I don’t really have any rules regarding making requests. Any fictional character/show goes but I do still hold the right to refuse something if I need to (unlikely to happen.)
Send your request in my ask box or send it to my dms. You can be as detailed as you want with your requests. (I prefer more details bc sometimes I get stuck without the inspiration)
Timeframe:
Edits don't take long (1-2 days maybe a week before I get to em) but fics depend on how my brain is doing writers block wise and on how many requests I have backed up.
Credit Rules:
Anyone can use my edits with credit by putting "PFP made by @agerefandomstuff" in your bio or wherever you want.
Got questions? Feel free to ask!
-Val🧸💕
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My Fandoms list you can request from (include but are not limited to) are below.
The Boys
Most Marvel (Avengers, Spiderman, Venom, Deadpool, X-Men, Guardians, the movies and some of the tv shows Wandavision and Winter & Falcon)
The Bear
Supernatural (only confident up to like season 9ish😅)
Teen Wolf
Game of Thrones
The Walking Dead (up to Negan introduction)
Some DC. (Peacemaker, Harley Quinn/Birds of Prey, some batfam)
Most Disney movies
Once Upon a Time (up to Anna/Elsa intro)
What We Do In The Shadows
Fallout Tv Show
Shadowhunters (tv show)
Heathers (movie and musical<3)
It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Norseman (Netflix Tv Show)
Abbott Elementary
Adventure Time
Strawberry Shortcake
Superstore
Twilight
One Punch Man
Ouran Highschool Host Club
Beetlejuice (movie)
Hunger Games
Kingsman
Saltburn
Resident Evil (limited knowledge. Mostly just a Ethan Winters lover)
Creepypasta and SCP (knowledge depends on the chara lol)
The Umbrella Academy (S1-2)
Etc etc.. the chances of me watching a show just to fulfill a request are stupid high
It was only a few hours later their camp was reassembled with Daphne choosing to leave a few things out of her glamping tent to fit everyone inside… like her king sized bed and the full sized dresser…. Even though Shaggy and Scooby’s bellies had grown big enough to account for practically four more people after they had finally got the opportunity to eat all of the food they had cooked earlier in the night.
Daphne was combing through Velma’s hair while she dozed on her other friends, happily exhausted from all their running around. Although she had started out anxious about having a whole weekend dedicated to just her regression and all her friends caring for her at once… she ended up having a really good time. The excuse of having a mystery to solve helped her get used to the playground and now she looks forward to playing on it more in the daytime tomorrow, no longer seeing it as an obstacle she would have to push through or be afraid of due to expectations.
She makes a soft noise as Daphne finishes brushing and braiding her hair just as soon as Shaggy finishes telling his night time story. She was almost too sleepy to even lift her head up but luckily she had her closest friends to help with that. Fred carefully moved her just enough they could slip a bonnet over her hair then tucks her down into her sleeping bag.
“You did a really good job today, Velm… we’re all very proud of you…” they all murmur out their sleepy agreements, her glasses getting carefully set aside as she looks up at them with adoration.
“Had lots of fun…more den I have in a while…” she mumbles out with a smile, closing her eyes and drifting off with a lisped, “ni..night… love you gang…”
For all they had been worried about ruining her special weekend… They should've known that big or little… their best friend loved a mystery. But… maybe next time they’ll orchestrate the mystery for her to solve instead of letting a regression deal with something genuinely dangerous.
They’d managed to make it back to the playground and were currently all positioned around various structures, Velma and Freddy securing the last parts of their planned trap when they feel the ground underneath them beginning to rumble
“Alright, gang! Everyone get ready! It sounds like he’s already got it running again!” Fred calls out, rubbing his baby bookworm’s back briefly in an encouraging manner with a little smile and a thumbs up before running off to get in his position.
Velma is so excited she can hardly stay still. Using the clue they'd gathered earlier she takes a shot at using what she assumes is jealousy to try tempting the Mecha out.
“Oh woooooow! I dove this playground! Peemaker–”
“Peace baby! Peacemaker!” Daphne whispers off to the side.
“Oh right. PEACEmaker’s per..perilous playground soooooo much fun! He the best hero ever and ever!”
It successfully goades the Mecha out of the ground with the muffled sounds of a very annoyed man yelling from inside his machine something along the lines of, “Chris is OVERRATED!!” Velma squeals out a half scream and turns around running deeper into the play equipment, the MechaMole pulling itself from the ground to go barreling after her.
It fumbles up the stairs and follows her across a wide beam only to lose her when she disappears down a slide, giggling and squealing the whole time. It was too big to turn around so it instead turned on its drill with the intent to just cut its way out but Daphne jumps down from the monkey bars onto the space in front of him and sticks her tongue out to bait him into following after her. She takes it through the tunnel in front of her, the MechaMole’s outer design getting scrapped up as it forces its way through an opening much too small for it– it gets stuck at the very end but pushes through until it suddenly comes free with an audible–
POP!
Its mechanical body soaring a few feet forward over an edge and right into a firemen’s pole that it slides down with a now damaged drill-snout. It hits the ground with a bang however there's no time for it to recover when right down there mocking it was Shaggy and Scooby, doing a childish dance and laughing at him. Their laughs sober up quickly as he starts his chase back up with them, his target readjusting to any one of the gang that had been ruining his plans. Instead of a blind mole he was like a bull seeing red!
Shaggy and Scooby dip under one structure just to reappear on top of it running perpendicular to where they’d just been while Velma was even higher up running hand in hand with Daphne over to what looked like a pretend castle wing.
MechaMole skids to a stop before it could slam into another part of the structure, figuring it couldn't fit through whatever gap the other two had squeezed into to get up on the same level as them.as it takes a brief second to look around for where else it could go to climb up water splashes it from behind where Freddy was manning the fake pirate ship including its watercannon. With its externals damaged from the earlier tunnel the water is able to seep in and cause some of the machine’s circuits to spark and sizzle.
This time instead of changing its target to Freddy the MechaMole actually starts to go on the run, not realizing it hadn't been the one on offense this whole time. They were. They had been systematically leading him exactly through where they wanted him to progressively break down the machine.
He still was running off of his need for revenge though and once he runs around the castle for protection against the water he sees Velma and Daphne racing down more slides that would lead over to the most open equipment. He could fit there and catch her if he could only beat them up there they’d have no where to go other than across the rope bridge or try to climb back up the tall slides. He goes racing forward, using the last of the fuel and energy to park the machine right in front of the bridge.
The two come to a stop down at the bottom and look surprised for only a second then they put on a scared expression, Daphne hugging Velma close while the MechaMole slowly starts to creep forward, steam and oil leaking out which each heavy footstep against the wood. He gets a few steps in before he realizes just how much balance was required for this bridge–and the machine could only walk on all fours. It wasn't a humanoid shape that could grab onto the rope railing to keep steady. But that likely wouldn't have even worked anyway with how heavy and damaged it was. By the time all four metal feet were on the bridge the rope was shaking like a leaf, threatening to tip off to the side and throw it off.
It tried to take another step forward before it would fully give into a retreat–but that would be the last step the MechaMole would take. The bridge flips and spins the machine around a few dozen times, successfully wrapping it up in a ropey trap as the gang cheers. The girls giggle and carefully climb down the side of the equipment that had slightly hidden rock climbing handles, proving they had always had a way out.
“Now to see who's been putting the peril in the perilous park!”
Together the gang joins up underneath the trapped MechaMole and pull open the hatch, a decent sized man falling out and onto the ground unceremoniously. His head is still spinning as they exclaim out together in confusion,”A random man?”
“Not just any random man!” Velma pipes up, stepping forward and pulling the guy to sit up who was getting less dizzy and more annoyed, “a jealous man who badly dyes his hair.”
“I dont– hey! I'm John Economos! People know me!!” The suspect– John appaarently–argues… effectively giving up any chances of him getting out of this without being identified.
The gang scratch their heads and stay confused, trying to figure out if his name rang any bells. Velma looks through their evidence again then shakes her head as Fred speaks, “yeah no… we… we don't know who you are. We thought you were going to be a nemesis of peacemaker… not some random John Doe.”
“I'm not a John Doe! Im– I work with the guy! Look… he’s really annoying. Very self centered and has been non-stop boasting lately about how much he gets in royalties for letting this private rich-kid park slap his name and face everywhere… I just wanted him to shut up about it… so when I found the mecha suit at my job… I thought… it would be perfect to destroy this place.”
“Then when it’s worth nothing then you get to buy it and build your own in its place!”
“Yeah… and it would've been way better because it would've been open to the public, not just those that pay for it!”
“Hm. I don't know about the first part… but the second one? That’s… actually not such a bad goal.” Fred shrugs as he nods and looks around to his friends who are also nodding in reluctant agreement, “Peacemaker isn’t exactly the best role model anyway.”
“Hey! You leave my friend alone!”
“You're the one destroying his playground!”
“That’s different.” John crosses his arms as red and blue lights flash behind them, “and doesn't matter cause I would've gotten away with it if it wasn't for you meddling kids!”
They follow the oil trail into the woods, Velma leading the way with her Scooby-mobile.
“Look! The puddles are getting bigger!” Daphne points out after a few minutes of walking, making Fred excited.
“We must be getting close!”
sure enough after only a bit more walking they can hear what sounds like an engine misfiring and a man’s voice saying some choice words that little Velma certainly didn't need to hear. Stopping behind a bush just far enough away from the collapsed, smoking MechaMole that they hopefully wouldn't be spotted, Scooby raises his paws up with the physics only a cartoon dog had and covers her ears… but ends up covering her eyes instead.
“Hey! Scooby! Paaaws! I can't see!” Velma whines out, forgetting that being quiet usually went in hand when trying to hide from a suspected villain.
“Shhh.. he’ll hear us–” but it was already too late. The figure was already making a break for it, “Ah! He’s getting away!”
“Not if I have anything to say about it! Let's split up! Shaggy, Scooby! Help me chase him down!” Fred springs up already starting to run after their suspect, changing up their usual teams since he didn't want his favorite little regressor chasing after a bad guy… even if she had just proven she could ride Scooby like a racehorse faster than their star footballer could run.
But Velma wasn't complaining. She was already running over to the damaged Mecha with Daphne chasing her like a mother chasing a kid running with scissors. “We find clues!” Velma calls out, finishing Fred's plan with loud enthusiasm.
The last two look at each other with brief confusion and a slight pout to their lips, murmuring out, “why do we have to chase down some playground destroying maniac…? We could just find a new playground… or go to a diner! Their parking lots are big enough to camp in…” even with their belly aching they run to catch up with Fred, chasing after the figure they couldn't quite make out any defining features while in the dark.
Even so they definitely saw him disappearing down into one of the giant mole holes like it was an escape route. Fred jumps in after him without a second of hesitation, feeling like he was close enough on the perp's tail that he would be able to catch him. But that feeling is wholly overrode once he’s down there.
It's a labyrinth of tunnels and holes that lead all over the entire expanse of the property. Fred shines his flashlight around, checking for any signs of where the shadow went as he waits for Shaggy and Scooby to finish falling down the hole, bouncing around on the dirt ramp that leads inside but he’s already disappeared. The only thing left behind is a piece of torn flannel and an inhaler.
The MechaMole on the other hand has a plethora of clues left inside and it doesn't take long after Velma had crawled her way inside the little hatch hidden under the star shaped nose to find them. She was sitting in the big cushiony driver’s seat, pulling things off the walls and out from little drawers while Daphne was crawling in after her. It was a bit of a tight squeeze for the two of them to both be in there but with a quick seat change–Velma sitting on Daphne’s lap, they began to go through all the papers together.
“Look at this! The whole pilot’s cabin is full of Peacemaker things! Posters… newspaper clippings… pictures…”
Velma points to the picture she had in her hand, “he’s all scribbled!” she exclaims as she looks through the rest of the pile noting the fact that most every picture of peacemaker either had been defaced with scribbles over his eyes or drawn over with mustaches and the like.
“Jeepers… Someone doesn't like the playground’s mascot very much…” Daphne hums out causing Velma to bounce in her lap as she has an epiphany.
“That's why he breaking everything!” she flips through the different items until she finds what looks to be blueprints for a new playground overlaying a map of the current layout with a few areas crossed out… all the areas that had been destroyed so far. “He breaking Peemaker’s stuff so MechaMole can take it n build a new one all for him!”
Daphne gasps and squeezes Velma into a big hug, proud of her for figuring it out. “Good job, Velma!! Oh you're so smart, honey! And look! There's even a pattern. He’s moving east to west so… once he gets his machine running again this one should be next.”
“jinkies! We can't let him do that!”
“We have to tell the police. They’ll have to believe us when they see this machine..” Daphne starts to help Velma towards the exit, stuffing the different papers into her purse, “but… if we leave the MechaMole… then he might come back and fix it before we can convince them…”
Velma stumbles and falls on her way out, taking her best friend’s hand to help her up once she’s also out, “but…Daphie…? What if he come back anyway n attack us to get to his mole?”
