he could remember, even when they were just friends, back before mutual crushes were developed. He felt a small stir in his heart at the fact that it had meant so much to her that she’d put it on a pacifier, one of her most vulnerable things she owned. 
There was no hesitation in his mind when he turned over the idea of being her caregiver, just love that he didn’t think could grow stronger. He sat and thought of possible caregiver names. Mommy was definitely out of the question, but he was partial to bubba/bubby. But the only thing that he really felt fit was daddy. Daddy’s little princess. He just knew that she would blush dark red and let out those little giggles that he loved to hear. God, she was so precious. He hadn’t even seen her in her littlespace, and just the thought of it was so heartwarming to him. He already knew he loved her to pieces. 
She wasn’t home yet, and she probably wouldn’t be for an hour. That gave him about sixty minutes to figure out how he wanted to handle this. No, handle wasn’t the right word. This wasn’t a problem, this wasn’t something that needed to be fixed, it wasn’t something he was angry over. Those words should be included when he brings it up. He knows she’s anxious, and this might be a rough conversation for her. That reassurance is going to be incredibly important. Go about, would be the right phrase. He has to take some time to decide how he wants to go about this conversation. He’s going to have to be gentle, probably cautious, and she might panic. He’s going to have to softly remind her it’s okay, that he still loves her just the same, if not more, and that they need to talk about it, but that it is all going to work out. 
He takes all of the items, now known as little gear, and carefully places them on the bed. He leaves them there, along with her favorite stuffed animal and her blankie, and softly shuts the door. He walks into the kitchen, pulling up his notes app and opening the one filled with her favorite foods. It was now roughly 5:45, thirty minutes gone by, and she was expected home around 6:15. He easily pulled out some mac and cheese, currently the dairy free kind, but if she would rather the better kind, he can always change it. Slipping a new bottle of apple juice into the fridge, he figured it would have time to cool while he waited. 
He wasn’t entirely sure of what else he could make to go with the mac and cheese, but scanning through the list, he quickly took an apple out of the fridge, easily cutting it into thin slices and placing them on a paper plate. He placed it back into the fridge, wondering if the apple-on-apple part of the food would be too much. (He would later find out that it wasn’t, and she loved it. She also asked for animal crackers later, when she was fully in headspace. And it may or may not have been one of the cutest things he’d ever seen.) He watched the clock tick to 6:10, hoping she’d be on time. The mac and cheese was finished cooking, and he was easily putting it in small bowls, the colored ones that they’d always loved. 
She walked in the door at 6:14, face very clearly exhausted, an insanely long day wearing on her body. However, a genuine smile crossed her face as she noticed what was sitting on their counter. Her features softened, tiredness still evident, but love creasing her under-eyes as she smiled.
“Babe, you didn’t have to.” 
He crosses the room, tall body bringing her in for a hug, softly rubbing her back, softly placing a kiss to the top of her head. 
“You’ve had such a long day, I’m more than happy to make you dinner. We’ll eat, and afterwards, we can go cuddle, and relax for a bit. Does that sound good, princess?” 
Just like he expected, the pet name made her flush red, and a small laugh left her lips. He stepped back, both of them sitting down, him beginning to eat. 
“It’s dairy free, but if you’d rather have the other kind, I can make it. It’s no issue, I promise. I just didn’t want your stomach to hurt, especially not after you’ve done so much today. You need some rest, and I didn’t think that a stomach ache would make that easier on you.”
She sat there in shock for a few seconds, a smile still on her face. 
“No, it’s okay. Thank you, so much. I love you.”
“I love you too, darling. Why don’t you go ahead and eat, then you can change into some soft clothes, and I’ll lay with you for a while, yeah?” 
A nod in response, and in about fifteen minutes dinner was finished. He knew that dishes overwhelmed her, so he took care of it while he sent her off to go get changed, become more comfortable, momentarily forgetting about the stuff he left laying out. He didn’t recall it until about five minutes later, when he was wondering why she had gone so silent. He finished up the last piece of silverware, hurriedly throwing it into the dishwasher and starting the cycle, as he quickly got to the shared bedroom. He cursed under his breath when he saw that the door was not only shut, but locked. 
“Baby? Can you open the door, please?” 
He gently rapped his knuckles against the wood, patiently waiting for a reply. He got one in the form of a muffled “no.” He desperately tried to ignore the painstakingly obvious sob in her voice.
“Hey, we need to talk. C’mon, open the door, princess.”
The lock slowly turned, the door slowly swinging open. Johnnie walked in, noticing an empty bed, minus his girlfriend sitting at the head of it, tears pouring out of her eyes at a steady pace. He gave her a soft, sad look sitting down next to her and pulling her in close. 
“It’s okay, love. I’ve got you. Where’s all your stuff, angel?”
She shook her head, tears falling faster. 
“There is no stuff.” 
Johnnie gently ran a hand through her hair, softly shushing her, waiting for her to calm down a little bit.
“Honey, we both know there is, and that we should talk. It’s okay, I’m here. I love you, and I’m not leaving.”
She stifled a sob into his body, desperately wishing she had hidden all of her stuff better. When she’d walked in, she’d stood there in shock, and then quickly shoved it back onto a shelf in the closet. 
“Here, baby, will this help? C’mere, arms up, lovely.”
She brought her face up, noticing he had picked up his hoodie again, softly motioning for her to raise her arms up so he could gently pull the soft sweatshirt over her head. It didn’t make her feel little. Not at all. She ignored the soft, knowing smile on his face, immediately laying back into his arms, because as embarrassed and distraught as she was, she really needed some comfort. Even if it wasn’t the kind that she really wanted.
“Sweetheart, I know what’s going on, and you know that I know what’s going on. It’s okay, my love. I’m not judging you, I’ve always been here for you. And I am confident that isn’t going to change with this.”
He worried that he’d said the wrong thing when her body heaved and she sobbed harder, also clutching his shirt like her life was depending on it. She pulled back, gasping when the gray of his hoodie was stained darker with her tears. 
“I’m sorry.” 
He gave her a confused look, rubbing her back. 
“For what, little one?”
She looked so small compared to him, and he felt nothing but protective over her. Her tears had stopped, but distress was evident on her face.
“For getting your shirt, and your hoodie all wet.” 
He didn’t feel any type of upset with her, but her eyes were watering over as she peered up at him, tears threatening to spill over again.
“Princess, I'm not angry with you for crying. It’s okay. You don’t have to be sorry for feeling your emotions, baby.”
A short sniffle was let out, him immediately pressing another kiss to her head. 
“You weren’t supposed to find out like this.” 
“Shh, honey. Deep breaths. Let’s talk, yeah?”
A nod into his chest, but no more spoken words, so he took it upon himself to start the conversation. 
“Alright, princess. I’ll talk, you listen. Just try to even out your breathing, you can interject if you need to. I found all your stuff when I was looking for my hoodie. I would never go to snoop and invade your privacy like that. I feel like that’s important to mention, just so you’re fully aware that I did not intend to scare you by looking for this. Secondly, I know what’s going on, thanks to some research, and I can’t imagine how hard this must have been for you to handle alone.” 
A soft, but confirming, noise elicited from the girl curled up against his chest. 
“That being said, I know you don’t have a caregiver. Can you look at me, angel?” 
Her eyes were still teary, but she raised her head to make eye contact, and he cradled her face in his hands. He pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose, getting a small smile out of her. It didn’t reach her eyes, but it was better than the semi-permanent frown she’d been wearing. 
“I love you, baby, you know that. I hope that you also know I would do anything for you. Anything at all. Do you want me to be your daddy, little one?” 
A sob tore from the back of her throat, making Johnnie believe he’d said the wrong thing… again. But his fears were calmed quickly this time, when she sucked in a breath, clearly speaking out a “yes”, before dissolving back into cries. He didn’t hesitate to resume comforting her, whispering soft praise and loving words, waiting until her cries slowed into hiccups and gasping breaths, before speaking again. 
“You’ve had such a long day, princess. Why don’t I go run you a bath, hm? I’ll even put bubbles in it, if that’s something you want, and I’ll wash your hair.”
She nodded, but her grip on Johnnie, her daddy, (she was still reeling with the new happiness), didn’t let up. He kissed her once more, helping her wrap her legs around his waist, looping his arms under them, and lifting her. She gently rested her head on his shoulder, refusing to acknowledge just how tiny she felt right now as her thumb slowly began to make its way to her mouth. However, it only took about three seconds for Johnnie to notice, and softly pull it away.
“No, baby, let’s not suck on our thumbs. How about we go grab your paci, sweetheart?” 
He easily moved towards the closet, quickly locating the missing items, grabbing the bigger of the two pacifiers off of the shelf, and gently pushing it into her mouth.  
“Much better, baby girl. You look so adorable, don’t you? Daddy’s little princess.” 
Her arms were now wrapped around his neck, head resting on his shoulder, blush rising furiously to her cheeks as she could feel herself easily slipping into littlespace. 
Why was he so good at this? Maybe it was the gentleness, the softness, but either way, he was so effortlessly coaxing her into headspace. She’d never felt safer than she did right now, and she desperately hoped that she would have this for a long time. 
She didn’t know it, but Johnnie was thinking the exact same thing. She looked so happy, so comfortable, that he wanted to keep her there forever. He took a small amount of pride in being trusted with this, but even more happiness in being the reason she feels safe. 
“It’s okay, angel. I know you’re slipping. Shh, sweetpea, let it happen. Daddy’s got you.”
