Been reading Uncanny X-Men n she reminds me of my sister! And these are probably ooc or self-indulgent!
– Regresses just a bit older than 15-17, before her mutation developed and she wasn’t as isolated as she was before the X-Men. Can drop a bit lower but it’s not too often, and it’s usually when she’s too upset.
– Loves to take her little sib outside to play or even to have a small picnic around the Louisiana trees, makes very simple stuff for the both of you but enjoys the time more than the snacks!
– Very energetic if you like to play a ton and run around outside! Insists on trying to get all your energy out so you don’t ‘bother her later’ but honestly enjoys playing as much as you do. Often goads you into playing tag with her by tapping you a million times then booking it across the yard.
– If you’re a very low energy little, she’s very okay with that too, sometimes she’s the same way. Likes to pick you up outta bed and carry you to either her room or the sitting room to watch a movie or whatever catches her attention that day. She huffs and puffs about having to watch baby shows if it’s your turn with the TV, but it’s really just for show.
– Has bad days where her brain gets the best of her, gloves held tight around her hands even if she doesn’t need them anymore. Giving you the lightest of touch at first before someone reminds her that it’s okay, still is quite avoidant with the reminders however.
– Nightcrawler or Wolverine are often around you two the most when both of you are regressed, giving Anna-Marie easy freedom if she gets overwhelmed, but Kurt and Logan are just as fun in her opinion. They’re the only ones she trusts with her regression. Besides Gambit, but he is dealing with the eye of aggamotto, so…
– Throughout the events of Uncanny X-Men (currently!) Rogue regresses quite easily or not enough at all, a balance she can’t maintain while Gaunt and Corina are lurking around, it’s stressful as the new leader. It’s all too easy to send her spiraling when she never wanted to be put in charge, during these days she tries to put Gambit more in front than her.
– Sometimes has very little patience just like any other teenager but does try her hardest to include you in whatever activity she’s attempting at the moment. Whether it be reading out loud to you or trying to share a headphone with you even though you won’t sit still long enough to enjoy her music taste.
Anna Marie tries hard to appreciate her little annoying sibling /silly
verrrry simple papa jayce moodboard for fathers day !! : D possibly the most papa character evr made. my dad actually works for the council and he can get u expelled.. btw.. (in the tone of 'my dad works for roblox n can get u banned..') 🐇
Scott Summers the ultimate dad 2 me,, love love love him I’m rereading a lot of comics and rewatching the Fox x-men movies! Headcanons for him n Jean soon!!
thinking of exhausted bubba jayce trying his best to take care of you. making sure you're happy n fed, spoiling you with sweet treats when he can. watching movies waaay past ur bedtime w/ him n falling asleep on his shoulder. very specific flavor of nostalgia here... it only had to make sense 2 me actually ^_^
synopsis: Anna takes you out for a picnic, hoping it'll help tire you out when you both return. things don't quite turn out that way, but don't worry; mama's got you.
content: agere. Romy x reader is alluded to.
word count: 2,577
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She's sat on a cotton throw blanket, a thicker picnic blanket underneath. Somehow, even that hadn't managed to be enough for comfort, so she's shoved a Pompompurin Squishmallow beneath her knees.
She's coloring him, too. Trying her best to color all the Sanrio friends within the lines. Hopefully, he doesn't mind getting all squished; she just doesn't enjoy the texture of grass against her knees very much.
What she does enjoy, however, is how peaceful the park is today, how nice the shade under the large maple tree is.
Neither of those things is the best part, though.
Luckily for her, Anna packed some of her favorites in the basket. There are two insulated containers: pastel green and pink. Both of them were filled to the brim with mac and cheese. It's simple, basic. Seasoned, but not overdone. Something that only Mama can get right.
Ironically, when Mama cooks for her, she's always nervous. Her brows twinge together when the water simmers a little bit more than what she's used to, and she's tense when it comes to making anything past pasta or sandwiches.
Lately, she enjoys watching the worry melt away from Mama's features when she scoops some of the mac-n-cheese up and feeds her. Anna always seems shocked that she doesn't grimace.
There's never any need to, anyway. Mama's food always tastes really good.
Sometimes Mama asks Remy to do it instead. It's only Kraft mac-n-cheese, but the differences between their cooking are astronomically significant. She always takes notice of the sudden hints of smoked paprika and cayenne pepper.
It's fine, there's really no issue with it…But no one makes food like Mama.
She's still trying to finish her piece of pizza. There's only a quarter left—and she's not full yet, but not hungry either. She keeps getting distracted between what shade of pink to make My Melody's hat and the little jingle that plays from the ice cream truck parked behind her.
Mama said they're gonna go back to the mansion in a lil' bit. Why so soon?