It was a legitimate concern since the only thing they really knew about the suspect was he really didn't like peacemaker and potentially was the one to build the big dangerous drill that destroyed massive playground equipment. Who knows what other dangerous things he might have on him or would be capable of doing.
“Youre right… the safest thing we can do is go get help and hope the boys can keep him away from his machine.” She intertwined their fingers and started to head back the way they came at a brisk pace. “Let's go, my little sugarcube!”
“Thought you were gonna say Sherlock…”
Daphne giggles while Velma pushes her glasses up with slightly pink cheeks, she could never quite get used to all the different sweet pet names. “If you were Sherlock then am I Watson?”
Meanwhile the boys were busy running through the tunnels, Scooby having used their clues to track the shadowy suspect’s scent which… had quickly turned into a chase scene. Starting with them chasing the shadow then the shadow scared Shaggy and Scooby into turning around and accidentally chasing Fred, followed by the shadow chasing them then they got separated somehow– the shadow only chasing Fred while Shaggy and Scooby ran in the opposite direction parallel to the other two then– oh they ran in and out of the different tunnels and climbed up and out of holes that lead to the surface only to be chased right back down into the mole holes about a dozen times.
Until their legs got sore and they crashed together, sat in a jumble of dizzy birds flying around and spinning eyes. The shadowy figure recovered the fastest and ran outside, the boys spinning a bit from all the circles they'd been running and the crash but following after him.
Picking up the pace the less dizzy they got they dipped around trees and bushes, trying to follow the trail they assumed the suspect left but as they run past a tree that blocked most of their view in front of them–
CRASH!!
A second collision. This time with the girls instead of the suspect. Although Shaggy and Scooby didn't know that, their vision obstructed as they wrestled in a ball of dirt they kicked up. legs, arms, and a tail occasionally popped out while they grunted and growled out in their bravest sounding voices, “take that! And this! And a little of that!”
“Boys! Boys!” Daphne and Fred try to yell out as they pick themselves up off the ground but they can't seem to get through to them.
Little Velma slides in–literally on the ground beside them–with a referee costume and a whistle. She blows it loud, signaling the end of a fight round and the two Scooby snack fiends stop long enough for the dust to settle and show that it was only the two of them wrapped around each other. Scooby chewing on Shaggy's ankle while Shaggy had a hold on Scooby's tail…holding it like a corncob… and also biting his pal. Which… after all the work outs they put their jaws through while eating it makes sense that their go to fighting tactic would be biting.
They look at each other for a moment, “oh… oops.” then slowly release each other from their maws and sit up on the dirt with a brief awkward air. “Sorry, pal.. I thought–”
“Reah.. thought– Raggy– sorry..” after making sure they were both alright they snicker out little laughs over the silly mix up only to be interrupted by Daphne.
“Boys! If you’re here then where's the suspect?”
“You mean you haven't seen him?” Fred asks in alarm, looking around for any signs of a trail but Shaggy and Scooby had kicked up too much dust, burying anything that could’ve been there. “He ran in this direction!”
Velma gasps and looks behind her then points in the direction they’d left the partially busted machine to sit alone, “He musta gone back!”
“But that means without the boys keeping him away then he’ll have plenty of time to fix its engine before we can stop him!” Daphne grabs Fred and Velma's hand, tugging them to follow her as she starts to run down the trail, “come on! We have to get to the playground first!”
“Woah!” Fred calls out, managing to grab onto Shaggy’s shirt to pull him along with them while Shaggy grabs Scooby’s tail to add him to the chain. In her other arm Velma’s yanked so quick that not only do her feet leave the ground with everyone else’s but her referee costume is left behind in the air for a few seconds before floating down to the ground, her whistle neatly landing on top of the pile.
It takes a good fifteen minutes for the police to show up. By then the group had already moved to the other side of the unrealistically large playground and set up camp once again. It was as big as an amusement park so it wasn't like having one small part of the playground damaged would ruin the experience. They'd just stay away from that area until the police had things solved.
…or so they'd hoped.
“She's got him on the ropes! Oh no! Now he's climbing the ropes! He’s coming at her with a flying elbow but– what's that? she's tagging in his partner–” Daphne giggles quietly as Shaggy and Scooby give quiet dramatic reactions like they were the wrestling crowd of the most insane match up ever as Velma gives her narration, moving her action figures along the ones Daphne was holding.
“I’m telling the truth, officer. This big ugly monster rat came out of the ground and started throwing equipment around! We could've been really hurt!” Fred told the officers for the fifth time starting to feel exasperated with the fact they weren't believing him and weren't going to investigate.
“Riiiight… uh... Rat… monster…” The police officer hums as he pretends to write down Fred's witness statement, the officer’s partner trying to keep a straight face as she sees the crude drawing of a rat godzilla on the page with Fred's ascot added to it. “Very believable.”
The second officer clears her throat to wipe the smile off her face, tucking her thumbs into her uniform’s vest, “And how do we know it wasn't you teenagers wilding out and destroying this perfectly private perilous park?”
Fred looks at her for a moment like he couldn't believe the police would ask him that but her partner nods like he agrees that it would be somehow even slightly probable that a bunch of teens could do this kind of destruction then call to tattle on themselves.
“Uh… because… the equipment is too heavy?” Fred tries, unsure exactly how he was supposed to combat the obvious. Apparently though that wasn't a good enough answer because the cops shared a look before giving him the stink eye. So he… tries the next best thing. Something adults really care about. “Because we put a deposit down to stay here and we wouldn't get it back if we broke things.”
“Ohhh! Well why didn't you say so?” The cops laugh and wave their hands, taking them off their suspect list. The list that only had their names on it because sure why would they believe a giant rat did it? It's not like insane things like that happen around these places everyday.
“Well… anyhow. Nothin’ much we can do about it without a description of the perp. It's too dark out anyhow.”
Fred’s jaw hung a little lower, “Wha– so you're not going to do anything?” He asks in an incredulous tone, getting Velma's attention.
“We’ll put some crime scene tape around the hole–”
“Ooh! I love the tape!” The other officer cuts in as the rest of the gang start to peek out of the van to listen in.
“But the giant rat–”
“Mole!” Velma pipes up to correct him, half hanging out of the car window with a big smile, eager to give clues to the police and help the investigation even a little bit. “Was big mole!!”
“Aww hey there kiddo. You say you saw a mole?” The officer asked her in a patronizing baby voice even leaning down slightly to look at her hanging out of the parked car. “A real big one? Where at?”
While she didn't like the voice he was talking to her in, she really liked getting a chance to tell her side and clear the “rat” misunderstanding up. She pointed in the direction of the hole in the ground... Unfortunately the officer’s partner also happened to be standing in that direction.
He gives a little snort and nods, “Yeah that's right. She does have a big mole. Shaped just like a fish.”
“It does not look like a fish! Stop telling people that!”
Velma gets confused by their weird unprofessionalism and odd interpretation of what she had been trying to say. “No! Mole! Mole dig! Go rahhh! N they go ‘ahhh rat’ but it mole!”
The officer nodded as if understanding what she said but her words were going in one of his ears and out the other without touching a single brain cell while they were visiting. He straightens up and digs in his jacket like he was going to perhaps get his notebook out again to write her witness statement down but instead he pulls out a junior officer badge and sticks it onto her shirt then ruffles her hair in a way that was much more obnoxious than when Fred did it.
“What a…uh.. an excitable little girl you are.”
She gives the two of them unimpressed looks then slips back into the van, regretting ever going out there to try helping them.
The cop shrugs and waves Freddy off as he and his partner start to head back to their car so they can go back to the front to mark off the destruction with tape. “Alright, well just call us if something happens again.”
“Uh… okay, officers…!” Fred tries to say with a positive tone but even as the ever optimistic one he had been left feeling brushed off.
“Fred? Did I hear that right? They're not going to help?” Daphne asks as Fred takes the step over to lean against the window Velma had just been hanging out of.
“I… guess not!”
“But… what if that giant ugly rat comes back and destroys more of the playground?”
The question hung in the air as they all wrestled internally with the same thoughts, Should we investigate? Will it ruin Velma’s weekend? How could they ignore it if it happened again? Would they just have to leave and go somewhere else?
But…
How could they just leave a massive dangerous mystery monster behind like that with people that were clearly not going to do anything?
It would feel… irresponsible if they didn't try to help.
“It. Not. A. RAT!” Velma yells out, interrupting all of their uneasy looks and thoughts and her own frustrated sulking. “It a MOLE! The Talpidae family!”
A moment of silence followed as they all got over the initial shock of her outburst then actually soaked in her words. Something she'd been dying for someone to do all day. To just… listen to what she was saying.
“The monster…”
“Is..”
“A mole…?”
They repeated her, each one of them taking their turn to finish the sentence only for Fred to perk up as he thinks more on it.
“Hey gang… I think she's onto something!” He leans in and points at Scooby, “Do you remember when I thought you had been digging in my parent’s garden because of all those little holes and piles of dirt everywhere?”
Scooby catches onto exactly what he was getting at, nodding his head hard enough his ears bounced around, “Reah! But when I did dug round–”
“That freaky nose lookin animal popped out and scared you!”
“Yes! They were Mole hills! That was a mole that scared Scooby! It looked just like–”
“The big monster!” Daphne finishes for him with a gasp.
“Theyre known for being exceptional at digging holes in the ground like elaborate tunnels so they can get around.”
“Ugh… Who would want to live underground like that? There's only dirt down there. And even I can only do so much with only brown. Don't they have any sort of eye for decorating?”
“Moles gotted bad eyes!” Velma pipes up, having been bouncing in her seat as she was listening to her friends finally understand her. She takes her glasses off then covers her eyes playfully, “They don't see so good!”
Daphne gives a small laugh at her display, pulling the little girl’s hands away from her eyes and whispering to her a quiet, ‘peek-a-boo…!’ They almost get lost in that small game, repeating the motions a few times while Shaggy responds to the new fact.
“Well it sure like saw us well enough earlier!” He says with an anxious laugh.
The comment reminded Velma instantly of the fact that the mole had looked in their direction. It looked right at her. Just like Daphne looked at her every time her hands came away from her eyes… it looked at her between the headlight flashes. She knew it did. But how would an essentially blind animal look at anything? Unless…
“Why would a giant mole go after playground equipment?” Fred asks, getting them all significantly more interested in the mystery they were now unofficially–officially investigating.
“Cause… it… it not a real mole…!” Velma says as she starts to put the puzzle pieces together in her mind.
“Like… what? You’ve been tellin’ us it's a mole–” Shaggy asks, perplexed why she would change her tune the moment they all finally started understanding her.
Instead of answering him Velma takes her glasses back from Daphne, putting them on as she eagerly dives for the driver’s side door, pushing Fred out of the way as she opens it and clambers out before Daphne could wrangle her.
“W-wait…! Velma! Don't run!” The red head yells after the overeager girl as her and the rest of the gang stumble out of the van to race after her.
With surprising speed she makes her way over to where Scooby and her had stopped during fetch. She kneels down to look for the goopy puddles, crawling around in the dirt and getting her outfit all muddy.
By the time she'd found some of the goop the rest of her friends had caught up. “Velm, what–”
She scoops some up into her hand and holds it out to them, much to their disgust and bewilderment. “Look! Look!”
“Uh… yes, dear… we see your… mud pie.”
Velma huffs and rolls her eyes, “nooooo… it’s oil! And some mud… But mostly oil!”
“Oil?”
Fred comes closer, using his handy dandy flashlight to illuminate the glossy, black oil coating her hand. He touches it lightly, just to get enough on his finger to look at the brownish red color it actually was but could only be seen when it was thinned out.
“It’s similar to the oil I use in the van. Or to lubricate any gears for my traps. You know it's hard to find a good lubricant for trapping since you don't want it too slick or it’ll–”
“Why would there be oil puddles leading into the trees at my childhood playground?” Daphne cuts him off as she helps Velma put down the grotesque handful of gunk, trying to get as much wiped off into the grass as possible. Kinda like after stepping in dog poop when you wipe your shoe in the grass until it doesn't smell as bad.
“Like…maybe the kaiju mole is actually a Mecha Mole haha!” Shaggy jokes as his mind goes right to his favorite genre of japanese movies of people making giant robots to fight each other in.
Velma stops playing in the dirt (hardly having cleaned off any of the mess that stained her palm but successfully having built several small dirt houses), looks up at him like he’s a secret genius, then nods enthusiastically. “Mecha…Mole!!”
She squeals and giggles, standing up to theorize the best a baby could. “Moles dig dig dig! Dig tunnels in the ground just like–!” she puts her hands together at a point and runs in a little circle around the others, “Brrrrrr!”
They watch her run around for a moment, Scooby chasing after her playfully as Fred takes a shot at guessing her charades. “Is it a… drill?”
She stops in place and puts her arms up in celebration, Scooby slips her on his back much like earlier just without the panic and jogs her around the others as she gives playful celebration. “Yaaaaaay! Drill! MechaMole s’drill!!”