He loved this girl with his whole heart, and this new side of her didn’t affect that at all. He started a bath, checking the temperature on the inside of his wrist multiple times before softly helping her undress and letting her hold his arm and shoulder to sit herself in the tub. Quickly folding up her clothes and setting them on the side, he stepped out solely to throw a towel in the dryer with some fabric softener, setting it on 20 minutes, and to grab one of the bath toys he’d noticed but not set out previously. 
“Look what I got, bubba! Why don’t you play with this while Daddy washes your hair? Paint me a pretty picture, okay?” 
He gently handed her the set of bath paints, before grabbing the plastic cup he kept in the bathroom. He filled it up with water, pressing his hand along her head to keep the water from going in her eyes as he softly wet her hair. He looked down to see her intensely focused on the colors that were now decorating the bathtub wall, and couldn’t stop the smile crossing his face. He gently shampooed her hair, making sure to keep it out of her eyes as he washed it out, pressing a kiss to her forehead as she took a break from painting and leaned into his touch.
“Alright, sweetie, I’m all done! Wow, that is absolutely beautiful, baby!”
A huge grin spread across her face, now, as she brandished the paintbrush at him, getting a little bit of yellow on the end of his nose. 
“It us, daddy!”
He looked at the artwork, seeing two stick figures holding hands, a blotch of yellow as the sun, and some green for grass. He pulled out his phone and took a picture of it, immediately adding it to his favorites. 
“It’s perfect, angel. C’mon, sweetheart, let’s get out, so we can get some cuddles in before bedtime!” 
Just as expected, a pout formed on her face as the painting was slowly washed away, and the paint on Luke’s nose was wiped off.
“It’s okay, princess, Daddy has a picture so he can cherish it forever. Now, tomorrow, when it’s bath time, you can paint me a new one!”
That put a smile back on her face. He grabbed the soft, and warm, towel out of the dryer, wrapping her in it and softly toweling her dry. Grabbing the clothes she’d put on just two hours before, he gently helped her redress, scooping her up and placing her on the sink counter. He bracketed her body with his own so that she wouldn’t fall, setting up her toothbrush for her. 
“I’ll dry your hair while you brush your teeth, okay little one? Let me know if you need some help, princess.” 
Plugging in the hair dryer and being very careful to not have the heat too high or too close, he was about halfway done drying her hair when she finished brushing her teeth, spitting into the sink. He took his other hand, switching the sink on, washing it out, and then passed her the container that held her retainers in it. 
“Here you go, sweetpea. Pop these in, and then you can have your paci to suck on while Daddy finishes up drying your hair, alright?” 
She nodded, easily slipping them in, and he took note of the fact that she was barely verbal right now. He figured it had something to do with the emotions of the night, and wondered how verbal she was usually. He’d find out in due time, but he made sure to give detailed instruction, as well as comfort laced in his words, if it had something to do with fear or anxiety of the situation. 
Passing her the pacifier once she was done, it only took about five more minutes to finish drying her hair, and if he passed the time by singing to her, loud enough to hear over the hair dryer, but not loud enough to overstimulate her, nobody besides the two of them had to know. 
Unplugging the hair dryer and running his hands through her hair to make sure it was fully dry and no shampoo or conditioner was left in it, he picked her up off the counter, pressing a kiss to her cheek, and flipping off the lights on his way out. She let out a yawn into his neck, pacifier falling onto his shoulder. He grabbed it with one arm, the other still supporting her weight, and softly pushed it back into her mouth. She gripped his shirt in a tight fist, a small lisp sounding out around the rubber. 
“I seepy, Daddy.” 
He gently rubbed her back, bouncing her a little bit while he grabbed her blankie and favorite stuffie. 
“Oh, sweet girl, I know. It’s late for such a little one to be up.” 
He softly laid her down, heart breaking a bit when she whimpered and didn’t want to let go of him. 
“I know, angel, I’m here. I promise.” 
He tucked the blankets up around her, laying down next to her and pulling her close for a cuddle. 
“Get some rest, little one. Daddy will be right here when you wake up.” 
He smiled, the expression nearly permanent on his face, as he heard a few words. 
“Loves you, Daddy.” 
“I love you too, princess.”
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thisloveislikeabattle · 7 months
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SandRay is just AkkAyan spelled differently
I've lost count of the number of rewatches I've done of The Eclipse since watching it six months ago for the very first time, but once Only Friends started airing I haven't done any rewatch, just because all my thoughts these past weeks have been obsessively about Sand and Ray
BUT yesterday I found myself watching it again after months and when I got to episode 11 it hit me: SandRay's dynamic when it comes to taking care of each other is the same as AkkAyan's but backwards.
Let me explain, I was watching this specific scene
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And this thought came into my mind: "If in The Eclipse it's Khaotung's character that takes care of First's character, especially when it comes to emotional needs, in Only Friends it's actually the opposite with First's character taking care of Khaotung's character"
Since then I haven't been able to stop noticing all the ways Ayan and Sand mirror each other when caring for their partners
Ayan looked at Akk, and saw something extraordinary. He saw this beautiful broken boy, who was hurting so much and doing it all wrong, he saw him holding on to a very thin thread just on the verge of letting go. Ayan saw all the love Akk needed, and despite being very broken himself, he never ever let go of him.
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Akk did bad things and said awful stuff and pushed Aye away time and time again, and still Aye stayed right were he was and held him up every time Akk hit the ground.
Showed him how despite all his flaws, all his mistakes, he was still someone worthy of love.
And so throughout their journey Ayan gave his heart and soul, took all the love he could muster and stood firm by Akk's side, no matter what.
Ayan made no excuses for Akk's behavior, held him accountable, called him out when he was doing something wrong and at the same time offered Akk all the support he needed to get out of that bad place because he knew how necessary it was to have a support system.
And isn't that exactly what Sand has been doing with Ray ever since he first saw him, left alone, drunk as hell, getting into his car without any concern for his life?
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Just like Ayan, Sand has found this special fragile boy who needs lots and lots of love. And where Akk wanted acceptance and to be good for others, Ray only wants to be loved and to be someone's priority for once in his life.
Even the little things Sand does for Ray. And yes, we joke about Ray being Sand's spoiled princess, but before Sand came into Ray's life, did anyone ever treat him with this much care and affection? No.
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Lighting up his cigarettes, cooking for him, helping him with his helmet, driving him around, changing his dirty clothes when Ray is too passed out to care, going after him no matter what Ray said or did, shaving him...
Yes, Sand is a natural caregiver and perhaps acts of service are his love language, but to me the point is that Sand is able to see the full potential Ray could reach.
Sand knows how precious he truly is; with patience and love and care, with someone by his side ready to fight the battle with him, someone who will not give up on him, Ray may one day be able to blossom into this wonderful person that he is capable of being.
Until that moment comes, Sand will be there for him like no one ever has before. Because Sand looks at Ray and sees someone worth fighting for, someone worthy of love.
And yes, I am aware that Ayan and Sand are very different characters, they are at different points and have different expectations when it comes to relationships.
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Even the way they handle things when it comes to love is different: Ayan is very much open and ready and unafraid to communicate what he wants from Akk, while Sand is emotionally constipated, with his walls all up, still falling hard but refusing to admit it even to himself.
Yet the way Ayan and Sand care for their loved ones appears to me as the very same.
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bratzforchris · 3 months
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Don't Cry, Baby
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Summary: Jake finds out Johnnie's biggest secret by accident, only to discover it's the part of his life he's been missing
Pairing: Little!Johnnie x caregiver!Jake (platonic! I do not ship Jake and Johnnie in real life in any way)
Warnings: Mentions of trauma and blood
Word Count: 2k
A/N: This is an age regression fic. Age regression is always nonsexual and is an innocent coping mechanism. If you don't like, don't read! I hope you enjoy<3
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It was safe to say that Johnnie had dealt with…a lot in his life. Luckily, he had had a very happy childhood, but once he hit his teen years, everything went to shit. The boy felt like he had tried every remedy in the book to cure the awful anxieties and depression that didn’t seem to want to leave his mind: therapy, meds, inpatient treatment, you name it. He always felt like he was stuck, sitting at a brick wall with no way out. Johnnie longed for the happy, carefree days of his childhood, surrounded with love and with the patience and guidance of loving parents. 
It had been something he’d seen in passing. He and Jake had been reading the fanfiction people would publish about them, when they came across a story. It was of Johnnie being an age regressor or “little” and Jake being his caregiver. Both men had laughed it off, hamming up their reactions for the stream, but once the camera had quit rolling, Johnnie was thinking. The second he had alone time that evening, he googled the term and began to read a variety of articles. 
Age regression sounded just like what he needed. Not to be confused with age play, age regression involved a person reverting mentally to a younger age. Most people did it for trauma healing, but some also did it for fun. These “littles” usually had caregivers who helped make sure they were safe, happy, and taken care of. Most age regressors had toys, pacifiers, bottles, and even onesies. It sounded like exactly what Johnnie needed, but he had literally no one to be his caregiver. He hadn’t had a relationship in quite some time, and there was no way he was asking Jake to be his caregiver. The other man was usually open-minded about diverse people, but he had practically pissed his pants laughing reading the fic. 
And so, Johnnie hid it, attempting to regress on his own. It worked, for the most part. He was able to regress and quickly gathered a hefty collection of stuffed toys and pacifiers, which he adored. There was one thing missing, though, and that was someone to care for him. He never got into any sort of trouble when he was little, but he longed for a mommy or a daddy to play with and care for him. 
