₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ Mabry ₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚

Little! Trinity & CG! Baran/ Little!Victoria & CG!Cassie

( I just want to preface that I know that gymnastics is a big trauma for Trinity, but I'd like to think that Baran spoke to Trinity while big and explained that little her was always flipping on stuff, and she wants her to be able to do it in a safe space, but Baran would always be there, so nothing bad could happen)

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Part one: Baby Ballet

The studio had a window that caregivers could watch through, which Cassie was using extensively.

Victoria had been standing very still in the center of the small studio for the past three minutes, watching the other little ones warm up. She was in the pink leotard and tutu she'd selected with the focused intentionality of someone dressing for something super important, the pinkest one, the one with the fluffiest tutu. She had her hair in two careful buns. Cassie could not help but gush over just how cute she was!

The teacher, Ms. Emiy, warm and unhurried and entirely used to littles of all kinds, demonstrated the first position: heels together, toes out, arms curved.

Victoria's feet moved into position immediately and precisely. Well, as much as a little could do that, is. Slightly wobbly.

Oh, Cassie thought, at the window.

Miss Emily showed her arms. Victoria's arms followed. She looked at them. Made a small adjustment. Looked at them again.

The little girl beside her, a sweet, round-faced girl who was having a lively internal experience with her tutu, had her arms in a shape that was enthusiastic rather than precise. Victoria glanced at her. Victoria's hands moved very slightly toward a correcting gesture and then stopped. She appeared to physically restrain herself and returned her attention to Miss Emily.

Cassie pressed her lips together hard. Sweet girl just wants to help everyone. Cassie thought.

By the midpoint of the class, Victoria had learned four positions, a simplified plié that she was executing with absolute seriousness, and a spinning move she had tried seven times until she was so dizzy she couldn't see straight. She was the smallest person in the room and the most thoroughly focused. At one point, Miss Emily said something to her, and Victoria looked up. Cassie couldn't hear it, but she saw Victoria's face, the small private smile that Victoria gave when she was pleased about something she didn't want to be too obvious about being pleased about.

At the end, there was free movement to music. The other littles improvised with great joy and zero structure. Just a bunch of little limbs flailing about. Victoria improvised with something that was clearly internally structured, something she was composing as she went, one hand above her head and one out to the side, turning slowly.

She caught Cassie at the window.

The smile that happened then was different, not the private one, the full one, the one that took over her whole face.

Cassie's hand came up to cover her own mouth. This little girl was hers and was absolutely downright cute.

In the car on the way home, Victoria was still in her leotard and tutu and refused to change, and sat very straight in her car seat looking at Cassie through the rearview mirror.

"mama again pwease"

"Next Saturday," Cassie confirmed.

"same class, miss emily"

"Same class, same teacher."

"pretty dance," Victoria said, just mumbling to herself.

Victoria looked out the window. "pwactice," she said. "Jus' a wittle bit. At home."

"The living room is all yours, baby," Cassie said.

Hopefully, the day has tired the sweet girl out.

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Part two: Falling down

The foam pit was the first problem.

Not because Trinity didn't like it. Because she liked it enormously and had to be guided away from it three times before the class actually started, each redirection was more reluctant than the last.

"We'll come back to it, baby," Baran said.

"I wanna go now, mama," Trinity said, looking over her shoulder at the foam pit. She was three today, in the little striped leotard she'd picked, Gumbo stationed on the bleachers in Baran's care. "I jus' want to look at it."

"You've been looking at it for ten minutes."

" soft foam," Trinity said. With genuine reverence.

Miss Cal, the gymnastics teacher for littles, had the patient energy of someone who had seen everything and was surprised by nothing. She gathered them at the bar, low to the ground, appropriately sized, and demonstrated hanging.

Trinity hung. She swung her legs. She looked at Baran with an expression of pure delight.

The balance beam was next. It was four inches off the ground. Trinity stepped on with great confidence and made it approximately a third of the way before miscalculating a step and going sideways off it with a thump and a sound.

The crying was immediate and thorough.

Baran was up from the bleachers before anyone else moved.

"fell," Trinity said, from the mat. Reporting a catastrophic event.

"I saw," Baran said, crouched beside her. "Are you hurt?"

Trinity checked. She was not. " fell in fwont of evewybody," she said.

"Everybody falls on the beam," Baran said. "It's why they put the mat there honey."

"I fell first though," Trinity said. The waterlogged voice.

"Trinity," said Miss Cal, appearing, crouching down. "Do you know how many times I fell off that beam when I was little?"