“It's a drill–? It's a drill!” Fred snaps his fingers with a big smile, so proud of Velma figuring it out, "That's how it gets through the dirt like a real mole would! It must have a drill hidden somewhere inside a mechanical body that someone is controlling to get through the ground and right underneath the playground equipment. That way it can destroy the equipment’s anchors to be able to throw them!”
“Like that's why there’s oil! It musta leaked during one of its attacks and left a trail…!” Shaggy finishes off the theory with a small surprised but satisfied ‘huh.’ as if all this discovery meant the mystery was over…
However it wasn't over yet. They still had to figure out who was controlling the MechaMole.
And Velma was more than excited to do that. Holding onto Scooby’s ears as if they were reigns she steers him around the group once more then after the trail of oil. “Let's go! Let's go!!”
“Shaaaaggyyyy!” Scooby yells out like he was being kidnapped and forced to go into the spooky dark woods… as if he wasn't in control of his own legs that kept propelling them forward.
“Velmaaaa! Stop running off!” Daphne yells as well, grabbing Fred's sleeve as she runs after them.
“Ohhh bother… why do we always get pulled into these kinds of trouble…” Shaggy sighs as the last one left to yet follow, his loyalty to his dog being the only reason he doesn't go right back to the mystery machine to drive like a bat outta hell… “I’m comin for ya scoob!”
With a couple dozen burgers stacked higher than their heads and enough side dishes to start a buffet style restaurant, Shaggy and Scooby stood proud behind the mystery machine.
They also stood very… Hungry. Starving actually. They had managed to control themselves enough to not eat any of the main dishes, only sampling small bites and licking spoons clean. Truly a difficult feat of grand proportions.
“Say Scoob… I think this may be one of our best meals yet! And we haven't even tasted it yet!” His laugh is a mix of pride and something bordering on pain as he wipes drool off his chin.
“Uhhh-huh!” Scooby agrees, wiping off drool in tandem with Shaggy before starting out with a sly suggestion, “Raggy..?”
“Yeah, bud?”
“One bite?” Scooby asks, pointing to one of the towering burgers, cheese and their secret fantastical sauce dripping tantalizingly down the stacked burgers. The food equivalent of a siren’s song luring them into the cheesy abyss…
It's obvious by Shaggy’s expression his thin resolve was slipping away at the suggestion. His mind was working overtime to create excuses for why they might be able to get away with one bite.
“I… yeah… Haha! They won't notice one little nibble.”
Scooby excitedly bounces on his paws back and forth, eagerly cheering on his best friend figuring things out for their mischievous behavior. “Mmmhm! Mmhm! Wont know!”
“But it has to be small. A tiny, little taste test-like nibble–” Shaggy trails off as they both inch forward, drool hanging from their lips, burger hearts in their eyes, jaws and teeth slowly extending with cartoonish exaggeration. Making it seem as if they truly would only take a miniscule bite… but at the last second their impulsivity rears its tasty head and their jaws drop to the ground with a loud anvil sound, ready to vacuum in the entire feast they prepared.
However before they could fill their bellies with more food than a probably 50 people together could eat, there's a loud crash that shakes the very ground they stand on. The two food freak’s jaws roll back into place like window blinds, their teeth shuttering together for a few seconds before they look at each other with wide eyes to check if the other heard that too.
Fred, Daphne, and Velma in tow all come running to the back of the van, confirming to the two that still stood there in fear that something bad indeed definitely happened.
“Are you guys okay?! We heard something crash!” Fred exclaims with a slight breathiness to his voice showing he had run their way, the boy always worried about his friends and their safety.
“Yeah! It shook the ground! What happened?” Daphne chimed in afterwards, Velma’s hand intertwined in hers to keep her safely beside them and in sight. Not that there wasn't any chance that Velma wouldn't have come with to investigate.
“Like… it wasn't us!”
“Then what was it?”
The ground rumbles louder than the first crash was–no– not louder… closer. It rattles the ground enough to trigger the van’s alarm system causing the hazards to flash along with the headlights which perfectly illuminate the source of the chaos.
A giant ugly mole is erupting from the ground, upending some playground equipment, and throwing it a few feet away where it crashed into other damaged equipment that had received the same treatment moments ago.
Daphne gasps and gives a small surprised shriek, both her and Fred’s protective instincts kicking in like a mother with an adrenaline spike. Velma’s feet leave the ground with a little dust cloud as she's yanked right into Daphne’s arms. She would say they were safe and comforting but the caregiver was currently sort of… squeezing her very spirit out in an attempt to shield her behind Fred…who was standing there in front of them with a fearful but determined expression as he… also acted as a human shield.
Meanwhile Scooby had jumped straight into Shaggy's arms, not giving him the option of holding and protecting him while they screamed louder than the alarm system’s horn going off, “GIANT RAAAAAT–!”
Fearfully curious about what was going on, Velma manages to peek over Daphne’s shoulder and sees the mole look in their direction through the flashing lights. Her eyes widen, the red hazard lights reflecting in her glasses before blinking out for a split second leaving them all in that momentary darkness before once again illuminating the scene in front of them… except… suspiciously without a certain giant mole.
Velma perks up, squirming in Daphne’s arms until she was half draped over her shoulder energetically pointing over at the hole in the ground as she eagerly states out in clumsy speech, “Look! Look! All gone!”
Fred briefly glances back at them while Daphne gently wrestles with Velma, afraid that while she was in a headspace that made her much more clumsy than usual she would go try to investigate the dangerous destruction with the kaiju of moles out there.
“No– she's right! Look! It's gone! It fled!” Fred exclaims, but still feeling cautious he steps inside the van, turning off the alarm system, and turning on the headlights that way there was one strong unwavering beam shining out instead of flashing ones.
Shaggy and Scooby were still shaking in their boots but were definitely relieved that the monster was gone. “Like– it destroyed some of the playground! We hadn't even got to try any of it yet!”
“Ohhh…! What're we going to do now?” Daphne exclaims, still holding Velma back and feeling just as concerned as Shaggy about their friend’s little weekend being ruined.
“Hm.. no worries, guys! We’ll just call the authorities! They'll figure it out while we use the rest of the playground.” Fred suggests from inside the van, his mind racing as he runs over what just happened.
“You mean… you don't want us to like…” Shaggy tentatively asks, looking at Scooby before setting him on the ground. They share a look to remind each other they hadn't said the m word yet and…maybe… just maybe that new superstition was why Fred was uncharacteristically suggesting someone other than their group figures out the strange occurrence.
“To what?” Fred asks, too distracted with dialing on the car phone to realize what they were suggesting. Velma understands though and she keeps pointing towards the mystery.
The mystery that was just dying for her to solve it! It didn't matter that her mind was a little fuzzier and she couldn't get all the words out she wanted because she was little– she could solve it! She knew she could! She was the smartest little girl ever! Her friends always told her so.
“Mole! Da mole! Freddyyy! I can do it! I can!” she excitedly offers with a tint of a whine to her voice since Daphne was preventing her from going and playing around by the– er… investigating the scene.
Seemingly understanding, but definitely miss-hearing her, Fred speaks while the phone rings, “Holes? Ohhh! You're right, bookworm, we’ll have to move camp now. Daph, do you think you can pop your tent down before the authorities arrive?”
“Of course! You think I only know how to build? Ha! I still have some bobby pins and mortar left. I can get it packed up if Shaggy and Scooby watch Velma– she’s…" She gives a small grunt as Velma stomps her feet a bit while trying to free herself, that frustrated flush blooming under her freckles from being misunderstood and banned from investigating. “Oh darling… You're really upset about this, aren't you?” the redhead coos, gently but firmly dragging her to the back of the van where Shaggy and Scooby were starting to pack up the food, wanting it to be as safe, secure, and very far away from any monsters.
“Course we’ll keep an eye on her!”
“We’re weliable!” Scooby chimes in with a firm nod, looking proud and very excited that they were going to simply… ignore what happened and flee elsewhere! Somewhere they could eat all that food in peace!
Velma whines unhappily and drags her feet, keeping her eyes on the destruction left behind until she couldn't see it anymore. Daph lifts her the short couple inches up into the van, sitting her down on the edge where she thought the pouty girl would be safe.
Standing tall like a well-trained guard dog, Scooby marches back and forth in front of Velma while Shaggy does all the work of packing away the food. With her head in her hand, she swings her feet off the end of the van, watching Scooby with pouty disinterest… but after a few more dramatic struts past her, a smile cracks at the corner of her mouth which is quickly followed by little giggles and grabby hands becoming out stretched, needing to scritchy-scratch his fur.
He breaks his soldier-like character, falling sideways to lean against her knees heavily while she attacks his back with clumsy loving pets. Scooby was dramatic about most things… everything actually and pets were no different. With a big grin on his face, he stomps his back feet back and forth when his hips are pet, gives little howls when she gets the back of his ears, briefly turns into a cat with the way he purrs as his chin is scratched, and wiggles around in an attempt to guide her hands to the right spot when she scratches around his ribs.
Each silly behavior makes her giggle more until she's slipped off the end of the van and is jogging a few feet away to grab a stick. Scooby playfully chases after her, his eyes going wide with delight at the sight of the impromptu toy. He gives a doggie play bow and wiggles his butt, tail wagging so hard it was basically a propeller as she waves the stick up high before throwing it.
His legs do their little running in place, circling around like a flintstone character, winding him up to then jet off at inhuman speed as he chases after the stick. Velma squeals softly at the sight, giggling then running after him as her little brain forgets the two rules to fetch. That being the human throws and the dog brings it back.
But who cares about those rules when having fun is the ultimate number one?
She chases after Scooby, the poor dog so lasered in on retrieving that he runs right past the destruction without any fear. He scoops up the stick and turns around to happily prance back to Velma but instead bumps right into her.
She falls back onto her butt while Scooby shakes the dizzy birds off his head. “Relma?” he asks, looking around to check that he hadn't somehow already ran back to their starting place. Realizing where they were and the fact she had followed him, fear spiked under his fur. He could only imagine the horrors of what could happen next: the monster could come back, Daphne could get disappointed in him for not keeping a good eye on Velma, the monster could come back, Shaggy could eat all the food while he isn't looking, the monster could–
Velma feels around for her glasses that had seemingly gotten knocked off when she landed, but her hand found a puddle of… something black and… gooey. She pulls her hand up close to her face to try squinting at the mysterious substance, rubbing it between her fingers curiously.
Scooby dives down towards Velma before she could get too into her investigating, his nose basically dragging on the ground to get under her butt to scoop her up and toss her onto his back as he peels out of there, running back to the safety of the van.
“Woah! Jinkies!” Velma calls out in surprise, fumbling to grab onto some part of Scooby for some stability and wiping most of the gunk off onto his fur. Although getting a hold of anything was a bit difficult when riding him backwards.
Scooby comes to a screeching halt behind Shaggy, accidentally launching his rider into his best friend’s back. The two tumble to the ground like falling cards, Shaggy luckily taking the brunt of it and saving Velma from any more boo-boos.
“Zoinks–!” Shaggy yells as he falls, pancaked onto the ground then groaning out, “oww… Scooby what in the world was that, man–??”
Velma sits up, glasses that had merely been bumped up onto her forehead earlier fall back down to her face. while getting her bearings she looks at Scooby who still had the stick grit in his teeth, panting around it as he too got his bearings. It took her little brain a moment to figure out whether she should cry or not but with no one fussing over her and spurring on fear-tears by asking if she was alright, she ended up falling into a small fit of giggles.
“Again! Again!” she cheers out, crawling off Shaggy and stumbling towards Scooby with the hope of getting another doggy ride.
“Again? What's my little miss asking to do again?” Daphne asks as she comes back over, pausing by the van to lift the tents onto the roof only to gasp at the sight of Shaggy on the ground and Scooby all dirty. “Were you two rough housing with my sweet baby? Don't you know better than that?”
“Now like hold on a minute–” Shaggy starts to say as his faithful dog used his stick to scrape him off the ground like he was a hamburger stuck to the grill.
But Daphne doesn't wait for an answer, instead she tugs her pretty baby brunette away from Scooby before she could climb on his back for another ride. “Thats it. You three don't get to be alone anymore. You’ll have to have a babysitter to babysit her.”
“But– Daphieeee!”
“No, no. I won't hear it. You don't need to defend them. You're way too little to wrestle with big kids like them.”
Velma whines and stomps her feet. She wasn't getting to do anything! She couldn't investigate the hole. She couldn't ride on Scooby. Heck now she was banned from wrestling and she didn't even know how she managed that! She hadn't even brought a costume cause she hadn't realized that could've even been an option this weekend!
“But I like wrestling!”
“I know… I know…” Daphne sighs out, feeling a pang of guilt for setting these kinds of rules within the first hour of them being here. She reaches out and cups Velma’s cheek, petting over it reassuringly, “I’m sorry, bookworm… but it's just too dangerous for you when you're like this… How about this? I’ll pull out some of your action figures and you can make them wrestle in the front seats while we drive to a new spot?”