The hardest part of being little was definitely hiding it from Jake. They lived together, after all. Luckily (or maybe not), Johnnie had become quite the expert at hiding things during his teen years. He had made himself a “regression box” with blue puffy paint and Scooby Doo stickers one night when Jake had been out with Tara, and kept the box stashed at the very back of his closet, overflowing with pacis, toys, and teethers. He kept his one comfort stuffie out on the bed, though. A rather ratty, overstuffed Scooby Doo that he loved with all his heart and had had since childhood. If Jake mentioned anything about it, Johnnie could just bring up his not-so-secret stuffed lamb, Lam Lam, and Jake would easily and quickly move on. 
Over time, the hiding routine became easier. Johnnie had three times he would regress. One, after Jake went to bed. Two, when Jake would randomly crash and take a midday nap. Or three, when Jake would go out. The boy knew he was running a risky game, but it was the only time he had between filming and sneaking around. He had quite the routine once Jake was out of the picture, too. He would change into cozy, black sweatpants and a comfy hoodie, pop a paci in his mouth, and play with his toys for a while. Once he got either hungry or bored, he would make himself a snack and then go down for a nap. Insomnia wracked Johnnie’s mind when he was big, so he knew that the nap was crucial to both his big and little self’s health. 
Everything was going perfectly until it wasn’t. Jake had woken up with the flu, and because of this, had spent most of the day in bed. Johnnie took this as the perfect time to be little, making sure he heard Jake’s congested snores before he fully regressed. He had played with his toys for a while, having a tea party with his stuffed animals before getting bored. His stomach growled loudly with hunger, and the boy yawned, knowing it was nearing the snack and naptime part of his routine. He wandered into the kitchen, still sucking fervently on his paci. 
It was probably because there were two men in their 20s living in the home, but the kitchen was practically empty. Somehow, they were out of dino nuggets, graham crackers, and mac n cheese cups, all of which were little Johnnie's favorite foods. The only thing slightly appetizing the boy saw was a lone apple laying on the kitchen counter. Johnnie hated whole apples, but when his belly rumbled again, he knew he had to eat. And so, the boy grabbed a knife from the drawer beside the sink. Being in his regressed state and not having a mommy or daddy to set rules for him, it didn’t even cross his mind that someone with the mindset and motor skills of a two year old should not wield a knife. 
It was all going well at first. Johnnie was concentrating heavily, sucking on his paci as he carefully sliced the apple. Suddenly, in some sort of mistake, the boy’s finger slipped and the sharp knife nicked his skin. It was all downhill from there. Johnnie immediately began to wail, clutching his bleeding finger as his paci dropped from his lips, the plastic falling to the floor with a thunk. 
“DADDY!” he screamed at the top of his lungs. 
Normally, Johnnie had a pretty high pain tolerance. After all, just look at the tattoos and piercings that littered his skin. However, all that flew out the window when he was little. All he knew was that he was bleeding and that it hurt. 
“DADDY!” Johnnie sobbed again. 
Although Johnnie had never specifically told Jake about his littlespace, the raven-haired boy still thought of Jake as his “daddy”. He had never planned on revealing his biggest secret to his friend, but in that moment, all the little one wanted was for his daddy to hold him and make all the pain go away. 
Having heard the ruckus, Jake stumbled out of his bedroom, wrapped in a thick, white blanket. “Johnnie? What the fuck, man?” he asked, coughing thickly. 
The view that met Jake’s eyes was…an interesting one. Johnnie was sitting on the kitchen floor, clutching his bleeding finger in his little outfit, sobbing his heart out with his paci laying next to him. None of that, or even the crying, was the startling part, though. The part that left Jake so fucking confused was when Johnnie immediately stopped crying after he spoke, cocking his head and staring at Jake with those oh-so-deep blue eyes. 
“Daddy. No say dat. Dat a bad word.” he sniffled, wiping his nose on the sleeve of his hoodie. 
“...Johnnie?” Jake was beyond weirded out. 
“Daddy, I cut my finger,” Johnnie pouted, showing Jake the wound. “Needs ban aid.”
“It must be my fever. I have to be hallucinating,” Jake mumbled to himself, scrubbing a hand across his burning face. “Johnnie, cut the baby act, man. It’s freaking me out. I dunno if this is for a video or what, but it’s weird.”
That just sent the boy into tears again. Johnnie sobbed, crawling across the kitchen floor and clinging to Jake’s leg. As he looked up, Jake could tell whatever this was, it wasn't for a video. Johnnie’s blue eyes were glazed over and he had a sort of happy, far off smile on his face, despite his tears. The boy had relaxed slightly, although his finger was still dripping blood from the cut. 
“If I get you a bandaid, will you stop…whatever this is?” Jake asked, raising a brow. 
Johnnie nodded immediately, untangling himself from Jake’s leg and reaching his hands up. “Daddy ups!”
Jake was so beyond tired from the mental gymnastics this was taking, combined with his illness, that he didn’t argue. He simply picked Johnnie up and placed him on his hip, sighing as they walked to the bathroom. It was clear that Johnnie was not letting up with whatever this was, though. He began to poke at Jake’s snake bites, giggling softly. 
“Daddy, wat dat? I haves dem too!”
Jake made a small noise of confirmation, setting Johnnie down on the closed toilet seat so he could look for bandaids. He figured the best thing he could do right now was just not engage. Johnnie was clearly high on something. The boy continued to babble about random things as Jake practically destroyed the bathroom looking for the damn bandaids. The blood on Johnnie’s finger had slowed significantly now, and now the boy was just babbling away. Just as Jake found the box of bandaids under the sink, Johnnie said something that made him stop in his tracks. 
“Daddy? I loves you.” Johnnie hummed contentedly, looking up at Jake with a little smile. 
Jake bit his lip, ignoring the words by handing Johnnie the box and saying “Here, man.”
He cocked his head, staring at Jake expectantly. “Daddy, I needs help.”
“Yeah…right.” he quickly opened a bandaid and used a piece of toilet paper to wipe the blood off Johnnie’s finger, before placing the sticky bandage over the cut. 
Now that he had his bandaid, Johnnie seemed perfectly content and launched himself into Jake’s arms. The younger man grunted at the sudden weight, shifting Johnnie to his hip again. Even though Jake went to the gym almost every day, Johnnie was still a fully grown adult and he had awful body aches from the fever. He carried him into the living, setting Johnnie down on the couch. 
“Are you good now? I’m going back to sleep.”
Almost like a ticking time bomb, Johnnie’s lip wobbled and he began to cry again. “No leaves me! Daddy comes bac!” 
“Okay okay,” Jake mumbled quickly, sitting down on the couch and wrapping himself in the blanket from earlier. “I’m here.”
Johnnie’s tears immediately stopped and he snuggled into Jake’s side, yawning happily. “I weady for naps now.”
Jake didn’t say anything more as Johnnie began to suck his thumb, cuddled against his side. It didn’t take long for the older male to fall asleep, snoring softly. Jake took this as the perfect time to pull out his phone and google ‘my friend is acting like a baby?’. It didn’t take long for him to find his answer, either. 
Apparently, this was a pretty common thing called age regression, and Johnnie was currently in his headspace. When Jake read that most people used it as a trauma coping mechanism, he almost cried. He didn’t know everything about Johnnie’s life, but he did know that his best friend had been through a hell of a lot. 
Johnnie’s nap lasted nearly two hours, and by the time the boy woke up again, Jake was pretty well-versed in age regression. He had come to the realization that Johnnie thought of him as his caregiver and “daddy”, and secretly, he really, really liked it. It made him feel important, like someone needed him. So when little Johnnie began to stir, yawning softly before he looked up at his friend, Jake was ready. 
“Hey sleepyhead,” he chuckled, running a hand through Johnnie’s hair. “Did you have a good nap?”
Littles were very intuitive to people’s emotions, and Johnnie could definitely sense the shift in Jake’s attitude towards him, which made him smile. “Mhm!”
Jake waited a few minutes to let Johnnie fully wake up before he spoke. “Would you like me to be your daddy, little one?”
Johnnie’s mouth practically fell open in shock and he wrapped his arms around Jake’s neck, squealing out a “YES!”.
And in that moment, Jake knew exactly what he needed as his medicine. Hugs from his best friend, and now little. If they spent the rest of the afternoon cuddling and watching Scooby Doo, no one else had to know.
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rinwritesfics · 6 months
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The Speederbike - Part 2
Plot: Rex’s flirting skills leave something to be desired, but that’s what happens when he takes advice from someone else.
Warnings: Awkward flirting
Word Count: 1432
Author’s Note: Were both parts written all at once? Yes. No descriptions or names for the reader included.
Part 1
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Part 2
When Rex returned, he decided to try out what Fives had told him. After all, he wasn’t going to get anywhere by doing what he was.
He set the cans down by the workbench, then walked over to you and crouched beside you. You backed away from the speederbike for a moment, then sneezed into your elbow.
“Are you alright?” he asked, accidentally causing you to jump. “Sorry. You didn’t get sick while I was gone, did you? There is something going through the ranks, you haven’t caught anything have you?”
You shook your head. “It’s just dust. I’m okay. I am up to date on my vaccinations, too.”
Rex blinked, then tried to hide the blush rising in his cheeks. “Right, yeah. I’m glad you’re up to date. It would be a shame if you got sick.”
He paused, then remembered what Fives said about flirting and took a breath. “But, if you did get sick, I wouldn’t mind taking care of you.”
Your eyes widened. “Huh?”
Rex was in too far to stop, so he kept going. “I just mean I’d be the most attentive caregiver?”
“Uh… I’m okay, but thanks.” You frowned, then got back to working on the bike. Rex watched for a moment, wondering if he had gone too far.
“But I could make you soup and help you if you were.”
“I’m okay.” You turned away.
Suddenly, he realized he had definitely gone way too far. “Sorry,” he whispered, stepping back. “I never should have taken advice from Fives.”
