#but today i feel good enough to draw again | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

swee7dream · 2 days

Note

haii!!! i saw u posted the 127 masterlist im SO excited to see what u write for them (and wayv in the near future)

could u write cg! yuta w a little!f! reader whos regressing around him for the first timr... thatd be cute methinks :3 thank u for ur time and consideration

- @aeriaeri

greetings and introductions cg!yuta x reader

genres agere content, established relationship, fluff warnings i wrote about watching a movie i've never seen before, indirect mention of yuta as an idol dni if you sexualize age regression word count 1802

Yuta has done lots of hard things in his life. Really hard things.

He’s traveled to a foreign country with nothing but a dream and a Japanese-to-Korean dictionary. He’s lived all of his adult life in front of a camera and under the harsh criticisms of the internet. He’s watched his friends (read: Haechan and Taeyong) live-react to his acting projects in person.

But no matter what he’s experienced in the past, it’s always the now that feels the most threatening and terrifying. Now that he’s standing outside of your door, Yuta feels his heart in his throat and his stomach and coming out of his-

The undoing of your lock pulls him out of his thoughts, gulping and clutching the large stuffed animal he ordered a couple of days ago closer to his chest.

He hopes you like him.

“Hey.” You don’t look at him in the eyes when you open the door, only step back for him to come in. “How was the trip?”

“Fine. Good.” He clears his throat into his free hand as he steps in, looking around your place. It’s not as if he hasn’t been here before. He’s come over several times, the number of sleepovers innumerable in his mind. “You?”

It’s a Sunday, you have no reason to be out at all today. Still, you answer, relocking the door as he takes off his shoes and places them next to yours.

“Fine too. Take a seat,” you invite, shuffling your way to the kitchen. “I’m getting a glass of water. You want one?”

“I’ll take a coke if you have any.”

“You got it.”

You take the bottle from the fridge, still as full as the last time your boyfriend came over because you hate how the carbonation bites the inside of your throat when it goes down. You’re careful when pouring it, the light foam takes over more and more of the glass until it nearly overflows, the soda itself filling only about 20% of the glass.

As you wait for the bubbles to fizzle out so you can pour again, Yuta takes a spot on your couch. He’s stiff as a doll, feeling almost strange that his knees didn’t creak when he sat down. This apartment that has your scent and all your belongings, it’s the same but oh so different all at once. He feels almost stupid for not noticing all these little things before.

Under his feet is the fluffy green rug with no table over it, left open for napping and drawing and crafting. It’s an incomplete picture, being able to see your figure in his mind but not any details because… he hasn’t met you yet. Not this side of you that you’ve shown to a number of people you could count on one hand.

“Babe.”

The bottle of Coca-Cola is back in the fridge and you’re standing in front of him now. It’s the first time you meet each other’s eyes today and the anxieties of the past 24 hours seem to flow out through the spaces in his teeth, revealed when he smiles.

Your standing in between his legs gives him the perfect chance to wrap his arms around your torso and pull you close enough for him to rest his chin on your tummy.

“I missed you,” he says.

“I missed you too,” you reply, feeling somewhat cocky at the familiar lovesick look on Yuta’s face. He makes you feel loved and loveable. It’s strange, but you can’t help but want to monopolize that expression to only you like a dragon with its hoard of treasure. “Can you take your soda now? My hand is freezing.”

“Mmm… can’t I just hold you a little longer? Please?” he whines, dropping his nose to tickle your stomach.

“You can hold me on the couch, you big baby.”

You hear mumbles of ‘it’s not the same’ but he relents, taking the glass from you so you can curl up next to him, throwing the blanket folded over the back of the sofa on your lap when you begin feeling cold. The doll Yuta brought is crushed between the couch arm and his side when he scooches over to make room for you to lay next to him.

“I’m nervous,” you admit, cheek on his upper arm.

That gets a hum of confusion from him, echoing out from the glass as he drinks.

“Why?”

“What if I scare you off? What if you’re, like, ‘yeah no, I’m checking out of this freakshow.’?”

“’I’m checking out of this freakshow’?” He smiles and you can’t help but break too. It’s ridiculous for him to say that, especially to you of all people, but it usually takes expressing your anxieties aloud to re-realize that.

“…anyway. Put on something on the TV.” You tap him gently.

“Cirque de Soleil?”

“You’re annoying.”

“Moulin Rouge?”

“If you don’t-”

“Oh, I got it! Dumbo.” He struggles for a moment before pulling the soft plush doll of a gray elephant in his hand. He holds it like an award with a grin so wide you wouldn’t have guessed his heart is nearly beating out of his chest, hoping he didn’t push you when you’re not ready yet.

You glare at him for a good five seconds in silence, the tilt of his head faking innocence.

“Do what you want.” You sigh at his smugness, gently taking the toy into your hands, your thumbs coursing over the fur before holding it close.

“I always do, baby.” Your face is peppered in kisses that taste like coke. “You like it?”

“It’s okay.”

—

The original 1941 motion picture Dumbo is considered one of the studio's shortest animated films at 64 minutes long. It doesn’t take long for the two of you to get comfortable, ten minutes in fact.