Velma huffs then pushes up her glasses as she looks down at the grass a bit defeated. “...yeah…okay. Did… did you um… pack Mankind? Or Bull Nakano? Or Trish–”
“Yes.. yes I got a lot of the girls.” she assures her as she takes her hand to walk her to the front of the van, feeling a little relieved that she was able to distract her at least slightly, “wait– which one is Mankind? The gross one with the sock on his hand?”
“Talk about unfair..” Shaggy grumbles quietly to Scooby who was now wiping sweat from his brow as if he had narrowly avoided catastrophe.
Can you please do little Velma with the rest of the gang as Caregivers? Within the past year or so I have started seeing Velma as a little, but I can’t find hardly any fics on the Scooby gang.
CW: nothing you wouldnt see in scooby doo. just mild fear.
a/n: no specific scooby doo generation. were just doing general nostalgic vibes of the gang. this is wrote in SB show/movie formatting instead of a one off because i wanted to try something new.
“Boy, Daphne, it sure was nice of your dad to rent out this whole playground for the weekend just so we could take Velma out!” Fred cheerfully calls out from the driver's seat as he brings them closer to the private fence-enclosed playground designed not just for big kids to play on but adults too.
“Oh it’s no big. He used to do this for me and my sisters all the time when we were real little.” Daphne waves off Fred’s compliment with a proud smile, she loved getting opportunities to treat her friends to experiences they otherwise might not get. Because as much as she loved receiving gifts she loved giving them even more. “We’re just lucky they agreed to let us camp here overnight too!”
“And we’re lucky that the mystery machine can fit Two FULL-sized refrigerators to keep us fed for the stay!” Shaggy piped up with a laugh, "Isn't that right Scoob?”
It takes a moment for the silly dog to pop his head out from where he had been squeezed between the fridges for the last hour, looking at Shaggy as he excitedly agrees, “Reah! Reah!”
They were both clearly eager for the moment Fred parked, so they could slip out from their contorted positions and go dig into their supply– it was wholly unsurprisingly to the rest of the gang that they more willing to deal with being extremely cramped in the back as long as it meant they could bring along more food.
Daphne covers her mouth as she giggles at their onetrack mind while Fred slows the van down as they approach large gates with the park’s sign displayed on it, “Look gang! There it is! Peacemaker’s Perilous Playground!”
“Oh… but it looks like they forgot we were coming.” Daphne rolls down the passenger window and hangs out to get a better look as they come to a stop by the gates, “The gates are chained shut.”
“Like did you say Perilous–?”
“Oh well. Guess we’ll have to try again some other time… like maybe… never?” Velma pipes up from where she was slumped down in her seat between Daphne and Fred, cheeks red from embarrassment as she tried to avoid looking anywhere but out the windshield just in case it accidentally triggered her regression more than her friends had already managed to coax out of her just on the ride here.
“Hold on, guys– maybe she like has a point– should we really be going to a playground that has the word perilous right there in its name– I mean like seriously now–”
“Don’t be like that, kiddo. I’m sure we can find a way in.” Fred reassures Velma with a smile, assuming she was disappointed instead of reluctant.
“Reah! Reah! A way in! Way in!” Scooby repeats Fred to help reassure Velma, elbowing Shaggy to get him to chime in on trying to make her feel better as well.
“Oh uh… yeah! No worries, Velma! We’ll find a way into the uh… perilous park… Like… Daph… didn’t they give you a key or something?”
“A key? No, I don't think so but–” Daphne gives a little laugh, realizing she was being an airhead, “Ha! Who needs a key–?” Daphne sits back down in the passenger’s seat and digs through the toddler proof (and not to mention stylish) bag she brought with them.
“When you’ve got a teether and a bottle brush? I can jimmy that lock in a jiff! Be right back!” She sing-songs the last words in her pretty voice while hopping out of the van to work her magic. It was truly a wonder how she was able to pick all manner of locks with the most random items.
But golly… she sure knew how to look pretty while doing it.
Pretty enough Velma’s eyes couldn't help but follow after her, watching her work on picking the lock for a moment before the allure of the playground sign drew her eyes up.
She sank lower in her seat, pushing her glasses up as she hid part of her face in her turtleneck feeling that childlike giddiness creep up in the back of her throat and wind up the springs in her feet.
She couldn't give in. Not yet. Maybe not ever. Maybe… okay maybe in like five minutes. Whether that be in the car heading home cause the lock wouldn't budge or inside the playground where she– Click!
Of course she got it open in record time. It's Daphne. She could probably break into the Louvre and rob them blind with enough time afterwards to visit their gift shop for a new outfit accessory before anyone would even know!
“Alright! Pull her through, Fred! I'll lock it behind us!” Daphne yells out, happily waving with her ‘tools’ from beside the gate she had pushed open wide enough for the van to fit through.
“Alright! Go Daph!” Fred cheers as he drives through the gates, stopping right past them to wait for the red head to join them again.
The gates make loud haunting, creaking noises as they close. Noises that sent chills down Shaggy and Scooby’s spines– or maybe that was from the freezing cold fridges they were still molded against.
Either way their sixth sense for danger (aka cowardice) was picking up on some spookiness going on at this supposedly innocent playground.
“I hope that pit in my belly is just hunger…haha..” Shaggy laughs nervously to Scooby, “I’d hate for Velma’s special regression weekend to get ruined…”
After all, she hardly let them take care of her all together during normal situations–despite their enthusiastic encouragement and adoration. She tended to get shy with the whole group's attention on her. So Shaggy assumed she would be totally against regressing if a mystery happened to find them this weekend..
“Say Scoob… Not to be superstitious but… maybe we should avoid the m-word while we're out here. Just in case.” He continues, whispering to the dog who tilted his head in confusion.
“Hm?”
“Cause I dont want a m-word to like find us and take Velma out of that kiddo headspace. She deserves a good ol fashion break from the stress of being a big kid that gets chased around and solves other people’s scary business, you hear?”
Scooby lit up, understanding the assignment instantly. Don't say mystery. So a mystery might not find them. That way Velma would stay little! A foolproof plan! Shaggy was a genius! “Reah! Us too!”
“Us too? Well…. You know I'll never turn down a great opportunity to relax and do nothin but like chow down, buddy, ol pal!”
“Mmmmmhm! Yummy!” Scooby agrees, licking his lips as he starts to think about all the food they packed.
With Daphne back in the car, Fred continued to drive into the oddly themed playground that, of course, had just as odd of a long winding entrance road taking them to the parking lot.
Spooky kind of long… and winding… like the person who made it wanted people to start to feel lost and uneasy the longer it took for them to reach the destination…
Or maybe it was so visitors could enjoy the scenery! There were an awful lot of trees around!
…to get lost in.
Or climb!
Who knew what the intent behind the weird decorative designs of expensive private playgrounds were? Not Freddy at least. He didn't understand the rich. He just admired them from afar. Like weird zoo animals.
Ah.. how he liked zoos. Maybe they should visit one next weekend. He could even rent one of those neat strollers for kids then Velma and Scooby could ride in it together!
Driving through the deserted parking lot and into the actual playground, Fred parked while the two dorks in the back squeezed their way outside to cartoonishly shake off the shapes they'd been pancaked into for the last few hours.
Fred and Daphne soon joined them, stepping out of the van to discuss a good spot to set up camp. But when a few minutes passed and Velma still hadn’t made any move to get out of the van with everyone else she turned back to the van, leaning in through the window.
“Velma, sweetie, are you okay?” Daphne asked, concern written on the caregiver’s face. The poor girl had been quiet the whole drive down… but it’s Velma… they didn’t expect her to be jumping for joy, screaming, or anything of the like but… she did expect when they arrived that she would… well… she expected anything but what looked like dread.
“Hm? What? Oh uh… yeah. I'm great. Fine. I'll be right out.” Velma lies, her arms wrapped around her knees as she stays hidden in her sweater, hardly even glancing at the red head since she knew she'd be able to see through the lie if she did.
Of course Daphne wasn’t convinced but she decided to let it go for the moment, not wanting to push Velma too hard when they’d only just arrived. “Um… well… okay. Me and Freddy are going to start setting up camp while Shaggy and Scooby fix some food. When you're ready you can come join us, okay?”
“Uh... yeah… okay. I'll do that.” she mumbles out in return, mostly just trying to appease Daph for the moment without getting everyone concerned and trying to fix things.
“What’s wrong with her?” Fred asks his girlfriend softly as she heads over to join him with pulling supplies off the roof of the van, genuinely concerned for their best friend.
“I… don't know. She’s not coming out yet.”
“Was it something I said? Did she hear me thinking about zoos again?” he sucks his teeth and snaps his fingers after setting down one of the perfectly wrapped up tents, instantly berating himself for thinking too loudly. “I should've known she wouldn't want to visit the zoo in a regular stroller. We’ll have to modify the van–”
“What? Freddy no–” Daphne looks at him bewildered, not having a clue what he was talking about. “She probably needs a minute to adjust. This is a big step for her.”
“Oh right!” He laughs and goes to lift another tent off the van’s roof, Daphne helping with one end while he talks, “I almost forgot Little Velm hasn't been out on a big adventure like this with all of us. And she hasn't even got little! How long does it take for her to regress anyway? Is it like downloading something onto the computer? Cause that takes forever.”
“That’s cause your computer is ancient.”
“You mean its reliable–”
“I mean you still use dial-up.” Daphne puts bluntly before shaking her head to get him to stop dragging her down his side tangents, “anyway! No. It's not like that. It's just a headspace. It comes on when she wants it to sometimes. Sometimes it just happens. Have you really never been around her when she slips?”
“Um… No, I don't think so. Usually you just bring her over and we play board games.” Fred reminds her, pulling the last of the supplies off the roof with her help then carrying it a few feet from the car to start unpacking the tents.
They idly chitchat while setting up the tents, Daphne getting hers done ironically quicker than the boy scout. Plus hers was decorated extra cozy too with pretty fairy lights everywhere, big fluffy comforters disguised as sleeping bags, actual dressers for storage including a toy chest and multiple clothing racks, a COUCH, a beautiful soft rug, paintings for ambience, and finally a bookcase so she could read bedtime stories with Velma later around the campfire.
Fred tent however was… certainly not anywhere near the glamping style Daphne had perfected. No, his tent was… rustic to say the least. The inside only has some mystery incorporated branded sleeping bags and a single oil lamp for light. But the stakes were firmly in the ground so the wind wouldn't catch it like last time, there were no unpatched holes for the rain to seep in, and even better– the mosquito net was intact!! That's the boy scout way! Sort of.
While those two were busy with the tents and Shaggy and Scooby with food preparations, a hulking dark shadow lurks around in the tree line surrounding the playground, disappearing right as Velma finally decides to peek her head out of her sweater. She flinches at the sight of the shadow, confused and unsure if she’d seen it right. But as she sits up straighter, leaning forward on the dash to get a better look she sees… nothing. It's nothing but trees and playground equipment. She makes a curious but unsure hum, her gut feeling making her file the sight away for later… just in case…
Daphne had gone over to Fred to try sprucing his tent up, bringing her purse of magical decorative construction when Velma stepped out of the van, still eyeing the tree line. “Um.. Daphie–” she calls out, not fully aware of how small she already felt until she heard her own voice.
The realization she'd already begun to slip shifts her focus. She covers her mouth with her hand, her sweater sleeve held in a way to cover her fingers and the couple stops mid conversation to look over at her with delight.
“Hi, babyyy!” Daphne happily greets her, drawing out her words like a melody as she sets her bag aside to go scoop her pretty little regressor up in a hug.
Velm’s cheeks get warm as she's wrapped up in a hug, face squished gently against the other girl’s chest. She stands still, not returning the hug initially from shyness but the more Daphne coos out sweet words about how happy she was to see her join them and about how much fun she had decorating for the two of them, the easier it was to melt into the embrace. She lightly nuzzles into the red head for a moment, her voice a comforting background noise for her as she soaks up the affection…
No doubt a sneaky tactic that was sinking her further into her younger headspace, Velma’s paranoid thoughts came up with a little too late, she could practically see the numbers representing her mental age falling away from her.
A rough hand ruffling her hair pulls Velma out of her mind, "There's our little bookworm! Did you see my tent? Pretty cool, right? I'll give you a tour!”
“Wait– Freddie–” Daphne tries to interject as Freddy takes their freshly regressed girl’s hand, already leading her to his rustic tent while his girlfriend reluctantly follows while holding Velma's other arm.
In the distance the shadow lingers, its hulking figure lingering in the dark overgrowth, watching silent and uneasy.
Could you do one about little reader who is being fussy because they lost their paci and hasn’t slept for a few days with cg Stucky??
a/n: wolverine one coming soon
Missing You and My Paci
word count: 1260
You'd been up for what felt like the entire week your caregivers had been gone on a mission together. You were worried sick about them, unable to even call or text them to see if they were alive… or if they wanted to see the drawings you made for them…
Or y’know… if they knew where your pacifier was.