She doesn't have time for food in conditions like these; she's much more focused on finishing her drawing so she can spend just a little longer on the swings afterward.
"Ready to pack up and head on outta here, sweetheart?" Frick. No swings, then.
Her fingers loosen around the crayon, and her eyes drift all the way up till she's staring at Mama. She's holding the Sonic popsicle she requested. Last time, she had one of Bubbles, so she's really starting to branch out here.
Anna bends down to hand it to her, and she mutters out a quiet 't'ank you' when she takes it.
She's nothing if not well-mannered, Mama taught her to be. Seeing the edges of her Mama's mouth twitch up into a pretty lil' smile makes her feel complete.
She might be a city girl, but she can be a southern belle like her mommy, too.
Anna is starting to place things back in the basket, putting her baby's Winnie-the-Pooh spoon back into the case before she starts to gather the food.
Mama leaves her pizza slice untouched, and she can understand why. At this point, it's probably been devoured more by the flies than anything. Only the plate, her coloring materials, and her toys remain. Mama always taught her to be a good girl and put 'em away herself, so she will…
…Eventually.
"'M'kay, baby, you go 'head and finish up."
She halts, pulling away from the Popsicle. "Leaving already?" She whines, all soft and high. She's not ready yet.
Anna nods her head, pushing back her stuffed animals to the side to sit in front of her.
"How long Mama say we was stayin'?" Anna's hip juts out to the side, and her legs are thrown on top of each other.
"Hour…" She murmurs.
"How long y'think 's been darlin'?"
She doesn't want to answer that one.
"…Hour…" She repeats, defeated.
She's usually easy on these things; she likes staying in the mansion most days anyway. But it's evening; a really nice one, too. The way the sun cascades over Mama and ropes its rays into her amber locks and ivory strands—It just makes her want to stay here a little longer.
A few silent moments trudge on by, and Anna is scrolling on her phone, green nails shimmering against the screen.
She holds the half-finished popsicle up to Mama, like she doesn't know what to do with it.
"Done…Don't wan' anymore." She announces, Sonic looks all befuddled now.
Anna peels her eyes away from the article and looks down at her baby. She squints her eyes and simply says, "Nuh uh, y'know Mama don't like gettin sticky, hon'."
Mama jerks her thumb behind them, over at the trash can. Ohh. Right…She sorta forgot that was there…
She hops over to the trash can and discards both the ice cream and her plate. When she comes back, Anna is cleaning her up with a damp napkin. The corners of her mouth and her hands are now a little stained. Her tongue, on the other hand, is full on blue.
She nuzzles into Anna's chest while she's getting cleaned up. She's not that messy. She's barely ever messy at all. Sometimes she just pretends so she can cuddle up to Mama afterward…But that's a secret.
She could spend an eternity like this, but she knows they'll have to leave eventually. It'll get dark. She picks up all her toys and shoves her Build-A-Bear bunny beside the Jellycat one in her toy bag. She shoves the kitties between her stuffed animals next, a family of Calico Critters tucked between two bunnies.
Mama does most of the rest; she watches as Mama folds the blankets and tucks them under her arm. She takes the basket, too. Meaning all she has to do is grab her toys.
They're walking to the car, side by side.
Her eyes threaten to close the moment the engine turns on. Mama buckles her in, and then she's barely able to comprehend the way her mama scurries off into the driver's seat.
She didn't notice it, but she whined when Anna pulled away. She's been whiny all evening, in fact.
Mama doesn't say anything, so she just doesn't stop. Can't help it. She tries to tell herself she isn't tired, because she's really not. Car rides are just boring, and nothing is interesting on the radio right now.
She tries to play with her toys, takes the little senior kitty in her palm. It just lies loose there, fingers barely wrapped around the sides of the figure.
She doesn't even realize when it slips out of her grasp and onto the floor of the car. Anna notices, though. Before she gets out, she grabs the Calico Critter and places it where it belongs.
But then Anna's eyes brush over her form; she quietly notes how still she is. The little whistle that escapes the space between her lips.
She decides that she'll come back for the food later. Spoilage be damned.
She doesn't hear the car door fly open, yet she feels the warmth of Anna when she's getting cradled in her arms. Her arm is wrapped around Anna's neck, and Anna's arms lock underneath her knees.
"C'mon, sweetheart," Mama coos; it becomes a faint whisper in the back of her mind.
They barely make it past the living room before her eyes are fluttering open. She can hear someone pass on into the danger room, then she hears glass clink together from somewhere within the kitchen. A faint hint of coffee hits her nose; something dark and smoky. It's faint; like it was brewed several hours ago yet chose to linger anyway.
Ororo is sitting on the couch, doing nothing in particular—she assumes, she doesn't know. She only knows she's there because notes of aged parchment paper and spilled ink mingle with agarwood and orchid.