Trinity looked at her. Assessing the sincerity. "'ow many?"

"Every single class for a month," Miss Cal said. "I kept a count. Forty-seven times."

Trinity stared. " thas a lot?"

"And now I can walk across it with my eyes closed."

Trinity looked at the beam. She looked at the mat. She looked at Baran's face.

Something shifted in Trinity's face. The calculation of it. The permission of it.

She stood up.

She got back on the beam.

She made it halfway across this time before the end of class, and she was already looking at the foam pit on the way out, and she said to Baran in the car: "pit pwease mama?"

"Next week, baby, let's get dinner."

Little! Trinity Satnos & CG! Baran Al-Hashimi

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( was thinking about making a Discord, but only if enough people wanted to join lol, obviously 18+ and SFW agree friendly, but mainly to talk about the pitt and make friends!)

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The signs were unmistakable by noon.

First, there was the yawning deep, jaw-cracking yawns that Trinity tried to hide behind her blanket and failed at completely. Then there was the doorframe incident, where she'd misjudged the corner by about three inches and bumped her shoulder and then sat on the floor and cried for eleven full minutes about it, inconsolable, Gumbo pressed to her face. The little girl couldn't help but rub her eyes, which were already half-lidded, every few seconds. Then there was the extended standoff over which cup had the right kind of juice in it, which was apparently not any cup currently in the kitchen.

Baran watched her carefully from the couch as Trinity stood in the middle of the living room in her little cloud-print pyjama set, blanket trailing from one hand, paci in, Gumbo under her arm, eyes red-rimmed and glassy.

Three today. A very tired, stubborn three.

"Lovebug," Baran said.

"Mm," Trinity mumbled. Warily. Like she already knew.

"I think maybe it's time for a little—"

"No."

"—rest. Just a quiet—"

"Nuh uh." Trinity's grip on Gumbo tightened. "No. Nap. Mama."

"Not a nap," Baran said carefully. "Just quiet time. In your room. With your blanket."

Trinity stared at her. Her eyes were practically sliding shut from the weight of her own tiredness and she was still staring at Baran with complete, ironclad refusal.

"not seepy," she said. The words came out slightly slurred.

"Okay." Baran was faking calm facial expressions as if not to scare the easily ruffled toddler standing in front of her. Knowing that if Trinity didn't have a nap today, it would be hell to pay for later.

She yawned again, enormous, the kind that took over her whole face. She finished it and looked at Baran with great dignity. " wasn' a weal one."

"Of course not," Baran said.

"jus'—" She waved her hand. "Stwetchin' my mouf."

"Right."

"fings to do," Trinity said. "I have fings, Mama. Impowtant fings." The R's were going. They always went when she was tired or upset, sliding sideways into W's, the edges of words softening like something being worn down. "no nap—" she searched for a reason "—because Bwuey is on."

"Bluey will still be there after quiet time."

Trinity considered this dangerously. "What if she's not?"

"She will be."

"What if—"

"Trin." Baran held out her hand. Just her hand. Open. Palm faced down, reaching out.

Trinity looked at it. Her eyes were betraying her completely now, drooping at the corners. She looked at Baran's face. She looked back at the hand.

"Not a nap," she said. A last stand. Barely standing.

"Not a nap," Baran agreed.

Trinity walked over and took the hand, and her grip was loose and warm, and she leaned against Baran's side as they walked down the hall like she'd run out of energy to hold herself upright. She picked her up, already swaying and patting her back.

In the nursery, Baran turned down the sheets and put the little girl face up, and she immediately burrowed under her blanket with Gumbo ( her stuffed bunny), paci in. She turned to face the wall. Very pointed. Clearly demonstrating that she was simply resting. Simply existing quietly. This was not a nap.

Baran was leaning over the crib, running slow circles on her back.

"Not sweepin'," Trinity said, muffled by the pacifier in her mouth.

"No," Baran said.

"Jus' wayin'."

"Just laying," Baran agreed.

The room was warm and dim, the curtains filtering everything to something amber and soft.

"Mama?" Trinity's voice was barely above a breath.

"Mm?"

"Stay?"

"Right here," Baran said. "Not going anywhere, baby."

A silence. Baran listened to her breathe.

Trinity was out in less than 2 minutes. Baby breaths evening out, mixing with the sound of the nursery's beloved sound machine.

Baran looked at her for a long moment, small and certain and entirely knocked out, one hand still loosely curled around Gumbo's ear, lashes dark against her cheeks. She reached over and fixed the blanket where it had slipped.