Ohhhh that pacifier.
It had been missing since they left and no one else that lived in the tower had seen it nor was it anywhere to be found in the small apartment you shared with the two men.
You hadn't been as bothered by its disappearance the first day. Mildly annoyed and inconvenience– yes. But it hadn't felt like an end of the world situation. You figured you could hold off your headspace for a few days until you found it or until the boys came back.
By the third day you had torn the apartment apart, turned the tower bedrooms upside down, and looked through every crack and crevice of the common room for it.
The others keep trying to reassure you that you would find it or that you could just get another one but–no! No way! You couldn't just– they didn't understand!! It was so important! Your caregivers had gotten you that specific pacifier! And it meant everything to you! You always knew where it was and always used it when you regressed and– and… and you couldn't sleep without it! Not while they were gone!!
You needed to have something tangible from them that was sentimental or else… or else it meant you might not love them or they’ll hate you for not appreciating the gifts they got you and that just wasn't true because you loved it but by the stuffies– you just didn't know where it was!!
No matter how much their friends tried. Soft lights, gentle lullabies, good cuddleable toys… one of Steve's stinky sweatshirts not yet washed free of his scent… a lot of warm milk and sleepy time teas… nothing. You wouldn't sleep. You wouldn't stop having uncontrollable bouts of sobbing. Always wailing about the missing pacifier or wanting Steve and Bucky back.
It had reached a point Bruce was considering giving you a sedative for your own health. But lucky for everyone your perfect, loving, and incredibly hardworking caregivers came back early from their mission.
Unfortunate for them that they didn't receive as cheerful of a welcome back from their sweet kiddo as they had expected. Instead you barreled into their arms, red in the face with extra dark eyebags that rivaled Bucky’s on his worst days and a throat so sore from wailing that you sounded like a radio station with a bad connection. All crackles and coughs as you babble out apologies and pleas, anything for them to never leave again.
“Woah..! woah woah! Okay. hold on– why are you crying, bug?” Steve kneeled down, letting his bag drop from his shoulder to the floor as he hugs you close, rubbing your back as you keep sobbing out words that were too garbled to be understood. He looks up at a very exhausted but relieved looking Nat and Bruce and asks again, “what happened?”
“Lost pacifier on day one.” she starts.
“Hasnt slept since.” the other finishes.
Bucky’s brows furrow slightly at the news then shares a look with Steve who understands but also looks visibly a bit guilty. He turns his head back to you as Buck fishes around in his pocket, “Hey, bug… Stevie’s got somethin to tell you. Okay? Are you listening? Can you look at me?”
Bucky pulls out the pacifier in question out and uses the cleaner part of his sleeve to wipe off the nipple as Steve keeps going in that soft voice of his. “I must have accidentally packed it in our things out of habit before we left…he’s kept it safe in his pocket the whole time just waiting to give it back to you.”
Bucky squats down to be at eye level with the two of you as he holds the pacifier out towards your face, “Yeah, bug. Here. Look. All safe… and ready to join you for a nap.”
“All of us for a nap. What do you think?” Steve asks, silently trying to convey to his partner that he also needed some solid rest.
You look at the pacifier that had caused you so much grief for so long with such shock and confusion it nearly stopped your crying all at once. Your arms relaxed from their death grip around the blond’s shoulders, no longer digging into him like you were trying to physically carve handles into him so you would never be able to be pried off again.
You just couldn't believe that… that they had it the whole time.
They kept it safe.
They… they had taken a piece of you with them. Even if it was an accident they had still purposely kept it on them the whole time they were gone. Keeping it safe. Sleeping with it in their hands like they sometimes did when it fell from your mouth at night and… and never forgetting you.
“Yeah… Its been a long week for all of us.” Buck agrees with that soft rumbled voice, gently tapping the pacifier to your mouth as you continue to look at it in disbelief. “We definitely deserve a nap.”
Your tears fill your eyes back up, looking up at him like he was something descending down from your best, most unbelievable dreams. You swore you could almost see a halo of light illuminating him. Well.. okay maybe it was the lights glinting off his metal arm but still– it was magical.
“Y…you… Bubby… n Sevie keped it… f’me?” you rasp out on the verge of bawling again, this time from the overwhelming feeling of… being seen and loved.
“What did you think we would do with it? Can’t modify it to be a weapon when it's our best baby’s favorite binky, can we?” he jokes, his brows furrowing just lightly together in bewilderment as he watches you choke out a sob then start wailing again. He would've thought that teasing you would've made you feel… better. Not worse.
His looks between you and the only man that could see the twinge of worry hidden behind his features and asks, “What did I do?”
“Nothing. I think our kid’s simply tired…” Steve grunts softly as he stands up, bringing you with him. “And happy we're back.”
You reach out to grab Bucky's wrist before you and Steve are all the way up, pulling his hand closer to take the pacifier in your mouth and making him stand with you two. He holds it there for a couple moments to keep it from falling out of your mouth each time you have to suck in a breath or sob again.
You three stand there for a minute, captain caregiver gently bouncing or rocking you while the ever dutiful brunette keeps your pacifier in place until you start to calm down enough to keep it there without help. By then you couldn’t hardly keep your eyes open no matter how much you wanted to make sure they wouldn't leave you the moment you drifted off.
When your face had fallen onto Steve's broad shoulder again, eyes so puffy from exhaustion and tears he grabbed the other’s nearly forgotten bag off the floor then took your hand into his to hold while you were carried to their bedroom in the tower.
could you please do a fic with cg jason todd and a baby regressor reader? :) maybe he’s come home from a mission while dick was babysitting and reader is so happy to see him! and they spend the rest of the evening together and winding down! thank you!
Jason's Little Bird
word count: 4103
Description: Jason comes back from a mission to find his place a mess from Uncle Grayson babysitting his baby regressor.
cw: like two cuss words, brief mentions of Jason having minor injuries on his face from his mission, brief baby crying. its pretty fluffy tbh
ao3 vers
While Jason definitely appreciated his older brother babysitting for him while he was out on missions… he definitely wished Dick wouldn't rile you up so much for his return. Because while Grayson could no doubt be the most responsible out of the group of chaotic robins… he was also still a man that grew up in a circus and was elated to have the chance to be the fun uncle.
That meant every time Jason came home, tired and beat up, he would instantly be bombarded with whatever mischief you two had gotten up to and the high likelihood that he’d be dealing with a baby’s sugar crash once his brother left.
Today was no different. He took a deep breath as he unlocked the door, already hearing your sweet little excited screams and laughter that only became louder as he stepped inside far enough to see Dick pushing you around in a laundry basket in the transformed living room. He makes train noises and skirts you precariously close around diy obstacles to make you giggle and shriek more, not noticing Jason yet due to how good he was at being stealthy.
Along with his perfectly nice new rocking chair being used as one of the obstacles, Jason could see candy, popcorn, half-drunk baby bottles, and way too many toys littered around the room. Making it look as if there had been a massive rager of a party in the few hours he'd been gone.
He leans on the doorway as his gaze wanders away from the mess to watch you two for a few moments, feeling a mix of fondness and genuine bewilderment over how you two could create such a mess in such little time.
After Grayson makes you crash into the pile of sofa cushions, sending them toppling to the floor, Jason clears his throat to get both of your attention. Both of you whip your head around to look back at him, giggle fits paused to register who had silently snuck up on them.
Upon the sight of your caregiver standing there with his usual stoic, resting-grump expression, your face breaks right back into a massive smile of pure love for the man that everyone else feared so much. You squeal out nonsense babble, attempting to crawl out of the basket while your hands outstretch towards him, a recipe practically promising you would fall on your face if someone didn't help you.
Seeing your cute baby giddiness for him, Jason's mouth quirks up in a small smile and crosses the room while Dick helps lift you out of the basket while also making sure you don't lose your balance.
He carefully steps over mess after mess to make sure he doesn't break any of your toys–luckily he had his boots still on so he wouldn't get something lodged in his foot this time. Reaching you before you have to crawl very far, he kneels down and holds his arms out.
“Hey kid…” He greets you, helping keep you stable as you practically try to climb him. The excitement that blew up in your chest upon seeing him filling you with the overwhelming need to both give and get as much affection from your favorite person as you could get.
You babble nonsense, the only words anyone is vaguely able to make out is the nickname you call him while regressed to which Jason gives a quiet breathy laugh, responding to what he thought you were trying to convey. “Yeah… I know. I'm back. I'm home. You missed me plenty, huh? Mmhm. I hear ya kid.. You’re real little right now. Younger than I left you.”
He rubs your back then adjusts how he's positioned on the floor to sit you more comfortably in his lap while you keep babbling. Your hand now coming up to lightly paw at his uniform. He glances up at Dick, now crisscross on the floor in front of them, seeing him munch on one of the candies that had been scattered on the floor.
Jason raises an eyebrow at him, glancing around the living room turned… whatever this was then continues pretending to be your interpreter so he could get some sort of legitimate answer from Dick, “So… sounds like the kid’s tellin me you two had… fun.”
His brother grins slightly, popping another floor candy in his mouth, his consciousness apparently free from guilt. “Yeah. Babies know how to have fun.”
“Oh you're saying the baby came up with all this?” he says sarcastically, gesturing vaguely to the candy they both knew fully well had not been stocked in Jason's place for a kid to have casually found.
Grayson laughs a bit and shrugs as you babble out something to participate in the conversation, “Hear that? They're taking responsibility.”
Jason scoffs out a laugh and shakes his head, turning his smile down at you and softening his voice a little more as he asks, “Is that what you're doing? Huh? Or are you tattling on Uncle Dickhead?”
You giggle and shake your hands happily, looking between the two of them as you recognize enough words to know your carer was talking about Grayson. You point at him to prove you knew that word, looking at Jason for approvable which he instantly gives with amused pride.
“It was Uncle? He destroyed the whole place and you were such a good kid who would neeeever participate in his shenanigans? Oh I knew it! Good job! Yeaaah! Good job, baby!”
“Thats not fair! You're manipulating their love for you and their babyspace!”
“I would never. I believe in letting kids make their own choices no influencing the decsion.” Jason shoots him a playfully evil look then whispers to you while not so subtly pointing to himself, “who do you like better, hm? Me or your stinky uncle? Me right?”
“What?? You can't ask that! What are you– hey! Little bird. Look at me! Look at uncle! You loooove your uncle yeah? I let you skip naptime and eat a lot of junk food and I even drove you around in your own basket train!”
Jason whispers the little nickname you gave him a few times for extra insurance you would choose him… since he was pretty sure you didn't even fully know what they were playfully arguing over you to do… but you would no doubt respond to your favorite words.
His plan successfully gets your attention, your gaze no longer flipping between them curiously. You giggle as you look at Jason then reach up to paw at his face, fingers clumsily grabbing near his mouth where the words you liked hearing the most were coming from.
He pretends to try eating your fingers and you squeal softly, pulling them away but watching him with rapt attention to see what he would do next. With a bigger smile on his face–one he usually kept mostly between you and him–he proudly states to Grayson who had to quickly turn his admiration from watching the soft moment between you two into pretend sulking. “I win. You know what that means.”
“Yeah… okay okay. I'm going.” Grayson groans and stands up, Jason helping you stand up and walk by letting you stand on his feet and keeping you upright with his arms wrapped around you.
He walks Grayson to the door, your gaze fixed your two feet and the way Jason sort of waddles to move each of your legs with his.
He opens the door and uses your arms to gesture in an exaggerated way outwards while playfully delivering in a dry tone to his brother, “Get out of my house.”
“I’m out. I’m gone.” Grayson holds his hands up in surrender as he walks out of the door, briefly pausing to break his act to give you an actual goodbye. He kisses your cheek and whispers to you before giving his little brother a wave as well, "I had fun, kiddo. Don't be too good for Jason while I'm gone.”
Jason closes the door behind him and walks you back to the living room, groaning dramatically about how heavy your feet felt standing on his, “I mean… we gotta teach you how to walk soon. Or just how to crawl faster.”
You tilt your head back to try looking at him, babbling nonsense back that he shrugs at, “Cause I’m not Superman, bud. I’m only going to pick you up when I absolutely have to. Or… when I'm training and you're big enough to have fun being tossed around.”
He carefully sits you down on the floor, grabbing the couch cushions and placing them back where they're supposed to be. You whine at first when you're separated but stop when he softly chastises you, “woah. No. No whining unless we're hurt.” he gives you a tired but still stern look until you stop, mostly out of innocent confusion for what garnered that look.
Ultimately you choose to crawl your way right in front of his feet to get his attention but after he tucks the last cushion in he simply… steps around you and nabs the blanket off the tv. You make another noise at being ignored and toss a toy in his direction then bounce on your knees while lightly smacking your hands on the floor to try getting him to come over and play.
“You throwing stuff at me now? Listen, little bird… I don't want to get into a fight tonight with you. So you better make the next shot worth it cause I’ll swaddle you so tight in this blanket so you can't do it a third time.”