Around 20 minutes in, Yuta called for the smart home assistant to turn the lights down and give you a smirk (“What a thoughtful gift! I wonder who was so considerate so as to buy you something like that.”). Around minute 42 is when he notices how quiet you’ve gotten, looking over to see you with your thumb’s nail in between your teeth and a twinkle his mind is trying to help him recall in his memories in your unblinking, focused eyes.

He’s seen it before, when you went to the amusement park, playing carnival games; and the times you’ve gone to the mall, walking past the toy stores.

“You okay, baby?”

“Okay…” you mumble in response.

The person who is not okay is him. Once again he’s stiffened up. The realization that you’ve probably slipped in front of him has his heart in his throat again. It’s not like the other times, this time he knows what’s going through your mind and you don’t have to push down your instincts. He’s not going to mess this up for you, he promised to himself.

—

Yuta doesn’t know how to not mess this up, he realizes a minute later. So he chooses to not do or say anything at all unless you ask him to. It’s a good strategy, he comes to discover.

As the credits roll, you begin to speak, Yuta takes note of its softness, the rhythm your words have different than usual. You’re still you, obviously, but he can’t help but think about how truly different the air around you has become, as if there were another person that you shared a body with and he can’t help but love just as much as he does you.

“Like Dumbo’s mama. ‘s a good mama.”

“…yeah. She sure is, baby.”

“Wish I had a mama like Dumbo’.”

“Why’s that?”

”She just so nice. She beats up all o’ Dumbo’s mean bullies and doesn’ even blame him when she goes to lelephant jail.”

“She is pretty nice,” he agrees, eyes crinkling at your attempt at the word ‘elephant’. “You know what? I want to be like Dumbo’s mama too. I wanna protect you just like she does her baby.”

“Yuta wanna be my mama?”

“Well, I’m a boy, baby.” He laughs, gazing softly at the genuine twinkle in your eyes. “…but I can be your mama. Anytime you want me to.”

“Mean it?”

“Yeah, baby. Of course I mean it.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Pinky promise?”

The moment makes him smile. This is you, the one who manages to console him even though he’s the one who had to cancel your date. The one who brings him coffee at crazy hours when not even the sun is awake. The one he introduced to his family with his chest puffed out and never regretted since.

But it’s also not.

This is a part of you that hasn’t gone through any of those things yet and does not worry about things like gas prices or separating whites from colored. At this moment, when the credits to Dumbo roll on the TV and rain begins to hit the windows of the apartment, you’re a brand new canvas. Right here, right now, it’s as if none of the bad things that you’ve gone through ever happened and he’s able to block them out from happening again for you.

Loosening your grip on the elephant plushie you hold tight to your chest, Yuta slips his hand into yours and locks your pinky fingers. To seal the oath, he brings your hand up to his lips, still connected with his.

“Pinky promise.”

“So nice to me. I love you lots.” You sigh satisfactorily, your turn to rub your nose on him like he did less than two hours ago. “But Yuta not a mama.”

His fingers settle on the top of your head, dark eyebrows raised when he looks down at you, eyes shut with tiredness.

“No?”

“No.” You mumble into his shirt. “Dun’ like it. Want ‘nother name.”

“What if I like Mama?” He whispers, trying not to wake you from this half-submersion you’re in inside Morpheus’ arms. His bottom lip pouts out, trying to replicate just how adorable you look to him, fully aware of how he could never compare.

“No.”

“Aw man. Okay, baby. We’ll figure out another name for me another time okay? Why don’t you close those pretty eyes for me right now?”

“Yuta stay?”

“Yuta’ll stay. I’ll see you tomorrow, baby.”

“T’morrow…”

“Tomorrow…”

author's note this was difficult to execute. age regression from an outsider's point of view is not easy to describe ... still, i hope it was an enjoyable read ! constructive criticism and feedback is appreciated in all my works but especially this one (⸝⸝⸝>﹏<⸝⸝⸝)

#kpop agere #agere sfw #cg!nct 127 #cg!127 #cg!nakamoto yuta #cg!yuta #nct x little!reader #little!reader #kpop little space #sfw littlespace #agere kpop #yuta fluff #yuta x reader #nakamoto yuta x reader

40 notes · View notes

todayisafridaynight · 1 year

Note

WHAT DO YOU MEAAANNN "MID" THAT COMIC GOES SO HARD AND NOT FOR ANYTHING... THAT WAS MY FIRST THOUGHT VERBATIM... THIS GOES HARD. Incredibly effective composition and symbolism and use of values and shadow on the first page ESPECIALLY (I would love to hear what the third eye symbolizes as mentioned in your tags :) ) but. But. But like. Masato being Arakawa's comfort and not recognizing it and certainly not remembering it when he's older... despite how much it means to Arakawa in the moment... owwww owwie

I was gonna ramble about how much it hits home to depict Yoko as non-human because the nightmares that have stuck with the most about my mom were like that But Enough Of That We Get It... at any rate, as always, take care and I hope you get some good news soon!