Rex walked away from you and sat at the workbench, his head lowered in embarrassment. He didn’t notice you had stood up and walked over to him.
“Rex?” you said softly.
“I’m sorry,” Rex said quietly, looking down at his hands as he fiddled with his gloves. “I never should have taken advice on flirting from Fives. Usually his tactics are undeniable. But for something like this… I’m just not the right one to do it.”
You hummed in amusement. “Yeah, Fives’ tactics off the battlefield usually only work for him.”
“I’m so sorry I upset you with my flirting. I’m an absolute mess. I’m not a smooth-talking, suave guy.”
You sat on the stool beside him. “Maybe next time you just act like you. Be yourself.”
“Do you think you could forgive me?”
A soft smile crossed your face. “Yeah. I can forgive you.”
He smiled back a little. “Thank you.”
You bit your lower lip, causing his heart to speed up a bit, then you said, “Meet me here tomorrow, okay? The bike’s all fixed up, but it still needs to be painted.”
He looked up from his hands again, a bit surprised at your invitation, and was surprised further by the mischievous twinkle in your eye. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll be here bright and early.”
“See you then, Rex.” You stood up, then left the bay.
“Bye,” he whispered. Rex watched until you were gone, then chewed on his lower lip, replaying everything in his mind. Relief flooded his body since his attempt at flirting hadn’t completely ruined things.
. . .
Morning arrived and so did he bright and early like he said. He had expected to be there before you, but you were there first. You had cleaned the dirt off the speederbike and prepped it for painting already.
“Hey,” he said softly and you turned to him, smiling.
“Good morning, Rex. Grab the paint and we can get started. Do you want this thing to stand out, or just to have accents?”
Rex paused, thinking carefully, then said, “Just accents. We still want to be able to get into enemy territory far enough without being noticed.”
“And the noise won’t be a problem?” you chuckled teasingly.
He laughed. “Okay, well maybe, but that’s not the point.”
“You’re the boss, Cap. Shall we?”
He smiled softly as he looked at you holding up a paintbrush with a smile back. If he tried, he could imagine that this was a project far away from the war, just between the two of you, no expectations on either of you. He grabbed a paintbrush, too.
“So,” you said. “What design are you thinking of?”
He made a decision and with that, the painting began. Every so often, he caught you glancing at him. You also caught him glancing at you upon occasion as well. The smell of the paint wasn’t overwhelming, but it certainly was strong. It wasn’t going to drive him away from you, though. It took a couple of coats on the lines and careful details, but finally, it was done.
“Now, we just have to name this beauty. Any ideas?” you asked.
He thought for a moment. The name had to be special and he almost said your name but decided against it just in case you didn’t think it was funny. Finally, he just went with his gut. “Speed Demon?”
You laughed. “For some reason, it just had a glimpse of you driving this through Coruscant past Commander Fox, playfully saluting him as he watches it all happen in slow motion. It would probably drive him nuts.”
Rex brightened up. “Then it’s perfect.”
He watched as you painstakingly started to paint the letters on, admiring your hands, the face you made in concentration, and the way you absentmindedly wetted your lower lip with your tongue. He swallowed thickly at the sight, suddenly wishing he had the guts to ask you out again.
When you backed away from the speederbike finally, you sat beside him and smiled. “Now, we wait for it to dry and then we can put a protective covering on the paint.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Before he knew what was happening, you raised the fine-point paintbrush and dabbed a tiny bit of black paint on the tip of his nose. His eyes widened in surprise.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked, a bit of wonder in his tone as he looked at you curiously.
You chuckled. “My very best.”
He smiled. After a moment’s pause, he said, “You know the best part of this?”
“What is the best part of this?”
“The time I got to spend with you,” he said quietly, his shyness surging again. “Spending time with someone I care for a lot.”
Your smile turned shy and his heart sped up a little. “I care very much for you, too, Rex,” you said, your tone just as quiet as his.
He says your name softly, then fiddles with his gloves again.
“Rex,” you responded just as gently. You were very close now. His face warmed, and so did the tips of his ears. He swallowed thickly as his stomach did a somersault. Why could he face droidekas and Separatists, but you could reduce him to a melted mess by not doing anything?
He said your name again, then bit his lower lip. “Would it… maybe could I… I’d really like to kiss you…” he whispered. The blood pounded in his ears as he waited for your answer, looking at your face properly just in time to see a smile on your lips. Time almost froze as he waited for your answer.
“Please,” you whispered.
Slowly, he reached his hands up to touch the side of your neck and your cheek, softly touching you before leaning in. The second his lips touched yours, he sighed softly. Your lips began to move against his and he held you close, kissing you back. The rush through his body made all that time worth the wait.
A moment passed and he begrudgingly pulled back, then chuckled softly as he caught sight of the small paint smudge on your cheek and realized it came off his nose. You looked at him with confusion and you gently wiped away the paint from your cheek as you glanced at the rest of the paint on his nose.
With a smile, you said, “This day has been perfect.”
“The only thing that would make it better is if you would be my partner,” he said quietly. “But I’m not sure if that’s appropriate for me to ask.”
You smiled and kissed him softly, melting his worries again for a moment. Then, you said, “Technically, I think the general is my boss since I’m part of this experimental civvie program?”
Rex smiles. “Maybe I can ask?”
“And maybe I can say yes?” you replied teasingly.
“That would be perfect,” he said and kissed you again, not caring about the paint still on his nose. He was yours now, and now the day was definitely perfect.
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classificationhell · 2 days
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A little thought here. If reader has wings/feathers, and they're new to hell/heaven and don't know how to take care of them. And Adam or Lucifer(yeah i know that Valentino also has wings, but he doesn't have feathers so do not count) show reader how to preen them.
Like they notice that reader never does anything with their wings, and their feathers start looking dull and feel brittle. So, as a good caretakers that they are, they scold them for neglecting their wings, before showing them how to do it.
With Mourningstar i feel like he would do it right from the very start. Regular preening sessions.
Considering the ask, I'm adding another character here with Husk since he has feathered wings and would likely have to help Alastor's little in this situation.
Adam- is practically obsessed with looking his best as far as his wings go. He can get away with stubble or a bit of relaxed hygiene and general appearance upkeep since his mask and robes cover pretty much everything, but his wings are out there for anyone and everyone to see and they're almost a source of pride for him. After all, the first man has to have the most beautiful and pristine wings out of all the Winners, of course he isn't so vain that he would compare himself to say someone like Sera, buuuut he definitely spent more of his time ensuring that not a single feather was out of place.
So naturally his winged Litttle would need to follow his shining example. If they're Winners he's probably helping them from the get go if they struggle themselves because he can't be seen dead, or well, double dead, with anyone less than perfect and Winner Little goes wherever he goes, equal parts because of his trust issues and jealous/possessive nature. Will likely tease them at first when they struggle, and will scold them if they show absolutely no interest in the upkeep of their wings.
Now, Sinner Little would probably suffer for a bit. He's still very much pissed that he was saddled with a fucking Sinner of all people and hates that his Caregiver won't let him let you get exterminated by his girls. Plus, it's not like they're leaving the mansion so why the fuck should he care how they look? Only, the longer he's around them the more he does care, and eventually, maybe, he thinks they look pathetic enough, failing miserably to preen their undoubtedly itchy and uncomfortable wings that he takes pity upon them and takes mercy upon them and helps them out. Will likely insult their intelligence at first and say mean things along the lines of "you know the term filthy Sinner isn't meant to be literal right dipshit?" When he cares about them he might say sorry in varying ways and only ever apologizing sincerely when their asleep or farther into the future.
Lucifer, while not as clingy as Mourningstar, would likely still leap at the chance to help his Little. His scolding is mild at best if the Little shows no interest in preening themselves. He honestly would be secretly happy to be able to do this for them while also trying to help them do it on their own if that makes sense. Like he does want them to learn and grow as any Caregiver or parent would, but also if they never do in this aspect he is more than happy to continue doing these Daddy/ Duckling bonding sessions with them.
Mourningstar, however is actively infantilizing the everloving hell out of them as always. Preening was a regular part of their schedule from day one, if they attempt to learn to do it themselves he will merely chuckle and remind them with a soft smile that it's Daddy's job to take care of his babygirl and that he very much loves getting to do this for them, and they wouldnt want to make him feel sad and unwanted would they? As an added note, True Daughter would definitely use their wings as evidence they were related even if they looked nothing alike.
Husk, while not a Caregiver himself, I could see helping out Alastor's Little in the event they had wings and were unable to care for them properly. Honestly, if he noticed them struggling with preening or their wings were bothering them I could see him helping them learn on his own without Alastor using his soul contract to force him to. He's a surly alcoholic, but I imagine he has a soft spot for Littles and Pets especially.
However, Alastor would definitely enlist the cat's help the moment the Little's wings became unkempt enough to notice and he would likely give them a good scolding for letting it get this bad without telling him with a warning that next time they won't get away with a simple verbal lashing.
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topguncortez · 2 years
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Day 13: Can’t make an omelet without breaking a few legs ➢prompt: “Are you here to break me out?" ➢character: Natasha 'Phoenix' Trace ➣warnings: bird strike, PTSD, depression, anger, mentions of injuries, physical therapy ➣word count: 1.8k
|| masterlist || whumptober || whumptober masterlist || library page ||
The crash could be heard down the hall, followed by a string of curse words and yelling as Phoenix “fired” yet another physical therapist. Y/N sighed as she stepped out from around the corner to see the pissed off PT come out of the room, spewing his own curse words. 
“I’m-” 
“She has a real fucking attitude problem that’s going to get her kicked out of here,” The therapist said to Y/N. 