You make soft hum noises and keep smacking your hands on the floor to keep his attention on you. You just wanted to keep the playtime going like with Uncle Grayson… but Jason knew well enough by the way your hands were subtly vibrating and the fact his brother said that you missed your nap… you would be crashing soon. Just like he would since he was running out of leftover adrenaline from his mission.
He tosses the blanket over your head for good measure on his threat then looks around for the tv remote so you both could have some time to… relax and wind down before putting you to bed. You squawk at the blanket landing over you and clumsily pull it off, making sure to let him know about your displeasure that he mimics softly during his search.
“Mmm bahbah ehhhyeah yeah I know– give me a moment.” He finally finds the remote in the tipped over bowl of popcorn and vaguely wipes it off on his pants before coming over to collapse onto the couch. “Okay… c’mere kid. It's getting close to your bedtime… in… a few hours.”
You look at him with a mixture of excitement and frustration. Because he WAS home but he WASN'T playing with you. And that just wasn't fair. You made a little displeased noise as he pats the couch, expecting you to climb up as if you weren't some poor little helpless baby that couldn't even walk on your own without help! How could he expect you to do anything on your own without his busted beefy arms picking you up?
You pout at him and lightly smack the couch to sort of mimic him. He tilts his head slightly, trying to not show his amusement at your frustration. Because it wasn't funny that you were slowly getting tired and irritated but it was funny to see you trying to argue through babble along with those clumsy hand flaps. “What? What's that look for? Hm? Climb up here.”
You were losing your giddy little kid patience, not realizing you had begun to grow tired without any more candy to keep your sugar high going. You move a little closer to the couch just to drape as much as yourself as you could without raising off your knees, your cheek resting on the cushion to pout at him.
“Awwha..” he coo laughs at your pitiful performance a bit sarcastically, “are you too little, huh? Are you too little and the couch too tall?” You make a soft extra pitiful whine and he grins softly at you with a head shake, finally leaning towards you. “You need help?”
He gives a soft chuckle then reaches out for you, “alright.. Poor baby. Up you go.” he hoists you up onto his lap, moving the blanket to rest around your shoulders but you squirm until it's off again. You still wanted to play… as evident by the toy you had snagged off the floor right before he hoisted you up.
You bounce in his lap, babbling again with the expectation he would join you. But he gives you a slightly tired look and doesn't coo back to you, instead trying to limit your bouncing. After a minute, your babbles turned more grumpy and insistent, demanding he play with his favorite baby!
“Baby– I know. Okay? I know you want to play. But… I'm running on empty.. And I think you are too so– wait– no– don’t–” You insistently keep bouncing, now shaking the toy in his face and he grunts softly from frustration.
He takes a breath to stay stern instead of angry. “No. No play.” he says firmly, gently pushing the toy to your chest to make sure he got through to you even through your current limited vocab.
The rejection hurts your chest and makes you pause, looking at him with slight despair, like him not wanting to keep the whole day full of playtime was a sort of betrayal. He sighs and gently tries to tug you forward to lay down against him but you don't go right away, a pout forming on your lips along with some watery eyes. He starts to shake his head with a grimace, “No… don't cry either… I didn't mean to make you cry… I'm just tired. And I know you're tired too. Aren't you kiddo?”
He wipes his thumb under your eyes where the tears haven’t quite fallen yet, a silent promise to wipe them when they do and to give you a gentle touch to let you focus on while he speaks real softly to you again, “Yeah… are you so tired? I can see it. Dick didn't put you down for a nap and fed you too much candy… now you're so sleepy.”
You start to nod a little with him, liking the sounds of him talking and reassuring you about how tired you were. And you know what? You were feeling a little tired now that he mentioned it. Almost overwhelmingly so. It made the tears feel hotter and you give a small breathy sob.
“Let's have some quiet time.. Okay? Yeah. Wind down. No more play tonight. Let's get you calm and ready for bed.” This time when he tugs you forward you cuddle into his chest to have a brief quiet cry. “Oof.. yeah. There you go.”
He rubbed your back for a few minutes to calm down the crying he knew was mostly from you being regressed so little. Babies didn't have great emotional regulation and while he always felt a little anxious about you crying he could recognize that you weren't actually hurt or upset. You were just a little baby with a sugar crash.
He turns on the tv and lowers the volume quiet enough to keep things soft before even looking for a show. He flicks through a few channels deciding cartoons would be better mindless content for the both of you to half watch than something like the news. No one liked Gotham news anyway. Not even the anchors.
You peek at it but keep your face mostly smushed against him, the lazy tears that dripped out ran down his uniform if he didn't wipe them off first. You mumble out a tearful nonsense word while pointing to the screen with the toy still clasped tightly in your hand as Bluey briefly pops up.
Jason makes an uncertain noise and flips it to a different cartoon, “Ehh… maybe not tonight, kiddo. Last time Bluey made me cry. And I dont… think we both need to have tears tonight.”
He flicks through a couple more, ultimately stopping on Transformers. You look at the screen curiously for a moment then back at him, finally noting how tired he looked right now. His face was about as dirty and bruised as his hands were. Brows slightly pinching together you reach up to brush your fingers over a cut on his cheekbone as lightly as a baby could.
His eyes flick over to you, curious about what you were doing. He gives a slightly confused smile at you, “What?” you make a soft noise and keep touching the mark until he wraps his fingers around yours, tugging them away. “Yeah? That so? Well how about this? We watch the rest of this episode… then you can help bandage me up and drink a warm bottle?”
He didn't think either of you would be awake enough by then to actually bandage him up but he could manage a bottle. As… long as there was a clean one left in the kitchen and they weren't all on the floor right now.
You make a soft squeal and squeeze his hand, repeating the last word with a smile that begins to dry the last of your tears. “Bababa…”
“Mmhm… bottle. Looks like you didn't finish a full one at all today… also looks like you were drinking soda from them instead of something good for babies.” Something he would also probably do if you gave him sweet enough puppy eyes.
“Bahbaba..”
“Bottle. Buh… aw… tuh… ul..” he repeats again, sounding out the word with you that you mouth along with.
Only to continue with the same babbled version.
“Buh..ababab..”
“You know what? That's perfect.” he nods and releases your hand to pat your butt instead, “I’ll get you a proper baba in a bit.”
You giggle softly and bring your freed hand up to his mouth, lightly poking at the split part there while he talks. “Bababa–”
Jason moves his head away each time you poke at the split then would turn back to pretend bite at your fingers. He pauses when you babble the same word again. It should be annoying. But it had teetered over to ridiculous for him, making him snort out a laugh. He drops his forehead against yours at first as his shoulders shake with quiet laughter then quickly drops it down to your shoulder as he keeps laughing.
“It's– this is so stupid– it's not even a.. Its not even a funny word–”
You smile a little as you watch him, pawing at his shoulders and chest to try getting him to look back up at you while he laughs as you cut him off to once again repeat your apparent new favorite word. “Babababa–!”
He chokes out a louder snort then lets you pull his head back to look up at you, knowing you had no idea how ridiculous you were as a baby. “It's so stupid, little bird. It's– ohh.. This is so dumb… I.. I know for sure I'm tired..for… laughing at… whatever this is. I think…” he shakes his head as he forces his laughing fit to calm down. He lets out a little breath then stands up, hoisting you with him, doing exactly what he said he wouldn’t do earlier. Carrying you when it wasn't necessary. “We need to just go to bed now. Before we get anymore… sleep drunk.”
He carries you to the kitchen, sitting you on the counter so his hands were free to look for any clean bottles… however he was instantly reminded how little you were when you nearly topple right off the moment he moved away.
“Shit–” he moves quickly, catching and gently sliding you back into a safer spot, “alright. Yeah. Okay. That was… my fault for.. Not keeping a hold of you.”
“Sha.. eet..!”
“What? No– you–” he presses his lips together to keep from cracking up again. “I guess.. That's also my fault. But at least… you've moved onto a different word?”
He slides you over on the counter, towards a different cupboard. Putting it within arms reach while he could still keep a hand on you to keep you in place. He fumbles around to look for a bottle making a slightly relieved sigh as he sees one last one bottle left hidden behind his many chipped coffee mugs. He frees it from behind its cheap ceramic soldiers and hoists you back onto his hip to turn around in the small kitchen, opening up the fridge.
He holds it open with his foot then looks between the gallon of milk he needed to grab and the bottle in his only free hand. He ends up offering it to you to hold, which you happily do, bringing it to your mouth to try drinking from the empty bottle as he grabs the milk.
He sets you back down on the counter and looks at you as you make little confused frustrated noises as you can't get anything out of it. “You struggling, kid? I wonder if it's because there’s nothing in there to drink..”
He gently pries it from your mouth where you were biting at the rubber then unscrews the cap, shaking the milk container, watching the way your mouth drops open in surprise to hear the drink you wanted was in a whole different place. He gives a small chuckle and pours the slightly frothed milk into the bottle, not bothering to clean up the counter or the side of the bottle when it spills over.
He goes to put the bottle in the microwave right behind you but you whine and clumsily grab at the bottle to bring it back towards yourself. More spills over but he keeps it from completely toppling, “you want it now? It's cold. You feel it? Cold.”
You keep trying to wrestle the bottle towards yourself, not caring that it was cold. “Baby bird– cold. Do you want it cold or warm? Warm milk?” he points to the microwave but it causes you to nearly spill the bottle again so he just gives up on trying to get you to understand.
“Okay. You don't want it warm? I.. sure whatever you want.” he pries your now milk covered fingers off the bottle so he can twist the lid back on.
He hands it back to you which you eagerly bring right back up to your mouth, trying twice as hard to drink from it since the first time all you got was air. But now that there's actual milk in it you get a little too much in your mouth, nearly inhaling it and causing you to cough it right back out, getting your shirt a mess.
He looks at you with a bewildered and slight disgusted expression, thinking, ‘why would you do that?’
He slowly pushes the base of the bottle down so you can't do it again right away, still looking at you with such a tired emotion as he tried to figure out if he even wanted to deal with this the responsible way or not.
When you cough again, milk spittle getting on his uniform the decision is made for him. He was too tired for full dad mode. You're getting the big brother fix.
He peels your wet shirt off, using the dry parts to wipe more of you off then just… drops the shirt on the floor to be with the rest of the mess he would have to clean up tomorrow then repeats the came actions with his uniform.
He preferred to not sleep in his uniform anyway. At least not when you were regressed. He didnt… need to always feel wound up and ready to fight at any moment if he was taking care of you. Because with you his role was to be your caregiver. Not a vigilante.
You don't seem to mind the difference in clothing just reaching back out for the bottle again. He holds it away, picking you up instead and heading to the bedroom.
Getting you both comfy in bed–including putting a wall of pillows on your side so you might not fall off at night–he lets you half curl up into his lap and drink from the bottle again. With him holding it to control some of the flow this time however.
Guess who’s the dummy and realized they never posted any of these? Me. But that’s okay cause now you’ll get a few over the next couple days as I finish up more requests.
Can you write. Baby regressor Soldier boy from the boys headcanons please?
Regressor!Ben Headcannons (+ a little story blurb)
Being out of his time, Ben is often learning about new things and how the modern world works.
It makes him feel stupid.
Like an alien on a different planet.
Like… like a child.
He knew how his world worked. He had been at the top of the food chain with the newest tech being gifted to him all the time and breakthrough science crap injected in him to make him what he was.
But the modern world was just… too different. There was hardly anything left for him to recognize. And these… assholes that released him from his decades long russian torture treated him…as if he was a glass child. With their limited patience that he could see them wrestling to keep underwraps after he says something and they have to carefully teach him the modern way of going about it. As if they viewed him as being always close to breaking and cutting them with his shards if they stopped handling him with kid gloves.
What he hated more was the fact he needed it and he… he didn't hate their patience.
They rarely got angry with him when he was learning new technology or having to give long winded explanations of pop culture references. They didn't even really get that irritated with him even when he had days where he refused to watch anything beyond his own movies because they were a comfort to him.
He’s lost count of the amount of times Hughie alone has sat him down and attempted to teach him about phones and the kid wasn't the only one to try. Most of the boys have tried their hand at teaching him something about the phone they got him.
So he only occasionally carried around the one they bought for him. Mostly to get them off his back. He can’t do much other than read the messages they sent him. Don't try to get him to figure out how to open the messages app to respond back. And DON'T tell him that they can track the phone.
Butcher once joked about how Ben would at least never be an “iPad baby” because he couldn't figure out the device enough to get addicted.
it didn't matter that Ben didn't understand what that reference was because he would argue and bitch about being called a baby in just about any context.
It was a little ironic that Butcher said that because maybe sometimes he would bug Hughie like an annoying little sibling until he could get him to pull up old movies on his phone for him to watch during particularly long car rides or in safe houses that didn't have a tv. Or when he just wasn't included in conversations and they needed to keep him distracted. (he is surprisingly receptive to baby sensory videos… But only when high enough.)