(Excuse the weird lines or mistakes, I am slowly learning how to use Procreate and have terrible shaky hands.)

Little!Victoria Javadi & CG!Cassie Mckay

(Let me preface by saying that in my drabbles, I would assume when reading (unless I say otherwise) that they are the physical body size that they regress to.)

˚˖𓍢ִ໋❀ ˚˖𓍢ִ໋❀˚˖𓍢ִ໋❀˚˖𓍢ִ໋❀˚˖𓍢ִ໋❀˚˖𓍢ִ໋❀˚˖𓍢ִ໋❀˚˖𓍢ִ໋❀˚˖𓍢ִ໋❀˚˖𓍢ִ໋❀˚˖𓍢ִ໋❀˚˖𓍢ִ໋❀˚˖𓍢ִ໋❀

Cassie heard her on the monitor first. The stupid monitor that her anxiously freakish brain bought, even though she knew technically, Victoria was an adult most of the time.

It was barely a sound at all, a small, hitching breath that could have been static, but she was out of bed before she was fully awake, muscle memory carrying her down the hall. She did not play with Victoria, and she wasn't taking any risks.

Victoria's room was dim, just the little constellation nightlight in the corner throwing soft shapes across the ceiling. Victoria was sitting up in the middle of her bed, both hands wrapped around Pelly, her elephant, always Pelly, with her face doing the thing it did just before crying, that terrible suspended moment where everything was teetering. Her little face was scrunched up, and her lip was wobbling terribly.

She was young tonight. Very young. Cassie could see it in the faraway blankness of her eyes while she worked to place where she was, who she was, whether she was safe.

"Hi, baby," Cassie said from the doorway, keeping her voice low and even, making sure Victoria could see her clearly before she took a single step forward. "Hey, sweet girl. It's just me. You're okay."

Victoria made a sound that wasn't quite a word and reached out both arms.

Cassie crossed the room and gathered her up, and Victoria tucked in all at once, face buried against her neck, legs around her waist, Pelly squashed tight between them. She smelled like sleep, and the coconut scent of her shampoo, and Cassie just held her and swayed, one hand spread wide and warm across her back. Rubbing slow, long circles across it.

"Scary dream?"

The tiniest nod against her shoulder.

"That's all done now. All done, sweetheart." Cassie pressed her lips to the top of Victoria's head, her hair warm from sleep. "You're right here. I've got you. See? I've got you."

She kept swaying, slow and steady, until she felt some of the rigidity go out of Victoria's small frame. Then she reached back and grabbed the purple blanket from the bed, Victoria's special one, the pale purple with the fraying satin edge she liked to rub between her thumb and finger, and she wrapped it around Victoria's back. Victoria's fingers found the hem of it immediately, working it in that automatic, soothing way.

"Want your bottle, sweet girl?"

A small nod.

Cassie made her way to the kitchen without putting her down, which required some maneuvering, but she'd done it before. She managed the fridge one-handed, took out the bottle she'd learned to keep pre-filled and ready, warmed it quickly under the tap, and pressed it into Victoria's lips.

She took it, slow and steady, head tucked against Cassie's elbow.

Cassie sat down in the glider in the corner and rocked, and the apartment was very quiet around them, the way it only got in the small hours, and she ran her hand over Victoria's hair and didn't say anything for a long while.

"There's my sweet girl," she said eventually, soft enough that it was almost just for herself. "There she is."

Little!Trinity Santos & CG!Baran Al-Hashimi

"Don't wanna," Trinity said with the force only a toddler could muster up.

She was four today. Baran could always roughly gauge it by the set of her shoulders, the particular quality of her stubbornness, and four was old enough to have very strong opinions but not always old enough to know what was actually going to make her feel better.

"I know," Baran said. She was very patient about it. She'd had a lot of practice being patient with Trinity. "But we're going to be out for a couple of hours, and last time—"

"I don't need it." Trinity crossed her arms. She was already dressed in the strawberry overalls, her favourite soft overalls, and the yellow socks, and her blanket was draped over one shoulder like a cape. She looked very small and very certain. "I'm a big kid."

"You are," Baran agreed easily. "You're a very big girl."

"So nuh uh." Trinity stamped her foot on the ground while her little nose was scrunched.

"So," Baran said, and then very carefully, "you didn't need it last time either, and then you got really sad when the accident happened, and I don't want you to feel that way today. That's all."

Trinity's certainty flickered. Just slightly. She looked at the floor.

Baran sat down on the edge of the bed so she was level with her. "Hey. There's no wrong choice here, okay? And if you want to wear one and then decide in an hour that you don't want it anymore, we can talk about that too. You're always allowed to change your mind."