“Can’t you give her the benefit of the doubt?” Y/N pleaded, “She’s going through hell.” 
“So are the other patients in this hospital, but you don’t see them throwing things at us. She’s gotta clean her act up, or we’ll transfer her out of here.” 
Y/N nodded and the therapist walked past her, more than likely going to tell his superior on how this session went. Y/N sighed and looked at the ceiling as she felt tears rim her eyes. These past six months have been anything but easy. Both Y/N and Natasha expected to be planning a wedding, not being stuck in an in-patient care facility. Y/N wiped the tears from her eyes and walked down the hall to the room her fiance was sitting in. 
“Come to break me out?” Natasha said, and Y/N gasped running over to her. Phoenix was trying her hardest to take a step using the walk bars, but Y/N quickly wrapped her arms around her middle to stop her. 
“What the hell are you doing?” Y/N gasped. She looked around and spotted Nat’s wheelchair nearby, and kicked it over with her foot. Natasha rolled her eyes as Y/N set her back down in the chair. 
“Trying to walk,” Phoenix said, “That’s what I’m here for right? What are all these people here for?” 
Y/N pinched the bridge of her nose and looked at her fiance, “You really had to fire another one?” 
“He wasn’t pushing me hard enough,” Phoenix rolled herself over to a rack of dumbbells, and grabbed her designated weight. 
“Maybe because they have to follow a plan that your doctor made.” 
“Doctor knows nothing,” Phoenix grunted, “They are dragging this out longer than it needs to be. They get me walking, I get out of here, and can go back to work-” 
“Dammit Nat!” Y/N yelled. Natasha looked at her with a wide expression. Y/N never cursed like that. She was the level headed one in the relationship, “I’m sorry. I just. . . I can’t.” 
“Y/N!” Nat called after her as she left the room, tears down her face. Natasha sighed and placed the weights back on the rack. She looked at herself in the mirror, and looked down at the brace sitting on her knee. It had been six months since the accident but it felt like the longest six months of Natasha’s life. Only being able to move with the help of someone else, having to call out for help to do a simple task like using the bathroom. Natasha has never been a dependent person, and she wasn’t going to start now. 
Y/N closed her eyes, soaking in the sun off the back patio of the care facility. It was the nicest one in the San Diego area, right off the beach so the patients could go when they were allowed to. It was probably the only thing that kept them from going crazy and staring at the same four walls every day. Y/N had to remind herself that she was one of the lucky caregivers here. Her fiance was going to come home at the end of this, while others would be living here for the rest of their lives. 
She could remember the day she got the call like it was yesterday. They had just gotten engaged about two weeks prior to Nat getting orders to come back to TOPGUN. Y/N didn’t mind going with her, she saw it as a mini vacation to celebrate taking a big step in their relationship. Y/N was happy to see some of her old friends that she had made from following Nat to various duty stations. Natasha didn’t tell her a lot about the mission, but Y/N had gathered that if the best naval aviators were in town, that meant something was serious. Y/N thought she had to worry about when Natasha actually left for the mission, not thinking that she would get a call during their training. 
For four days, Y/N sat by Natasha’s side, waiting for her to wake up. The dagger squad would come by at different times during the day to bring Y/N food, snacks, or a change of clothes. Bob would stay overnight, despite Y/N telling him to go home (he said it's the least he can do for her). Y/N knew the extent of Phoenix’s injuries, having broken down the moment the doctor told her. When Phoenix woke up, the first question she asked was if she was going to walk again. 
Their doctor was honest, and told Phoenix that it would take a lot of hard work to be able to walk again, and that only made her even more determined. In the back of her head, she knew she would never be able to return to the Navy, but she was determined to prove that voice wrong (despite the medical discharge already in progress). After a week in the hospital on base, they moved Natasha and Y/N to the off base treatment facility. Natasha didn’t want the dagger squad seeing her like this, seeing her stuck to the confines of a wheelchair. She also told Y/N to not see them either, and respecting her wishes, Y/N kept her distance from the dagger squad. 
It had never made her feel so alone in her life. Y/N had gotten used to Phoenix being gone for long periods of time and being away from her family, but this was different. The woman who she laid beside at night was not the same woman who she proposed to six months ago. Phoenix had changed. The accident had changed her. She was more closed off, more angry, snapping at Y/N at random times. More volatile than ever, throwing things at the walls or cursing at her doctors and nurses. Y/N had to keep telling herself that it was a side effect of the injury, but she wasn’t sure how much longer she could take this. 
“Hey,” Natasha said, wheeling herself out to the patio. Y/N looked over her shoulder, and sniffled. She pulled her sweater tighter over herself as Nat stopped right next to her, “What’s wrong?” 
“What’s wrong?” Y/N asked, “What’s wrong? What’s wrong is that my fiance is struggling and won’t talk to me. What’s wrong is that my fiance has taken away my only support system. What’s wrong is my fiance is on the verge of getting kicked out of this treatment facility and I am trying to figure out how I am going to have the money to pay for her to go to another one. What’s wrong is I have never felt so far away from you in my life.” 
Natasha’s face softened as she watched Y/N cry. She looked down at her hands and then back up at her, “I’m sorry. I didn’t-” 
“And the shitty thing is. . .I can’t be mad at you because that makes me look like an awful person if I do. My heart hurts so much for you, Natasha. I would never ever wish this on someone, let alone you,” Y/N shifted and leaned forward, grabbing Natasha’s hand, “I love you. . . but you are putting me through absolute hell right now. You are putting everyone through hell. I know you haven’t seen Doctor Goodman in a month. So what is going on?” 
“What’s going on, is that you should be planning a wedding, not wiping my ass cause I can’t.” 
Y/N shook her head, and got down on her knees in front of her, “I don’t care if I am wiping your ass, or feeding you mushed green beans every day. I’ll do it because I love you. Because that is my job as a partner, it’s to provide for you.” 
“It shouldn’t be-” 
“God Phoenix,” Y/N stood up and walked away from her. She kept her back to her, taking a deep breath before turning back around, “I fucking love you! But can you see what you are doing to me?! To us?! When was the last time you told me that you loved me?” 
Natasha stayed quiet. 
“I don’t know if I can do this anymore,” Y/N said barely above a whisper. 
“What do you mean?” Natasha furrowed her eyebrows. 
“You are killing me! I have never felt so fucking alone, Nix. You are pushing away your doctors, your nurses, your friends. . . me!” 
“I’m sorry, I just. . . I don’t know who I am anymore,” Natasha said, and looked away as she felt tears run down her cheeks, “The past ten years of my life I have been ‘Phoenix’ and now I have to relearn how to be ‘Natasha’. I don’t know anymore.” 
Y/N walked over to her, and kneeled down again, “Then let us help you. Me, Bradley, Bob, let us help you. You can not shut us out and expect to carry this all on your own. That’s not healthy. That’s now how you make a healthy recovery.” 
“I can’t ask-” 
“Bob has been making adjustments to the house since we’ve been here. Bradley has been shadowing a PT on base so he can come up with workout plans to help you. Jake. . . as annoying as he is, has been taking care of our cat, he sends me daily pictures,” Natasha laughed at that, “I haven't been grocery shopping since we’ve been here, because they do it. Haven’t done a load of laundry, because they do it for me. They are willing to do anything, and everything to help you because they care. Because we all care about you.” 
Natasha swallowed and looked down at the diamond ring on her finger. She always thought she would be the one to propose to Y/N, but was pleasantly shocked when Y/N got down on one knee a little over half a year ago. Natasha leaned forward, and grabbed Y/N’s face, placing a kiss on her lips. Y/N held her tightly as she kissed her back. 
Natasha held Y/N’s face in her hands as she pulled back, “I love you.”
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illfoandillfie · 1 year
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For the Bday Blurbs: Would you please write a smutty/fluffy sequel to your Advent 2020 blurb “Baby Daddy Roger”? Like maybe it’s Roger and Reader’s first night alone after their baby is born and include the prompts #61.Daddy kink and #73. Makeup sex from the prompt list tag because they've been little short with each other because they’re exhausted from taking care of a newborn and they miss their old dynamic that they fell a little out of after the birth. Thank you! Have a lovely birthday! 😊
okay this didn't turn out at all smutty oops. defs more fluffy and perhaps a bit angsty. but i hope you like it anyway!
You knew things would have to change once the baby was born. Your routines had to accommodate a whole new, tiny, person after all. Most things were expected. Feedings, bathings, remembering to pick up nappies when you picked up milk and bread. You’d been prepared for all of it. Friends who’d given birth had warned you about how your intimate areas would be affected and had given you tips about saline solutions for milk blisters and frozen condoms for post-birthing pain. Books you’d read had offered advice for getting your newborn to latch on properly while you breastfed and what position he should be sleeping in. And Roger was an invaluable partner. His experience with having kids made you feel less anxious about getting things wrong, and you knew you could always count on him. But there was one thing that no one had thought to mention. Not your friends, not your books, not even Roger.  
Your usual dynamic was not so easy to maintain once your son was born. At first you didn’t really notice. Sex was the furthest thing from your mind as you worked out how to be a mother. Your body still hurt from the process of being pregnant and then going through labour. You were constantly exhausted, unable to shower as frequently as you had before giving birth, and your mood fluctuated constantly. Even after you stopped feeling so sore and started feeling a little horny, you and Roger were usually much too tired to actually do anything. But your dynamic had never just been about the sex. The biggest part for you was the comfort of being taken care of, especially while you’d been pregnant. But now both of you had a baby to focus all that affection and care onto.  