Her eyes are still on Anna, drinking in her light like she's made of gold; melting in her embrace like she has the Midas touch.
Mama has always had a one-track mind; that doesn't change when it comes to her baby. Remy's in the kitchen, because he always is—and he's nosy, so of course his head darts out the kitchen doorframe as soon as he hears the front door.
"Everythin' turn out all righ' cheré?"
"Mhm, think she's tuckered out. Gon' go a'head and put her down for bed."
They speak in hushed voices; brief check-ins. Anna still hasn't noticed the change in her breathing patterns, and she isn't quite ready to drop the whole sleeping act. Mama, Mama, Mama. Keep holding me...
They're by the stairs, though. So she knows exactly where they're going.
Her eyes flutter open, all gently at first—meek, like she's been asleep the whole time. She even brings her voice down a little, so Anna would never be able to tell the difference.
Remy has already shifted back into the kitchen. She grips onto the tie of Anna's cardigan when she speaks out quietly.
"Good nap…Wanna go play now,"
Anna's eyes sweep over her form; not like she's shocked, but like she's figured it all out already. Like she never fell for it in the first place.
"Sugarbear, ain't you tired?"
She shakes her head against Anna's chest, rests there a little longer just before Mama peels her away.
"No, no, no…Don't wanna go."
"I know darlin', but you've been fightin' a real fierce case o' insomnia lately."
At this point, she can't even claim that Anna is being unfair. She just whines, because even after the park—she's not ready to settle down, she didn't even get to play restaurant with Mama and dada yet.
Mama keeps holding her as they scale the stairs, thankfully. But she's gonna make her go to bed.
Once they're on the landing, Anna lets her arm unfurl from underneath her knees. Her feet sprawl against the ground, shoes hitting the floor with a near-silent clack.
She blinks up at Mama, like a newborn chick who's just hatched from her egg. Mama rubs the small of her back, even pushes the door open for her.
"Go rest for Mama, babydoll. Please?"
And usually, she'd listen. She loves listening and loves being good for Mama. Despite this, her words form faster than her thoughts; it's hard, I can't, I'm struggling lately—all of it festers and turns into;
"I don't…I don't wanna!" Oh no. It wasn't supposed to come out like that. She barely makes it into cover before making a scene. They're between the hallway and her room, and luckily, no one is there to see them. People would definitely hear it, although.
She's never…Loud about it. Not like this.
Anna's eyes soften, but her hand stops rubbing reassuring circles into her back.
"Sugarbear." It's soft, stern. Not angry—just controlled. Mama sees her baby doesn't mean it.
She shakes a bit, like a leaf in fear of parting from her branch. Mama is there to keep her stable, though.
Mama takes her hand and leads her to her bed. Both of them are silent now; it's quiet. Not uncomfortable—not silence she's earned in the form of a silent treatment. Everything is just…Still.
This continues, even as Mama helps her change out of her clothes. She lifts her feet up to let Anna untie her shoes, then raises her arms up to let Anna change her into her nightgown.
Afterwards, she retreats to the comfort of her canopy bed. She ducks beneath pink and blue drapes; all low and frilly, just how she likes it. The sunlight used to always bother her in the mornings, but now her bed is more like a tent the sun doesn't bother her anymore.
Mama makes sure to tuck her in, tucking in the sides of her blanket around her form till she's engulfed by cotton and satin. All snug as a bug.
"'M sorry, Mama," Anna hovers over her as she says it, and she really, really means it. She's never been one to say things just to get out of trouble.
"Mama's sorry too, sugah. Didn't realize it's been so hard for ya recently."
Anna figured the park would help; she didn't know why. It just made sense. Let her baby run a few circles around her till her mind finally gave her a break.
Well, Anna was wrong again. She's okay with that, of course; she's just glad they've ruled it out and that her baby seemed to have fun in the first place.
But they've tried a couple of things, now—all with similar levels of success.
Anna knows warm milk used to make some of the kids sleepy, so they try it. Nothing ever comes of it. She doesn't give up then, though.
Something tells her to rent some books from the library; read her darlin' to bed. But, to no avail.
While it is discouraging, she's still not giving up on her baby. She might not ever give it up. They've barely scratched the surface when it comes to treatments, afterall.
" No, don' say sorry Mama…Y'didn't do anything wrong." She wants to say it was her fault more than anything, but Anna beats her to it.
Lips graze against her cheek, softly speaking when they say, "Then, that makes the two of us. No apologizin' for things we can't control."
"Okay...Love you, Mama." It slips past her lips real easy, then.
"Love you too, sugah." That puts her mind at ease real quick, too.
Sleep, on the other hand, remains hard and does not come by so quickly. She knows she's tired; she feels it in the lack of moisture in her eyes.