“Hughie.” Ben called out as he walked over to him from across the room, not caring that he was interrupting the boy’s conversation with that Starchick. He held the box– phone out to him, the extra protective case on it making it much thicker than a usual phone. Hughie glanced at him briefly then held up his finger to tell him to wait. The action instantly irritates him and makes him much more impatient.
“Hughie. Hughie. Put that invisible man movie on my small television– Hughie! The one with that hot piece of ass, Gloria Stuart? You know… I was supposed to do a movie with her back in the–”
Hughie gave him a look that said, ‘are you serious?’ while Startits held up her hand in a placating way but also as another sign to wait while she gave Ben a pinched smile, “Wait your turn. Okay?”
He bristled and leveled her with a hard look as he opened his mouth to put her in her place and remind her who she was ‘as a woman’ but a part of him wondered if that would only come across as more immature and end up being talked to even more like he was a mannerless child.
He grit his teeth while they continued to talk for a few more seconds before he reached out and grabbed the edge of Hughie’s shirt, tugging on it to silently get his attention since he apparently wasn't allowed to share any stories or ask for a simple second request!
The silence lasted only a second longer before he tugged much more harshly on the kid’s shirt and shoves the mini tv in his face, “Hughie! Movie! Now!”
Hughie flinched a bit and held his hands up in surrender, “okay! Okay. jesus. I was getting to you. What movie are you talking about?”
“It has an invisible man in it with Gloria Stuart!”
He gives Ben a slightly confused and unconvinced look as he taps his little fingers away on the glass, “You mean… The Invisible Man?”
God he just wasn't listening today! No one was listening! Was everything he said just babble to them or what? “Yes! There's a man that goes invisible in it!”
“No the– i know he goes invisible. The original movie. From the 30s. Is called the Invisible Man.” he huffs quietly, looking at his girlfriend briefly to share one of those silent adult conversations before handing the little tv back to Ben with a big triangle in the middle of the glass.
“I don't know the name of the movie i watched it decades ago.”
“...just… tap the screen when you're ready to watch it.” Hughie sighs out, turning back to talk to starlight who added onto her boyfriend’s instructions.
“Lightly! Remember we tap the phone screen lightly so we don't break it.”
It was good he was reminded but he still gave her a snarky look before he walks off only to look down at the movie beginning to play with a slight giddiness in his heart.
–
Kind of a shithead. But are we surprised? It's Ben. He curses when he's told not to, purposely says certain slurs and other outdated mess up stuff because he knows it’ll exasperate everyone around him, does dangerous stuff, and takes dangerous stuff all while regressed.
In general he can be pretty disrespectful… until put in his place by someone he more or less respects and views as a parental figure (Butcher!) because he has some deep rooted issues from his neglectful father that make him feel like he has to listen to a parent to make them like him/be impressed with him.
After a while and a whoooole lot of a proving themself to him the person he sees as that parental/caregiver figure (although they may not see themselves as that) will be just about the only place Ben feels comfortable to actually explore and relax into his regression.
But then he’ll do a lot of small “average” gestures to impress them instead of trying big things. Like drawing for them or showing them how tall he could build his block tower… or just taking his naps without throwing too big of a fit.
Needs a curfew and scheduled time to “rest his eyes” in the afternoons. (it’s literally a bedtime and scheduled nap time. but he’ll get angry if you call it that. Bc he’s “not a toddler.” You're right Ben! You're not a toddler! You're a baby.) Otherwise he just won’t sleep.
Gets anxiety about sleeping. Especially without a comfort item and someone staying with him due to his fear of getting iced again.
Sleeps best if Butcher is in the room with him or even Kimiko because he thinks they're some of the most capable with fighting and potentially protecting him.
But he will settle for Hughie sleeping beside him.
He regularly sleeps in the same bed as Hughie. However there is a strict no cuddling rule (for now). Some physical contact is… okay… but only back to back so he can feel the others’ body warmth as a reassurance. (he doesn’t want to look “weak” by cuddling or doing something else he views as being too “girly” like holding hands.)
Watches his movies a lot and only branches out when “made” to.
Butcher puts something on and he’ll watch the whole thing enraptured with childish awe. Pictures in color were easy to accept and get used to, he sees in damn color doesn’t he? It’s not a big deal. But the special effects and the cars and hot chicks… that blows his mind a bit and he starts to actually enjoy being “forced” to watch new movies. Even if he’ll never admit they’re better in any way than his own.
His own time period of movies are still his baseline comfort however and are sometimes easier on his eyes, particularly when he has a hangover.
Eats worse junk food than normal and tries to put his drugs in it and gets frustrated when Hughie doesn’t let him.
“No! No way! He can’t fucking tell me what to do! Hughie– you sure as shit ain’t my father! So you ain't got any say in what I shove down my own gullet!” Looks at Butcher for confirmation and backup but he just gives Ben a look that says ‘y’gotta respect him even if we ain’t agreein with him.’ He’s disappointed with the Brit's response, his shoulders sagging a bit but listens. Albeit with a heavy attitude that would get most regressors punished– but really.. not having his elephant-killer snack simply because he was little felt like punishment enough to Ben. He flips the full crack-seasoned pizza box at Hughie then goes and sulks.
Likes listening to old 1920’s music because it was something he grew up with his parents listening to.
He used to sing and do a bit of dancing on TV but he likes listening more than doing when he’s regressed. Partially because he can't remember the lyrics very well or he just finds it hard to do anything more than just hum along when playing or falling asleep.
Loves chocolate chips because they were literally created when he was a teen and he only started to get to try them for a small period of time before his time with Vought.
Given apple juice in the glass bottles so he still feels “grown” and can pretend he’s drinking beer with Butcher but he’s still drinking from something he can't spill… or easily spike when no one is looking.
Outdoor baby. If it's possible for him to be outside while little he will be. But secluded outdoors for obvious explosive reasons.
If he’s a big enough baby or feeling a little rebellious he’ll climb trees but otherwise he’s happy to simply play in the dirt and drive around a collection of worms, lizards, and random bugs in a dump truck.
He enjoys picnics in the woods where he’s laid out over a blanket with another person that pets through his hair or over his back and face.
Frequently when playing he acts out a lot of things that happened during his life. Mostly traumatic things because it helps him finally process through some of it since he never got to as a child.
Because of this though he frequently breaks his toys and upsets himself, needing a carer he actually believes would tell him the truth to reassure/comfort him.
Sometimes he just needs to be allowed to break every toy, crayon, tv, comfort item he can see then just… cry in the dirt for a while.
The more he does it the shorter the breakdown and recovery takes afterwards.
Pulls plastic dinosaurs out of his pocket and tries to hand them to people like they’re illegal. (What’s your poison? Triceratops? Nice.)
Padded Regressor!Carmen Berzatto! Headcannons and Story
AO3 vers
He started using them because he had an accident at home. He’d been distracted and worked up into a whirlwind of cooking, trying to figure out a recipe that he literally hadn't gone to the bathroom all day. And his brain has a habit of forcing him to regress when he reaches his breaking point. But usually that only happened at home.
Until he had the accident.
Then he kept stressing at work, worrying so much that it would happen… that it happened again. Luckily he was the last one at the restaurant when it did happen so no one found out but from that point forward he started wearing protection at work for… just in case.
He figured out that wearing them means he actually “saves on time” (woah like a whole 5-10 minutes of his day.)... but that only feeds into his stress about time management.
Sydney is probably the one to notice he isn't ever leaving the kitchen first who mentions it to Sugar who complains about her concern about him not taking breaks to Richie… and Richie is the first to figure out the actual reason why because… well he's not afraid of a little confrontation with his cousin.
After he finds out though he ends up helping Carm because as a dad he is not about to let some moronic little kid not take care of himself because Carmen doesn't really know what he's doing.
He throws on a diaper then throws it away at the end of the day when he takes a shower.
Richie ends up enjoying the whole thing a little more than he thought he would. At first its like ‘oh no this is going to be a really annoying burden but i care for my family’ however is very quickly a ‘Carmen looks the cutest in the blue ones but this one has a built in tail and i think it would be deathly cute to play dinosaurs with him if he had the tail.”
He didn't used to wear them when he voluntarily regressed but now that he's used them more frequently he's learned he likes the comfort beyond his “saving time” reason.
When he’s regressed he's the kid that never wears pants over them once he's comfortable with it. He's one step away from running around naked and giving Richie gray hairs.
The packs of diapers are often stored in the oven right next to his jeans.
—
word count: 2563
cw: diapers, cussing, show aligned arguing (but they love each other i swear.), some feelings of shame and embarrassment, a little fighting but in a sibling like way, mentions of rashes, diaper change but no explicit details. it follows the headcannons.
“What’s fuck do you mean you’ve been wearing these for a month! I knew your ass wasn’t using the damn bathroom! I told Sugar— I told her you weren’t leaving the kitchen all day! She said you were just dehydrated but I knew— but I didn’t realize you were wearing diapers so you didn’t have to take breaks like a normal person! Oooh you just wait until I tattle on your ass!”
“No! No! Richie you can’t— i-it wastes time! And—“
“Everybody pisses and shits and— everyone takes bathroom breaks, Carmen! It’s a legal obligation!”
“I just— I can’t— every second—“
“Don’t you use that bullshit sign as an excuse. That’s not what it's meant for and you know it.”
“Fine! I.. I can’t.. can’t—“ He throws his hands up in frustration and they ultimately find their way into his hair to tug on in frustration. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me! I get so focused on work that I can’t take a break until it’s perfect! Or I feel like I’m…” a failure. A bad chef. A horrible person. A disappointment. “Like the whole restaurant will close down if any of the dishes that go out end up anything less than… than the perfection I know I’m capable of.”
“That’s fucking OCD, Carmen! Get a therapist!“
“I don’t want a fucking therapist!”
“No you’d rather just piss your pants at work, huh?”
“It’s better than the acci—!” He started to yell back but instantly knew he fucked up with the look Richie shot him, his hands fall to his sides and his volume falls with it. “A..cc..idents…”
“The what?”
“I..I-I told you I.. focus so hard on my work that I don’t.. I don’t notice anything else. It’s like… tunnel vision and.. I wasn’t.. really.. taking care of myself.”
“You— how do you— how does a grown man not visit the bathroom once at work and not realize his bladder is trying to fucking explode?” He shakes his head, scoffing sourly. “What am I saying? You’re the same man that didn’t eat a meal for like three days because you were too busy cooking for others to cook for yourself. Of course you’ve had ‘accidents’. You’re a mess.”
Carmen’s face was red with anger and shame, looking down at his hands as he picked at his nails. He hated doing that. He hated that stupid habit. He liked his nails neat. But Richie had him so worked up he was making them a terrible mess and he couldn’t stop to look up at him. Or maybe that was just the shame keeping him from meeting his cousin’s gaze after he’d just learned the two probably most embarrassing things about him.
Richie takes a few minutes, leaning on the counter with his face in his hands as he tries to get a grasp on the situation without trying to beat some sense into Carmen. That wouldn’t solve anything. The kid’s OCD wouldn’t leave him after a punch square to his stupid little jaw… but it would feel really satisfying for Richie.
“So… okay. You’re wearing diapers. Because you refuse to take breaks—“
“Not on purpose–“
“Shut up, Carm. I’m talking.” He shuts him down instantly, not wanting to hear the explanations or excuses anymore right now. “You’re wearing them. You’re not taking breaks..”
Richie runs his hands down his face, turning his head to look at Carmy with an exasperated… absolutely exhausted dad look. “I mean… you’re telling me you managed to unpotty-train yourself?”
“No– no! I… sometimes it– I read online that– it happens when… someone–”
“Has a load of trauma so heavy it cripples their body–”
“To regressors! I was going to say it happens to fucking…” he takes a deep breath and sighs out his next words, leaning over the counter opposite of Richie as he starts to give out. Not just on the argument and defending himself but also keeping all these secrets only to himself. “..age regressors…”
“Wh.. what the hell is that shit? Age regressors?” Richie was only feeling more and more stressed as this went on because no matter how he came off sometimes he wasn't stupid. He could break down the two words and fit em back together but he didnt… even so it didnt click to him. “You talkin magic now? OCD? Or just… talking about your skills dipping? Cause you know we can’t survive if you have moments you can't cook– and we certainly don't do that magic haunted ghosty shit–”
“What? The fuck are you talking about? How did you get magic from age–” Carmen waves his hand as he shakes his head and drops the question. They would just go in circles forever if he didn't just move on. “No. It's like… mental state. Adult to… something younger. It's not… always voluntary–the stress triggers it but I can usually like…cook on autopilot so it doesn't affect my work that much but… my body doesnt… seem to… i cant get it to–”
Richie squinted at him as he takes a moment to think it over then interrupts him, “To stay on adult autopilot too.”
“Exactly…!”
“Heard. So… you didn't unpotty-train yourself on purpose.”
“I keep telling you no!”
“No I mean– you didn't do it. This mental age thing did.” Carmy wanted to correct him but he just gives up on it and shrugs with a half committed nod, it was about as close to being right as Richie would probably be able to understand without experiencing it. “You get too stressed at work. Age regress. Keep working. Piss your pants.”