The weeks passed and it began to become clearer that your dynamic wasn’t quite what it used to be, but the differences were hard to pinpoint. Your son was getting better about sleeping, which meant you weren’t always as worn out anymore. Feeding was easier, and you’d got the bath time routine down to an art. And Roger was still loving and sweet, just not in quite the way you wanted. It made you feel bad sometimes, worried you were being too selfish. You were thrilled Roger was so hands-on and such a good dad. But you needed more than a few quick kisses and his fingers brushing your hair back when you fell asleep on the couch. You missed the stern way he’d talk to you when you didn’t prioritise your own wellbeing, the way he made you feel so safe and relaxed because you knew he was looking after you. He was still getting what he needed, the sense of control and the opportunity to be a caregiver for someone else. But you were also playing that roll and rarely had a chance to let it drop. And as it all became clearer to you, Roger too began to put together that something was amiss.  
A few months after you’d given birth he decided to surprise you. He’d been watching closely, paying attention to indications of your stress and discontent. At first he’d put it down to postpartum depression or at least stresses of new motherhood. He’d tried to help you as much as he could by taking the baby off your hands so you could rest and just generally being supportive, but that didn’t really seem to help as much as he expected it to. Your mood was still off, you would snap at him more frequently, and he could see the tension in your shoulders. It took a lot of consideration, thinking back to what you’d been like before the birth, as well as a couple of conversations with trusted friends, before he put the pieces together and realised he’d been neglecting you. So he organised something special to make it up to you.   “I’ve got a surprise for you. Tonight.”  “A surprise?” you asked, confused at what had brought it on and what he could possibly have planned.  “Your mum is going to stay the night.”  You frowned in confusion, “Okay? Why?”  “She’s going to look after bub so we can have a night to ourselves. I booked us a hotel.” When you kept staring at him Roger continued, “I thought it might be nice to just have some time for the two of us. I think we need it.”  The rational part of your mind recognised the gesture for what it was – a display of love, a way to show he wasn’t just thinking of the baby. But you were tired, and annoyed, and you’d have preferred to be consulted before Roger called in your mother. “Are you kidding? Have you seen the state of this place? Now I have to add a bunch of cleaning into my day to make the house presentable.”  “Your mum isn’t going to care about that.”  You ignored what you knew to be a valid point, “And I’m not even sure I’m ready to be away from my son for that long yet. He’s still breastfeeding Rog. I can pump and leave some bottles but what if he won’t drink from them?” Before Roger could interrupt you continued, “And a hotel? Really? Pretty fucking presumptive don’t you think.”  As if he’d sensed your mood, the baby started wailing from his cot.   “Y/N, c’mon. You need this.”  “What do I need, Roger? Your cock?”  “That’s not what I-”  “I can’t do this right now,” you sighed, hurrying to check on the baby. The front door crashed while you were rocking him and you assumed Roger had left. 
If you’d thought that was the end of it, you were wrong. Roger returned a few hours later having cooled off, and headed straight up to your bedroom. You hated that you’d argued when you knew he was just trying to do something nice for you and so followed, hoping to smooth things over. But when you reached him he had two overnight backs out and was packing clothes into them. A wave of panic made your breath catch and you steadied yourself with a hand on the doorframe, worried he was leaving you. Until you noticed that half the clothes he was packing were yours.  “What are you doing?” You hoped you sounded more curious than accusatory, wanting to avoid another fight.   “I told you before, we’re going to a hotel tonight.”  “Roger I-”  “No, listen Y/N. This isn’t about sex. I can’t be the only one to notice how tense it’s been lately. I’ve been wracking my brains trying to work out why and I think I figured it out. I’ve been so focused on being a good dada to him that I haven’t been a very good Daddy to you. I mean I’ve been trying to help...”  “It’s okay Rog, we have a pretty good reason our attention’s not been on it and you have been so helpful.”  “Let me finish Y/N. I know having a baby isn’t easy, I know how much you’re dealing with, and I think you could use a night away from all the pressure. I want to look after you properly. So I thought it would be easiest to get out of the house. We can order room service and cuddle up in front of the telly. If you want anything physical, you know I’m happy to provide that. And if not, we can just talk, maybe try and figure out how this thing works now that we have a kid. Okay?”  You felt yourself welling up before Roger had even got to the end of his speech and all you could do was nod in agreement, relieved more than anything else.  “Good girl. Now go and get our toothbrushes for me and anything else you want to bring. Your mum’ll be here soon.”  When he gave the direction, his voice had taken on the once-familiar commanding tone you’d not heard for so long. It felt so nice to let him take the lead again, to give up some control to him, and you couldn’t help but smile as you ran to obey his order. Roger was right, you did need a night off and some time to discuss how to make all the complicated pieces of your relationship fit together properly. Plus the idea of being able to have a long hot bath, and a really good dinner was beyond exciting.  
Roger was smiling too when you brought him the toothbrushes, his soft gaze meeting yours as he took them from you and tucked them into his bag.   “Anything else?” you asked, keen for another taste of submission.  “Just one thing.”  You giggled as he tugged you close, fitting his lips to yours in a deep kiss. The kind you’d not had for far too long. You were interrupted by your mother arriving, the evening punctuated by first the buzz of the doorbell and then by the startled cry of your son.   “I’ll get bub,” Roger said tracing his thumb over the corner of your mouth, “You go let your mum in before she rings that bloody bell again.”  You nodded and rushed to the door thinking that, if he kept kissing you like that, you might need something other than talk.  
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jjtheresidentbaby · 1 year
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Hale Pack Classification Headcanons
characters featured : Issac, Malia, Derek, Peter [moodboards for each character included]
find the mccall pack here & puppy pack here
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Issac Lahey : little — his regression is mostly used to vent or to try and indulge in the childhood he didn’t have due to his bad upbringing. He stays on the young side of things and is pretty quiet (unless Malia convinces him to play pranks on Peter & Derek), he’s very content with only a few people around. Derek & Malia are his favorite people while small but occasionally he sits with Peter or has Scott come over to watch him. His favorite color is blue which he didn’t think would be a big thing but as soon as he told Derek & Peter they were decking his room out with all types of blue things, most everything soft as comfort is a very big deal while Issac is regressed. He can always count that Derek, Peter or Malia will be able to help him with what he needs if somethings off or he simply needs someone to lay with him ♡
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Malia Hale : little — I debated putting her down as a flip but I think this fits better. Most times her regression is used as a way to relax and have fun but if she’s having a bad time while small she’ll ask Peter or Derek to build a fort with her, having a small space she can curl up in brings her immense comfort from how long she spent in the woods. Aside from that she’s a very curious little, always excited to learn about new things and try new games that Derek brings out or attempt to cook something with Peter when she’s feeling big enough. Playing tricks (or trying to) and small pranks on Derek or Peter is one of her favorite pass times, Issac joins in occasionally but she honestly has a better bet convincing Peter to help her play something against Derek. She only really stays around the Hales & Isaac when regressed although sometimes she gets dropped off at Lydia’s for the day, they’ve become quite close since Lydia’s started to babysit Malia when Derek needs ♡
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Derek Hale : caregiver — his main littles are as mentioned before, Malia & Isaac, but he’ll really watch over anyone that needs it! Though he has to admit, between Issac clinging to him and Malia & Peter ganging up on him, he has his hands full. Not that he’d ever change it, he adores watching the littles! He definitely knows he’s Malias and Issacs favorite caregiver, the amount of times they ask to be picked up in a day proves it, and it heals something in Derek, to be wanted and needed in such a caring and kind way. He doesn’t talk about it much but occasionally he’ll sit with Melissa and chat when picking up Malia & Isaac from a playdate or when she invites them all over for dinners ♡
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Peter Hale : caregiver — after everything that happened when he first got out of his coma, he tries really hard to be better than he was. This definitely results in lots of gifts, he’ll get the littles whatever they please, take them places like the aquarium or amusement park anytime he can find the time. Before the Hale fire and everything else, Peter worked as a chef briefly and now he uses those skills to make meals for the littles, allowing them to help anytime they want to, this also takes some stress of off of Derek so he does it as much as he can. He’s a good guy and having the littles around, who appreciate him and want him around, it makes him tear up a lot more than he’d like to admit. Especially when Malia or Issac (or both of them) appear in his doorway at night searching for comfort from the monsters hiding in the dark, he’d risk it all for those two! And when the McCall pack is around and Kira or Lydia come spend time with him he all but falls over from it, he’s so extremely happy to be accepted into their groups and to be seen as a trustworthy caregiver ♡
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paper--moons · 1 year
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Regressor!Howl Headcanons
(with cg!Sophie)
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Now, Howl couldn't exactly say when it was that he started regressing—his headspace has always been very fluid, and it's not exactly like he felt the need to mark the date or note the event that triggered his regression for the first time. Because like with much of his life, it sort of just happened upon him, simultaneously ordinary and yet utterly remarkable as a great many things are. But what he can (and will!) say is that he is a big kid! Most of the time he averages about six or seven years old when he is regressed, but he will slide on down to a precocious four should certain conditions be met and the stars align just so—if you count things like missing lunch because he was too busy playing and getting hangry as a result as the stars aligning, that is. Though this tendency to slip to a lower four is something that he is in a bit of denial about, and if asked how old he is he will answer that he's seven regardless of whether or not that is strictly true at the moment. And he is seven!...sometimes, at least. So it isn't technically a lie, is it? What matters to Howl is that he can maintain his lifestyle of remaining free and unhindered; he's a big boy who can take care of himself, so he doesn't need anyone telling him what to do.
