🌙 angel baby 🌙

hi hi !! i'm ellie :)

my big age is 18 and my little age is anywhere between 0-2, sometimes leaning toward 3

i'm a huge tf2 fan, but i'm in other fandoms like mlp, mandalorian, markiplier, obx, and the mcu

i'm also a writer and i make edits/moodboards :0 my requests are open rn, so feel free to send them my way <3

dni: nsfw/kink accounts

Masterlist

who i write for/what i will write

rules:

no nsfw, no ageplay/petplay, no kink (like ddlg), no dark topics (yandere, SA, abuse)

this is such a cute idea i want to have a playdate with pyro :(

warnings: none!

Thinking carefully, you eye out the perfect place to stick your last sticker on your dresser drawer, your tongue sticking out of your mouth as you analyze the surface.

Just as you're about to put it on, you hear a knock at the door to your room. "Who is?" you ask, not wanting to be distracted from your task.

"Huddah huddah!"

Hearing the muffled exclamation, you instantly jump up from your spot on the floor, rushing to open the door. There stands Pyro, holding on tight to a bunny plushie as they greet you with a little wave.

"Py!" you shout, wrapping your arms around them. Pyro hugs back with one arm, the other occupied by the bunny.

"Mmph mfph mmph mh!" they squeak out from behind their mask, and your eyes light up, a little gasp let out.

"A tea party? Right now? But 'm not even in a good outfit.." you trail off, looking down. "Help me pick one out?" you ask Pyro, who claps and squeals in response.

You fling your closet door open to reveal the plethora of outfits, from overalls to pants to hats. The two of you begin flinging articles around, trying on different combinations.

Pyro adjusts a wide-brimmed sunhat on their head, adorning themselves with a large trenchcoat before twirling, earning a giggle from you as you approve of the getup.

"Okay, now my turn." you shove on a pair of pants you stole from Medic, way too big on you. They slouch down as you reach for a Hawaiian shirt you've discovered crumpled in the back, bright orange and covered in a palm tree pattern.

You both stand in the mirror, admiring yourselves and spinning around and around in your new clothing, feeling accomplished.

"Mmfph mh mph mmfph!" Pyro mumbles out, grabbing on to your hand and all but dragging you down the hallway to their room. "Mmph mfph!" They push the door open to their living quarters to reveal a circular plastic purple table, surrounded by matching chairs.

Each of the chairs are filled with a stuffed animal friend, save for two empty ones on opposite sides. The center of the table is covered in miscellaneous cups, different sizes and shapes, filled with mystery red liquid.

You gaze to the floor to see several empty, somewhat crushed cans of Bonk! soda. "Did you take those from Scout?" you ask, giggling, and Pyro frantically nods their head, tugging on your hand to lead you to the table.

They pull out a chair for you "Hmmph mmph mfph hmph!" Pyro says as they pull out a chair. You curtsy at them, using the wide legs of the pants to stretch out, then sit politely in your spot.

Pyro sits giddily in the chair opposite of you, and the both of you hold your pinkies out as you take sips from the bubbly substance in the cups, Pyro's hitting their mask and dribbling down the front of their suit.

You both laugh and begin chattering with each other in British accents between fits of giggles, enjoying your tea party. Pyro tells you about all the bugs they've caught, and shows you one in a jar, and you tell them about your large collection of stickers, pulling one from your pocket and placing it on their forehead.

Suddenly, you hear a voice from the hallway.

"Aye, has anyone seen where my Bonk! went?"

Could I ask this time for a regressor Demoman? If possible with a Mama caregiver? Please and Tysm!!!

— @thetinyblossom 🌸

ofc hon! i hope i did your ask justice, i'm not a cg myself and have never written from that perspective! he's about 3-4 in this :)

warnings: mentions of shouting, use of "mama"/"ma", fem!reader

Slowly, you raised your hands in front of your face.

"Where'd mama go? Where's mama?" you asked, earning giggles in response. You uncovered your face, met with Demo's big grin, reaching out to grab your fingers. "Peekaboo!" you exclaim, and he rolls over, laughing.

"More, ma, more!" he shouts, a little too loud.

"Indoor voices, bub, please." you gently remind him, tickling his sides as he squeals. "We've played a lot of that game. You hungry, bud? We haven't had lunch yet."

Demo's eyes light up hearing the word "lunch", his stomach instantly growling. "Pease, mama?" he asks so sweetly, and you smile.

"Let's go then. You be the leader, show me to the kitchen." You give him a task, his favorite. He giddily stands, stumbling his way to grab on to your hand and toddling forward with you in tow.

You watch him closely as he tries to figure out where the kitchen is, scratching his head before making a quick left turn, almost smacking into the wall. You shoot your hand out to protect his head as he bumps into it.

"Owie." Demo mutters to himself as he sways, but continues on, determined to get to his destination. You know how much he loves his little adventures, so you don't bother saying anything when he opts to go the long way around, eventually looping into the kitchen.

"We did it, ma, is kitchen!" he points happily into the room, and you nod.

"Good job, buddy! I'll give you a gold star later for that one. You wanna get up on the chair yourself or you want mama's help?" you ask him, pulling out one of the kitchen chairs that's around the nearby table.

"I do it, 'm big boy." he declares proudly, using the seat as leverage as he lifts a leg over the chair and sits himself in it. Demo reaches out as far as he can over the surface area of the table and spreads his hands, patting at the wood.

You chuckle and shake your head, opening the silverware drawer and giving him two spoons to play with to keep himself entertained. "What do you want to eat, lovie? Mac and cheese?"

"Mac and cheese! Mac and cheese!" he shouts, chanting, then covers his own mouth with one of his hands. "Sorry, mama. Yes, please." he says, quieter this time. "Indoor voice."

"Thank you, baby." you say, handing him the spoons. He awkwardly grabs on to them, clanging them together as he mumbles to himself. As you heat up the water to start making his lunch, you can't help but think how lucky you are to have him as your little boy.