Carm buried his face in his hands, leaning further on the counter until he let go of his head to press his forehead against the counter top. The constant reminder of wetting himself felt so exhausting and humiliating. “...rinse and repeat.”
“Actual rinse?”
He barely peeked up at Richie to silently ask, ‘what the fuck does that mean?’
“Changes, Carm. Cleaning off. Putting a new one on.”
“What are you asking me?”
As a dad that had changed countless diapers when his daughter was young, his warning lights were going off in his mind over his little cousin’s responses the more he soaked in the idea of him having been using protection like that. If Carm hadn't been leaving the kitchen all day… was he just working in soaked padding for hours? That… would be horrible for his skin. “How often are you changing them?”
“Wha.. I– you can't ask that!” Carm threw his hands out at Richie's audacity, fumbling over his words as he struggled to even form an answer to that in his mind.
“The hell I can't. Did you even change once today?”
As the chef continues to stumble over an answer, Richie loses his patience and starts to round the counter, intent on just looking for himself. But Carm catches on quickly and backs away from the counter, watching him with unease.
“Okay– wait– hold on a moment, cousin–” Richie stops for only a second to give Carm once last chance to convince him he was taking care of himself but when the chef only stumbles over his words again, shuffling one foot back like he was thinking of booking it– Richie surged forward.
Sprinting after him, Carmen does the only thing a kid would do and tucks tail, running to escape the kitchen before he would be wrestled to the floor in the same manner his brother and Richie used to do to him as kids. “Dontchu run from me, mister! Get your rashy ass back here!”
“Jesus christ– you fuckin jagoff– leave it alone!” They weave through the empty dining hall, knocking over a few chairs and vases on the tables like a bunch of rowdy unsupervised kids.
“I will not! You know how hard it was to heal diaper rashes with Evie?! I am not letting our top chef continue to have meltdowns because he wont change his wet– ass!” Carm manages to get a table between the two of them, Richie unable to reach across and grab him or round it without the kid moving to keep the same distance. He grits his teeth as they hold there in a tense standoff, waiting for the other’s move. In a dirty surprise maneuver Richie grabs the table’s vase and splashes Carm in the face with the water and flowers, distracting him long enough for him to round the table and tackle him to the ground.
Carmen grunts and kicks around under him while Richie practically claws around to get a hold on any part of his clothes, aiming for his pants but it was difficult with Carm flailing around and shoving his hands away.
“Cut it out–!”
“Stop it–!”
“Ack– not the face, you–”
“Dont you fuckin spit at–”
Richie finally manages to just roll Carm onto his stomach, yanking down the back of his jeans while he tries to crawl away. The diaper had definitely been used but they already knew that and it was no longer his focus. He needed to see the damage to his skin.
He gets his pants low enough to see some of the rash he had guessed would be there peeking out onto his thighs, angry and bright pink. He swats away Carm’s hand that came back to stop him then moves off his legs to sit on his back, keeping him pinned down better so he could lift the back of the diaper just enough to check.
Carm grumbles out insults to make the devil’s chef blush and whines unhappily through the whole thing but Rich paid him no mind when he was looking at an absolutely heinous diaper rash.
“Jeeeesus, cousin… you genuinely might need antibiotics.”
“Dont be ridiculous–”
“No im not fuckin with you. It looks awful. Doesn't it hurt?”
Carmen huffed a little and grumpily laid his head on his arms as he waited for this to be over so he could get some dignity back by pulling his jeans up. “.. a little.”
“Have you put anything on it?”
“Like what?”
“Rash cream moron!”
“No! It's not that bad! It'll go away!”
“Course you haven't. It doesn't look like you even have any powder or any barrier cream. Nothin to keep your skin from staying wet." He spoke like this was common knowledge for everyone and Carmen was stupid for not knowing any of this. But truth was Richie hadn't known about any of it either until he had been a dad.
Richie stops peeking in the back of the diaper and stands off the kid, reaching down to help him stand up which he begrudgingly accepts but when he goes to pull his pants up, the man stops him. “No. Leave em. You're gettin a change now.”
“B– hu– wha– by you?!” Richie nods while giving him one of those stupid faces with a mocking ‘uh huh’ noises, “no! No way! I-I don’t even– I don't have those things you were talking about anyway!”
“Well I'm not leaving you to wet rot until you get home! And just being dry even without rash cream is better than doing nothing." He grabs his arm and begins to drag him back to the office space, having seen earlier today that Carm had left his backpack in there. He stumbles a bit with his pants still partially down his legs, annoyed that his pseudo family member hadn't let him pull them up and he was tugging him along too fast for him to get them up now.
He shoves Carm into the office and locks the door just in case the other decided to brave a run for it, risking another wrestling match that both of them were probably too old to still be doing. He looks around until he finds the bag and all but rips it open to find any supplies but there's just one diaper sadly crumpled down at the bottom like he had been trying to hide it.
Richie pulls it out, dropping the bag to the floor as he looks at Carm with worse disbelief. “Seriously? That's all?” With a bit of shame and a whole lot of embarrassment, Carm shrugs and looks away, fidgeting with his nails again to keep him from looking at the other. Richie rolls his eyes and scoffs, having to leave the office just to go get paper towels to clean him with, griping at him when he passes by to “stay put.”
He thought about making a run for it, just going straight home to pretend like none of this ever happened, then come in tomorrow and never speak to Richie ever again. He reeeeeally thought about it. But… some part of him must be craving for another person to help him. Take a little off his plate and… just… care for him in the ways he didn't.
So when Richie came back he just quietly laid down on the floor like Richie ordered him too and stayed mostly still while he got to work methodically changing him like it was some everyday occurrence for him. He undid the tapes and opened it up taking a few moments to simply take in the rashed skin with a disapproving head shake that was fully derived from love and concern.
He uncrumples the fresh diaper and helps Carm hold his butt up long enough to switch the two out so he was laying over the clean one for when Richie gets to work using damp paper towels to clean him off… which was the worst part for Carm. He squirmed a lot more and complained under his breath as he kept his gaze fixated on the ceiling tiles, not realizing until he wasn't the one in control of cleaning the sore areas just how much some of the spots hurt.
Surprisingly Richie didn't chastise him for it or even make fun of him. He was too focused on his work of making sure every part of his skin that had been touching the wet fabric was clean. Once he’s finally done… he then dries him off very carefully by dabbing at the skin with some try towels and taping the new diaper on. It seemed odd to Carmen how easy it was for him to do all of that. Sure he had the experience but that was with a much much smaller kid and… Carmen always found it really difficult to get it tapped closed in a comfortable way, usually giving up and just accepting it in any way as long as it kept him protected. Richie also… did it quickly. Very quickly. Even the cleaning was done in a shocking amount of time…
Richie wiped off his hands with one of the last clean damp paper towels then put all the trash inside the dirty diaper before rolling it closed to throw away. He gives the diaper a gentle dad’s ‘that's not going anywhere’ pat before helping Carm tug his jeans up.
“You know you're not doing this alone anymore right?” Richie asks him after a beat of silence when he sits up, neither one of them fully meeting each other's eyes for the heartfelt moment. There was just something about it that their families couldn't seem to handle.
“...yeah.” Carm nods, his voice quiet and… less… ashamed or alone sounding.
Hii I really like your contact and your HC about the boys agere and I was wondering if you can do cg!black nori x little!reader (if you already did just let me know) HC
Ty!!
CG!Black Noir with Little!Reader
(this was wrote as original Noir not replacement Noir and is for that period of time as well. reader's gender is unspecified.)
Has specifically cute and childish ASL signs or communications cards meant just for you. A lot of his cards are just pictures he drew rather than actual words.
He likes to draw with crayons alongside you– but he will not fix the way he holds his crayons. He fists them as if he's a toddler himself. No matter how many times you try to teach him different ways of holding/writing with them.
He has a few copies of his suit and helmet but his favorite one to wear out is the one you covered in stickers.
The only one who ever says anything about it is Homelander who goes back and forth between annoyed and soft adoration. (he is totally NOT jealous. He definitely likes seeing his “best” friend happy. Even if it's a kind of happy he has never seen or managed to cause Noir to have before. Absolutely definitively NOT jealous.)
Will answer your calls at literally any time no matter what mission or thing he’s in the middle of. He doesn't contribute to those conversations, he just likes to listen to you babble to him while he works.
Really enjoys watching cartoons with you no matter what they are. Not that outwardly appears as joy with his lack of emoting… but you've learned how to read a decent amount of his behaviors and what they mean. And him sitting there right beside you never letting his eyes off the screen other than to check on you (often to see your reaction to what just happened on the show), it all lets you know that he’s enjoying himself.
He's so patient and gentle. The same way he is with his mascot hallucination friends. He holds your hands for a lot of things like walking across the street or when he walks around the tower with you. He covers your eyes during scary parts of movies or when going past irl dead bodies.
If his regressor is particularly little or clumsy like babies usually are, he's fantastic at catching them and/or simply picking them up off the floor and setting them back on their feet an innumerous amount of times.
He does the same for the “pick up” game that kids like to play. No matter how many times you drop a toy on the floor for him he picks it up and gives it back to you to do again.
He’ll play video games with you if you're an older regressor but he's not very good at them. At least not fighting games. Throw him into a cozy game and you’d be surprised at how many hours he’ll log in to tend to y’all’s farm or building houses.
He has a bit of an outdated way of handling tantrums or meltdowns which is partially because he can't talk you through them but mostly because it's what he knows from his job.
He will restrain you from being able to hurt yourself and hold you there until you've calmed down enough to let go then pull you into a hug. He won’t fully get that restraint like that can make you panic worse unless you tell him.
But once you do, he won't do it again, feeling a deep shame and guilt for “hurting his best friend” that he struggles to get over. Next time he just anxiously rattles a toy in front of you in the hope it will somehow distract you enough to calm down.
He is proficient at diaper changes if needed but on the same note something like hair washing, skin care, or bath time is a mess. Best he can do is pour a lot of bubbles in the water then sit in the water with you (full suit of course) while holding a rubber duck. (he has a lot of bath toys. Even before he met you)
He’s both very responsible with caregiving and doing most things needed to keep you safe but some things time has made him irresponsible with, based on how it's affected his morality/sense of danger.
Like handling meltdowns or bath time…. or thinking certain dangerous things are totally safe for a kid to do supervised while stopping you from doing actual safe things because he’s convinced it's bad.
Such as playing around in his childhood abandoned pizza joint or annoyingly tugging at homelander’s cape the entire meeting you didn’t have clearance for is totally fine with him but cutting up your own food with a kids’ knife is so not okay and he has to be the one to do it for you.
Speaking of the old Buster Beaver’s Pizza Restaurant, after he took you there once, it seemed to open up the floodgate of opportunities to explore more abandoned buildings and locations with him (if you like to anyway).
He’s great security while you investigate and run around leaving you more carefree.
His favorite abandoned places you two have gone to is arcades. Enough so he tried to take you to an active public arcade but the owner said Noir scared too many of the kids off so he will occasionally break in after hours with you so you have the whole place to yourselves (he does realistically have the funds to just… rent the place out but breaking in was faster.)
He likes the abandoned arcades better because he feels like they're less haunted.
If you're christian/catholic he can be convinced to go to weekend church with you since that's something he grew up with and does miss. However he’d rather stay and listen from the baby room with you at the very very back of the church where no one will see him since his appearance–along with the things he’s done in life as a hero– makes him feel like he’s turned his back on his god. Or like god has perhaps turned his back on him. His feelings are very complicated on it but he’d brave them for you if you gave him a bridge back.
He’s fully willing to participate in any other religious practices as well, christianity is just what he grew up with.
You want to put bindi on him after you put on yours? Okay. He'll wear it on his mask as long as it stays and you want him to.
You follow Dhuhr and pray five times a day? Get him a matching prayer rug and he’ll follow your lead.
He’ll leave little trinkets or candies on your alter as offerings before missions after watching you do it enough times.
Even if he doesn't have the same religion the practices make him feel a little better and closer to his own. He also simply likes participating in your interests.
He enjoys teaching you some of his interests as well. He mostly focuses on the piano with you, letting you sit beside him and press the keys after he plays them until you’ve gone through a whole song. He doesn't mind if you can't remember them later or never figure out how to read sheet music. It's his hobby after all and you're regressed. But he would be a bit delighted to play a duet with you.
Caring for you can help him feel like he’s doing a good in the world. Like what he originally wanted to do in his career and had sort of… lost sight of. It makes him feel a little less like he’s just a mindless (half literally) robotic soldier doing whatever he’d told.
It's also nice that someone else fully trusts him to have full responsibility over caring for them when so many other people treat him like his head injury completely destroyed his ability to be a good caregiver. You two regularly get looks and comments about whether he’s up to par or if you “really trust him of all people? Or did you just settle?”
But of course you trust and want him as your person! He may be a little “unconventional” at times however… he's your best friend.