As such, being the the independent big kid that he believed himself to be, he didn't really seek out a caregiver. That is until Sophie came along. She inserted herself seamlessly into his life, and so the fact that she started minding after him more than she probably would otherwise went unnoticed at first. She was making sure he ate regularly, cleaning up his messes that spanned the entire castle, and checking on him even when nobody had asked her. Mostly because something told her he needed someone to mind after him; it isn't until later when she catches him playing with Markl that she makes the connection that perhaps she feels that way because it's something that Howl needs. She watches to be certain, noting how they play together more like peers than like a master entertaining his young apprentice—or maybe not quite peers, as it appears Markl redirects a fussy Howl without even noticing, reminding him that he has to play fair when it seems the boy tries to make up new rules on the spot to suit his needs—and decides to test the waters a little by treating them more similarly for the rest of the afternoon. Much to Sophie's surprise he responds well to the subtle changes in her doting on him. But none are as surprised as Howl himself, because he finds that he actually likes having someone take care of him.
Howl has a tendency to tell tall-tales when he's small, exaggerating every small detail until he's left with something truly fantastical. It isn't necessarily harmful per se—after all, it does show a certain degree of creativity, and he isn't exactly lying about anything that could result in someone getting hurt. But it is a habit that Sophie would like to redirect in some way, given that a large part of this appears to stem from how he perceives himself battling with the way he wishes to be perceived by others. And while his recounting of his many escapades fall victim to this, it's a rather small lie that truly worries Sophie. One that she catches him in early on in fact when she asks him about his regression to try and find out if he's comfortable with her helping him while he's feeling small. A defensively huffed all wizards regress is the near-immediate answer, the way insistence of the "fact" bleeds into a desperation as if begging her to believe him definitely creates a spike of concern in her chest. While not outright correcting him (as it would only cause him a lot of distress), Sophie makes sure that she works with him so that he learns that not everybody regresses, and that it is okay that he does—it doesn't make him any less Howl, if anything it makes him more Howl.
Whether or not small Howl picks up on Sophie's desire to help him is unclear, but what is clear is that small Howl wants to be Sophie's little helper. Wants to help her so so badly, all in an effort to impress her. Sophie does everything! She's amazing and he loves her so much! Surely he can help. Though as it turns out it would be more apt to call him her little troublemaker, given that he often winds up underfoot and accidentally makes extra work for her instead. It isn't as if Howl means to of course, he is just a very involved kid that gets into everything he possibly can. But she doesn't really mind it much, knowing he means well; she often will come up with little tasks specifically for Howl to both keep him occupied and make her job as his cg run a bit more smoothly. Moreover, Sophie often feels that it is the opposite way around and that she is a toddler's assistant—running behind him and picking up his messes, telling him when it's time for a nap, fixing him his lunch (and making sure he actually eats it), helping him manage those big emotions.
On the topic of big emotions, Howl can be a little bit fussy at times. He's very particular about things being a certain way and can get haughty as a result. Things should go his way, they are always better if they go his way! Or so he believes. The little huff-puffs he gives are the first warning sign of a tantrum being imminent, followed either by frustrated tears or an utter shutdown as his emotions overtake him. Both options are a bit not good, though the former sees him remaining verbal and not completely despondent. Before meeting her, he would just have to let the meltdowns run their course and ride it out on his own. With Sophie entering his life however, she seemingly knows exactly how to diffuse the situation and begin to bring him back down to a calmer state. It's during this time that he hits that lower end of his age range, and so Howl only whines a little about how he can take care of himself as she gets him a quick bath and then settled in bed with his stuffies, too tired and worn out from his emotional outburst to keep up his usual high energy. It's easier to let Sophie guide him down and into dreamland than to let his upset keep its vice grip on him, her guidance a reprieve from how unsure his emotions can make him feel.
Although Sophie tends to be more lenient (extremely lenient, some Calcifer might say), there are definitely times where she takes a firmer approach with him, usually out of concern for his own safety. This typically occurs when, ever convinced of his maturity and confident in his abilities, Howl decides to use his magic while he's small. Most of the time it's only small spells, things only meant to entertain himself and Markl, like changing the colors or sizes of things. But there are others times as well, times when he attempts to use forms of magic that really should be reserved for his big self only. It is a dangerous thing when a seven-year-old gets a wild hair and decides to move the entire castle on a whim and make it to where one of the doorways open up next to an ice-cream shop. There's a lot of chaos when this happens, everything shaking as a child's unrefined magic makes the necessary spatial transition coupled with the gleeful laughter from a far too pleased Howl as it works. But before he can run out the door and acquire the coveted ice-cream cone that he pulled this little stunt for, Sophie has grabbed him by his collar and is giving him a good scolding. He could have gotten himself hurt, could have gotten them all hurt, why didn't he wait or get help if he really wanted to move the castle that badly? However Howl genuinely doesn't understand why doing magic when he's regressed isn't necessarily a good idea, and so the scolding earns her a hiccupy little guy that promises he won't do it again. (He immediately forgets this promise and will do it again, but it's the thought that counts!)
Even with Sophie picking up after him, the castle can, at best, be described as cluttercore. This kid has collections, collections upon collections even with everything arranged just so, believe it or not. The cluttercore nature of the castle however lends rather well to a certain game: hide-and-seek. According to Howl this is the best game to play, and Markl seems to agree—games of hide-and-seek can last for hours if they play in the castle, but especially if they include the areas outside the castle as well. Though Sophie has asked that they stop hiding in the towns where they have their storefronts set up, this perhaps leads to her inclusion in their game; with her being a something of a worrier, she tends to act as their seeker most days. It allows her to keep an eye on Howl (with a little help from Calcifer, of course, who is more than willing to help point her in the right direction when he can if it means keeping Howl in check). Plus, it allows Howl to be a hider! While he is a strong proponent of the game being The Best EverTM, Howl only wants to play if he can hide! It isn't fun having to be the seeker for him since he gets so easily frustrated. He gets so stompy if he has to be the seeker and whines that his talents as a hider are being wasted.
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mental-mona · 3 months
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Sex in an Orthodox Jewish Caregiver/Dependent Marriage
This is an essay I wrote years ago as an adjunct to a larger essay on making a caregiver/dependent marriage work. It's based on my and DH's experience as well as some outside advice, and addresses something important for those of us Orthodox Jewish spoonies whose spouses are as much caregiver as lover. I haven't seen the issue of nidah and chronic illness/disability discussed much anywhere, so I'm sharing this here as I originally wrote it in the hope that someone else can benefit from it. It's long and a little spicy, but not so spicy that I feel like I need to tag it as mature.
  I want to discuss something critical to any marriage which can be especially difficult in a caregiver/dependent marriage: sex. Yes, I know it’s uncomfortable to talk about, especially when you’ve been raised never to discuss such things. However, the very practice of taharat hamishpachah is essentially centered around sex, and ignoring or glossing over issues in the bedroom won’t make them go away. So, let’s get to it.
  First off, lower your expectations for mikvah night. Ladies, if your husband had to drive you to the mikvah and wait somewhere near enough for you to find his car easily but far enough away that it wouldn't be creepy to other ladies using the mikvah, it's hard for him to feel like reconnecting and pampering you more than usual, even if that's what you want. If he's exhausted from taking care of you or he's the one who's chronically ill, sex may not be on the table. Gentlemen, if your wife is chronically ill and finds mikvah prep exhausting or you're chronically ill and she spent all day taking care of you before she even started prepping for mikvah, she may not be interested in sex. Just cuddle in each other's arms for a while and call it a night. All of that goes double if one of you has a condition which makes sex physically uncomfortable and/or difficult.
  While we’re talking about mikvah, let’s talk about nidah. If the wife has a gynecological problem that makes her bleed endlessly and/or ridiculously frequently, you may be sexually frustrated for weeks on end. Ladies, I don't care if you've been nidah for four weeks and now you expect a real period again in two days; for the love of everything holy, if you’ve counted 7 clean days then go to mikvah and spend some time reconnecting with your husband. It's worth it, and your body might surprise you and not bleed again for a week. Unless one of you is asexual, you both need sex and touch and reconnection. However you practice nidah, even if it's just stopping sex and nothing else, you'll be frustrated and your stupid little fights won't get resolved as well as you'd like because you won't be able to have makeup sex. If you don't touch each other during nidah and you’re stuck with nidah for too long, you may find yourselves showing signs of clinical depression; humans need touch to thrive. I find that in that kind of situation, getting all the hugs you can from relatives and same-sex friends really helps. It's not the same as your spouse's touch, but it'll at least help keep you functional.
  Something else to consider during nidah and in general: communication. Since you can't just have makeup sex or depending how you practice even hug it out, the best thing you can possibly do for yourselves is learn to communicate your feelings and needs in nice, constructive ways. You want to use "I statements" and be upfront but polite with each other if you're upset about something. Think about how you'd respond to "I'm annoyed that I keep having to wash four bowls when I only used one that day. Could you please try to either wash what you use or use fewer dishes?" as opposed to "Stop using so many dishes! You keep using three bowls to my one, and I hate having to wash them all." Your marriage in general will benefit as you get better at communicating, but it's especially vital if the wife is endlessly nidah.
  Now we come to the real meat of it: the sex itself. Yes, it’s an awkward thing to negotiate, especially when you’re not used to it. First a caveat, that if you’re unsure if a sexual act you want is permitted, ask your rabbi. Once you’ve done that (if necessary), then in general, try to meet each other halfway in the bedroom. Unless one of you is asexual, you probably both have sexual needs. These can be difficult to meet when one of you is chronically ill. Understand that sometimes one of you will be too tired and/or ill to put out when the other wants sex, and neither of you should take issue with the horny one masturbating under those circumstances. If one of you is not up for penetrative sex but still wants to meet the other's needs, you can always use your hands and/or mouths. Another thing to remember is that you don't both need to have an orgasm every time you do something sexual; sometimes it's purely about satisfying one partner, and the other partner will get theirs another time.