"S'embarrassing," Trinity said, very quietly, to the carpet.

"I know, baby," Baran said, and her voice was different, then softer, the word carrying weight. "But it's just between us. Nobody else knows. It's just our business, and it helps keep you dry and safe."

The quiet stretched out.

"...fine," Trinity muttered, so quiet she might have been talking to herself. "But no talk bout it."

"I would never," Baran said seriously.

Little!Trinity Satnos & Caregiver!Baran Al-Hashimi

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⣶⡀ ⠀⠀⢠⣤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣤⣾⠏⠘⠿⣦⣤ ⠀⠀⣾⠉⠻⢶⠶⠛⢻⡇⠀⠀⠀⠘⢻⡦⠀⠀⢰⡾⠃ ⢀⣤⠿⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⠷⠿⠿⣾⣷ ⢿⣥⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⡆ ⠀⠈⠉⣿⣀⣾⠟⠛⠋⠁ ⠀⠀⠀⠘⠛⠁

The bad days didn't always start with a reason. That was the part that made them worse. They came out of nowhere and suddenly started making her brain go all fuzzy.

One moment, Trinity was fine sitting at the kitchen table, finishing her coffee, scrolling through her phone, trying to decompress from her nightshift that she had taken the day before, and then something shifted somewhere deep inside her, some dial she had no control over, and she wasn't fine anymore.

She found herself in the closet without quite knowing how she got there. Her back against the wall, the door pulled mostly shut, the dark pressing in soft and close. She had her blanket, though; she must have grabbed it off the couch on the way, and she had it pulled up over her head like a little tent. She was three, maybe. Three and a half. The part of her that could measure such things was going quiet, sinking down, and she let it. She really didn't have a choice anyway.

She heard Baran before she saw the sliver of light appear at the door.

"Trinity?" A soft knock on the frame. Not urgent. "Baby, I can't find you." A pause. "That's okay if you want to hide for a bit. Just let me know you're alright."

Trinity made a small sound. Not a word. Just sound, just enough.

The door opened a little wider. Baran's voice came lower now, closer. "There she is, Hi baby." No alarm in it. No, what's wrong, or why are you on the floor in there? Just warmth.

"Can I come in with you?"

Trinity pulled the blanket down from her face just far enough to look at her. Trinity's face was puffy and slightly red, probably from breathing underneath a blanket for so long. Baran was crouched down in the doorway, her expression open and patient and completely unbothered.

"'kay," Trinity said, very quietly.

Baran folded herself down onto the floor and pulled the closet door most of the way shut behind her, putting them both back into the soft dark. She settled close enough that Trinity could feel the warmth of her without them quite touching, giving her the choice.

Trinity made it in about four seconds. She climbed into Baran's lap with her legs hanging by her side, and her head tucked under the older woman's chest, slow and unhurriedly, like she had absolutely nowhere else to be.

"Bad one?" she asked, low. She knew Trinity couldn't really understand all that much at the moment.

Trinity pressed her face into her shoulder and didn't answer. The blanket was still over her head, a little lopsided now.

"That's alright, baby. We don't have to say anything."

They stayed like that for a while, just sitting in the quiet dark, and after a few minutes, Baran shifted carefully, and Trinity heard the soft rustle of a pocket. Something pressed gently against her lips, cool silicone, familiar, and she opened for it without thinking, let the paci settle into place, and felt the tight thing in her chest start, slowly, to loosen.

Baran rubbed her back in long, even circles.

"There you go," she said, softly. "There's my good girl. I got you."

Hello! Welcome to my blog. I wanted to make a pinned intro post so you can get to know me and see if we share any common interests. I have had Tumblr in the past, but I haven't used it fully.

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Name / Nickname: Mabry (Mabes)

Pronouns: She/Her

Age: 22

⋆｡°✩ What I Post About

I use this blog to post, reblog, scream about my favorite things, post fan art, and maybe write drabbles. You can expect to see a lot of content related to:

Fandoms / Media: The PITT, The Last of US, Gilmore Girls, The Walking Dead, Marvel, and occasionally maybe Bridgerton.

Hobbies: I like to read, draw, and play with my pets!

⋆｡°✩ Interaction & Friends

Looking for Friends: Yes! I am actively looking to make new friends and find mutuals who share my hyperfixations.

DMs / Asks: My ask box and DMs are open. Please feel free to slide in to chat, send prompts, or share memes.

Follow Backs: I try to follow back blogs that share my main interests.

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