thank you so much ♪(´▽｀) !! it generally felt like somethin i dont really post (but horror/blood is something i really love and love to draw), so its why i was especially excited to share it and see what people thought: im glad people like it from what i see (❁´◡`❁) ! and im glad the lack of color wasn't anything detrimental- it might have worked better in this instance. maybe.

i dont ever 'title' things per say since i feel weird doin it BUT i guess captions serve as the title sometimes. so the caption 'matrophobia' is really ironic with that whole aspect in relation to masato being arakawa's Everything: on the one hand, it can just be a general fear of your mother, but on the other hand it could also be the fear of becoming like your mother. if i ever intended to go through with a jo variant, 'patrophobia' would for sure be the title with that ambiguity in mind, but (and i suppose in both instances) with this its more ironic here since masato is the one who ends up the most like his parents' abusers- which ultimately just makes things more bittersweet in that moment dont it (´▽｀ ;;;) on top of masato being arakawa's comfort, it's not just masato himself being the only reason: tying back into the alt. meaning of matrophobia, it's also a relief for arakawa in that he didn't turn out like his mother- which, again, makes everything so bittersweet in the end. its like spiders in my brain when it comes to that whole aspect in regards to the arakawa family's history and dynamics...... it makes me insane to be blunt ☠️

ah but yeah ! i decided to make her an actual perceivable monster so people who. DON'T. have issues with either of their parents could get a better feeling of what it is like to have a troublesome parent/s (id rather see wolves in my dreams than my mom on that note- even if they were going to bite my face off ( ´◡` ;;; ) ). i ran out of tags before i could make any more notes i had while drawing （；´x｀） but i do have more and i'll be glad to explain the missing eye bit ! under the cut since it'll just be me rambling bout symbolism ig and its gonna get long (´▽｀;;; )

when it came to the third/center eye being missing specifically, i did it in relation to how the third eye can relate to enlightenment or higher knowledge. definitely just as a result of projection, but its cause all the time when i was growing up my mom would not only assert and act as if Her Way Was The Right Way and that she knew everything, but that i should only go to her if i needed help and no one else could help me- hence it being missing being a reflection of how that notion isn't true (or always true i should say). as en extension, it's also a dig at how enlightened persons are supposed to help others reach enlightenment- yk, guide them. yet, again, in this case, they're only doing harm.

that's all for the third eye bit, but also just some other things i didnt have room to ramble bout last post: i had her lips be torn away to constantly show her fangs since. well. i dont have to explain it i guess: its just meant to highlight the never ending feeling of danger when around her (and the promise of danger). her nose being gone is purposeful too: in animals, the smell of your family's significant and it helps you find out Which One Is Yours right. in her nose being gone- again, more projection and personal problems on my part- it's a way to emphasize the separation between mother and child: 'you're no longer my kid anymore, i can't even recognize your scent'. of course, that's only to the mother: she is the only one no longer able to say they're family because she can't smell that shared scent anymore. in reality, they could very much smell the same, it's just the mother's unwilling to accept that anymore.

i know i mentioned the flowers in my initial post, but her wearing a flower shirt really was convenient since it allowed me to add those thorns and vines. when you have a troublesome parent like that, the feeling of not just being trapped is there, but it's painful- it's not something you can deal with quietly. even if you're not interacting with the parent directly, the thought of their presence or the unfortunate thoughts that come about as a result of having been around them so long are a constant thorn in the side. if i may make a pun ( ´uゝ` )

alright NOW i think i've covered everything i wanted to. without all the symbolism aside, i hope she at least looks grotesque for people to enjoy without the added thought- and i hope i didn't overdue it. in any case im glad you enjoyed it !! i hope you'll enjoy the next comic i get out (❁´◡`❁) if i ever start it and i dont abandon it midway through ( ❁´◡`❁ ;;;)

#long post #snap chats #every day i think of the nice tags someone left about how they really love analyzing my comics so ive tried to put more effort into them #im glad its payin off ♪(´▽｀) i hope ♪(´▽｀;;; )#ALSO OOPS I RAMBLED VERY LONG #my sister told me to go to therapy but therapy's expensive and i already know what my problem is so this is close enough ig LMAO #in that sorry for turning you into my therapist（＞人＜；）it wont happen again. ill still complain bout my life tho LMAO just not so directly #did i have anything else i want to add..... ill think over it carefully this time unlike last time so i dont type an essay again #OH I REMEMBERED buddhism is. crucial to me #its always weird to refer to buddhism as a religion imo and i dont like to label myself anyhow so i wont confidently say im buddhist #plus id feel ashamed for calling myself one when im such a sporadic person ☠️☠️#but ive followed it for years and i turn to it whenever im in especial peril and i generally keep it in mind when. Existing #so thats an extra personal reason for the third eye bit #alright NOW im done speaking (*￣▽￣*) now lets see if i actually draw today ☠️☠️#i hope i get good news soon.. if not this ask was definitely lovely to get so i'll be fine i think- so thank you again for writing ! (❁´◡`❁

3 notes · View notes