  Turning the awkward factor up yet another notch, I recognize that some of you folks out there are into something kinky, or will suddenly discover a kink down the line. If you're kinky, realize that kinky sex probably won't be a regular thing, and figure out ways to work around any disabilities that would make practicing your kink difficult. You might have to do some research, experiment, and perhaps invest a bit more money than you’d planned to, but you will probably be able to find a way to at least make your kink an occasional treat without causing each other undue physical or emotional pain. Communication is key here too – if something doesn’t feel good physically or emotionally, whichever of you is uncomfortable needs to speak up immediately so you can stop, talk it out, and try something else.
  In short, though sex and nidah are difficult topics to discuss, they are vital to a happy marriage. I hope you two find your way, whatever it looks like, and have fun for as long as you live.
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dragon-queen21 · 3 days
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Hello :3 I was wondering if you could do how the Carigivers Hashiras would react to Little Tanjirou crying for literally hours but he stops the moment they pick him up? If not, that's okay! :3
Little Tanjiro + Hashira as Caregivers
I love writing about Tanjiro and the hashira! Let the baby have all the attention >:3 This was a very fun request, I enjoyed it a lot, as you can probably tell by how much I ended up writing. I would honestly love to do more of these if anyone has any other suggestions
~~~
~Obanai just wants Tanjiro to stop crying for his own sake
~He just wants peace and after trying (and failing) to find anyone else to look after the boy he finally realizes that he is going to have to deal with the little if he wants to keep his sanity
“What do you want?”
More tears
“Is there anything that will make you stop crying?!”
(Just a small nod, more tears and grabby hands)
~Easy enough. Turns out being held and given a couple of snake kisses (curtsy of Kaburamaru) and the regressor is giggling, right as rain once again
~Tengen is quick to realize what the boy is after.
~Well it’s what the sound pillar would like to believe
~In actuality it takes him complaining ‘you cry more than Suma does!’ After a half hour of non stop tears for him to realize, ‘Oh. Oh that’s exactly what this is, he needs attention.’
~Scoops him up into his arms and starts bouncing him softly, whispering that he’s okay and suddenly the precious sunshine child is back. No more tears!
~Clearly he is the best caregiver in the world, yup, no problems here. He didn’t go and set he boy down later only for him to start wailing again. No not at all. It’s not his fault he was sure the regressor was asleep
~Shinobu would be convinced that Tanjiro just needs to tire himself out. He’ll be over it soon.
~Well a few minutes turns to an hour or two and she’s sure that not a single soul can get an ounce of rest. What is he, Zenitsu now? How does he still have that many tears left?
~She picks him up trying to move him out of the butterfly mansion and find someone else to deal with him, only for the boy to stop crying almost immediately.
~“Oh.”
~Well that was easier than she thought.
~She’d probably feel really stupid after for making everyone, Tanjiro included, suffer for so long
~Giyu would just be very resigned.
~He’s tired, but putting Tanjiro down means even more crying, and also the threat of a headache
~Because despite Shinobu insisting he will cry himself out, he just doesn’t.
~Maybe he can get the regressor to take a nap along with him. It still counts as being held if they’re cuddling, right? He probably wouldn’t care.
~Hajime feels so bad for the child, crying for so long must be exhausting and if he’s that upset he can’t imagine the grief the poor boy has gone through.
~The stone pillar ends up crying along side him.
~The world is cruel, sometimes the best thing to do is to express that grief so that you can move past it.
~So he goes to pick up the boy, cuddles make everything at least a small bit better- and…Tanjiro’s fine now... Sniffling sure, but he’s stopped out right bawling and now Hajime is just very confused
~Mitsuri would try everything to get Tanjiro to stop crying. It breaks her heart that nothing seems to work.
~He doesn’t want food. Won’t even register if she tries to give him his pacifier. Doesn’t want play, no distraction is helping. He might be over tired but he refuses to sleep.
~She just wants her darling baby boy back to his cheery self
~Sanemi would probably be so ticked at first.
~Brat is going to cause him to lose more of his hearing than Rengoku at this rate
~Why isn’t anyone dealing with him?! Why is it only him?! Surely there are better things he could be doing than babysitting.
~So he pick the crying regressor up as best as he can, keen to go and find someone else to explain to him how to deal with this or better yet take over themselves (he’s not stupid enough to leave the little unattended for long even if he doubts Tanjiro can tell if he left or not.) and he just calms the hell down. What the fu-
~Okay. Welp. He puts Tanjiro back down. Maybe the kid finally tired himself out- nope- nope, he’s screaming again
~Sanemi picks him up again and he’s better. This is why he doesn’t understand children
~Rengoku’s motto which is: The baby wants to be held? Then the baby shall be held!
~Simple as that.
~If that’s what Tanjiro needs to feel safe, then he’s more than happy to have the little in his arms.
~Often the go to pillar to hold Tanjiro for long periods of time as he really just doesn’t care either way.
~He’d just talk to him as he goes about his day, and maybe he’s a bit too loud and Tanjiro can’t really doze off despite being exhausted, but that’s okay because it’s obvious that someone is there with him so he’s content
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rainbowcarousels · 1 year
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No need to apologize, a sudden essay was truly all I ever wanted 🥹 it does align quite perfectly doesn’t it? I mean sometimes it’s all about “reading between the lines” as Lestat once said, specially when it comes to characters who are not Lestat himself/the people closest to him at any given time or POV characters, and this is one of those instances where we’re given just enough to do that imo, it’s all there in the timelines like you said. “It just won't change the fact that he had a second chance to do it right this time with Daniel where he had failed before, to not be a blunt object seeking practical solutions and prove he can in fact take care of people without destroying them”, god this is so true, and I think it also ties back to him being a “failed experiment” in his maker’s eyes, and how he’d been conditioned in his mind (by fate, by circumstance) to repeat that pattern. Armand’s sense of identity in regards to who he is to Daniel is a huge thing too and I’ve always HC that at some point during their difficult years and then in their years apart, he probably rationalized it as him only being fit to be his lover but not his teacher in the blood (which of course represented yet another unforgivable failure).
“He's trying so hard in the modern age to make caregiver be a huge part of him and to be seen as someone who keeps his children safe and even if Daniel was safe at the time, I can't help but think it would bother him that his own firstborn had to be cared for by someone else and that maybe Lestat would be the only person he would really admit this to because he would be the one to understand it.” Yes! Reminds me of that great post by @monstersinthecosmos I think(!) that had me nodding along from start to finish where they mentioned (and I’m only paraphrasing lmao) how Trinity Gate, despite having being conceived as a safe place where people could all heal and come together as a family, also ends up being a place where Armand has to live up to a lot of expectations (the caretaker, the teacher, the protector), like he had to in the cult, and then the theater. And not only that but it would also serve as a constant reminder of how when it had mattered the most, with his own fledging, he was not able to do it. Lestat would totally understand Armand and never judge him for it, he’s “failed” in similar ways before and plays a similar role to Armand’s in the present (the only difference I think is the scale, Lestat has made more fledglings than one can count and Armand only has Daniel to dump all of his trauma on, bless) xoxo DA still sad asf but your meta is like chicken soup for the soul ❤️‍🩹
Absolutely all of this!! Lestat is not omnicient, even if sometimes it feels like he is and you have to remember you're a person removed from his stories.
Oooh yeah actually that is an excellent point, it makes it a little bit worse that it's Marius that takes care of Daniel and the whole idea of maybe Daniel would be considered a failed fledgling from Armand adds to the idea of him being a failed experiment himself. It's a generational trauma thing too, I think this is something Daniel is terrified of being seen as something Armand regrets and sees as a failure, but Armand trying to figure out who he is to people is such a big pattern in all of his identites and part of it definitely feels like it stems from feeling like he can't measure up to his previous self in the eyes of his own maker. Like he couldn't even get something that any back alley vampire made on a whim can do properly, that is a spiral waiting to happen even if it's not true.
Absolutely 100% agree that Armand could rationalise it that way, he does tend to seperate his identities and roles as a coping mechanism but I also think it's just another nail in the coffin of feeling like this is his failure. It would have been compounded by living with the day to day of Daniel when he was at his worst and probably wound have caused a knock on spiral which wouldn't have been fair to either of them, but it doesn't make it easier.
Trinity Gate, despite having being conceived as a safe place where people could all heal and come together as a family, also ends up being a place where Armand has to live up to a lot of expectations (the caretaker, the teacher, the protector), like he had to in the cult, and then the theater. And not only that but it would also serve as a constant reminder of how when it had mattered the most, with his own fledging, he was not able to do it.
This just punches me in the gut every time. I hadn't really thought about it in this context but you're right, the scale of it with Lestat and Armand being seen as community leaders in their own right really does echo each other and puts so much pressure on both of them to be more than themselves. They are roles and figureheads but that doesn't leave them with much space to explore their own traumas and identities in detail. Even in their own homes, it's not really about them.
Someone really needs to make a therapist for these folks, they really need to learn some ways to process what they're going through that isn't running away (Lestat) or trying to wear his reputation like armour to protect not only himself but his children (Armand). I think if you sat down and really interrogated why Armand feels the need to protect his own people so intensely, he's been losing them since he was a child and losing himself over and over at the same time and it's why I think it would bother him to have someone else do that for his child. It's become a part of how he sees himself so it shakes his very sense of identity and it wouldbe a fascinating thing to explore one day.
Thank you for soming in and letting me think about this stuff, I appreciate getting the chance to really look at it in detail!
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