Something feels off. Her mind is busy, but her hands aren't. Mama is patting down loose strands of her hair when she speaks up again.
"Uhm, Mama..?" She speaks with lidded eyes.
"Hmm?"
"Is m' bunny downstairs? The brown one." Caramel. The brown and beige rabbit she carried around everywhere. She even took him to briefings every once in a while.
"Carmel, hm? Why don't Mama go grab her for ya?" Him, she wants to correct. She's way too tired for that.
Anna presses another kiss to her cheek, and this time, she feels better about Anna pulling away. She knows she'll be back soon.
She can't give much more than a small nod, watching as Mama places Bluey beside her to keep her company for now.
Bluey is different from the rest of her stuffies, though. Not any more or less special; just…Sorta weird. A mix between a stuffed animal and a pillow. A Pillow Pet. She hears the button on Bluey's back click, then she sees a rainbow of stars spread across the drape.
Somewhere along the way, the stars form what look more like scattered hues for a while. It remains that way till they fade, turning into nothing.
Just—darkness behind her eyes.
⟢
. . .
When Anna returns, she's already fast asleep. Anna tucks the bunny in beside her baby, then lingers for just a moment longer.
synopsis: you and Remy explore Paris together, and he takes you to get a new stuffed animal.
content: agere. prior trauma is alluded to, but not explicitly stated. Fluffy otherwise. This is a blurb taken from a more personal story I got the inspiration to write! Romy X Reader is alluded to.
word count: 1,540
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Ultimately, he had let her walk at her own rhythm. No matter how irregular her gait had been, he followed her like she was his guide, like she knew how to navigate the bumbling streets of Paris.
She hadn't known; he did, but he did not force her to admit defeat. He didn't make her feel stupid, just made little corrections. He took the role of a compass, guided her toward ostentatious glass windows and tall beige buildings. Some of the buildings were embellished with velvety red awnings; architecture she had only seen in movies. She couldn't have dreamed something up that felt this surreal.
His eyes had tracked her, not annoyed, not concerned—he watched her like she was the highlight of his week, like he needed her there; ingrained in his mind. Cherry red eyes on black forest scleras, searching for nothing but her.
"Mmm, la galerie pour la jolie fille," she had felt a familiar heat rush to her cheeks, a fluttering sensation in her chest.
It wasn't quite home, not his—but the people understood him much more than any of their friends did. His accent was distinct, accompanied by a peculiar lilt that easily captured her attention. Something about the romantic gesture made her melt in that moment; she had reveled in it. It was the city of love, after all.
They had passed luxury after luxury, and some of the stores had caught her attention. She pointed them out to him with a gentle poke to his side.
Once they had finally entered the store, her eyelashes fluttered shut. She had promised herself she wouldn't go overboard, telling herself she'd be walking out with three new friends, at most four.
She willed herself toward the teal blue shelves, each stocked to the brim with every animal, food, and pastry she could think of. She sought them out immediately, her fingers pushing past wood and metal to brush against wool.
She pet the pink bunny, the inside of its ears and the pads of its feet had floral patterns that were soft to the touch. It caused a part of her to retreat somewhere else, not dormant—but far. She gave the rabbit a few dazed blinks as the switch happened, overtaking her like a silent tide.
"See anythin' y'like?"
He appeared there beside her, and it was like he had always been there. He had something she couldn't make out: a three-layered cake he held down by his hip. There had been another, too, a little peanut he held close to him. It forced a giggle out of her, bubbling out so easily from her chest. He looked cute like this, cradling the peanut like a precious heirloom.
He had met her gaze with a raised brow and a knowing smile. Greedy, she had mouthed.
He hadn't denied it.
"Looks like you found your folks again, ain't you tired of taking 'em in?"
"I like bunnies..."
It was his turn to let out a laugh then; the sound made her feel like she was being swaddled in a blanket.
"That so?" He had asked.
She nodded once.
The store was quiet, busy, but not nearly crowded. It was small and convenient despite its place in one of the biggest attractions. She clung onto the tail end of his trench coat anyway.
"Do you have a menu?" She had asked.
She could speak as softly as she preferred, so she had let her voice falter and mellow out. She wasn't hiding from him; she had felt safe, knew he was safe. He would never fault her for settling into a simpler headspace. She knew how it looked, decided it didn't matter. She fiddled with the loose end of his beige belt, and her eyes darted around the store.
He quirked his head to the side, "For the reservation? Petite, Gambit sure you'll have enough time when we get there,"
Truthfully, she had forgotten they had less than twenty-four hours before their flight. The trip had been everything but mandatory. It had been rare that they got the chance to do something so spontaneous.
Sometimes it was the three of them, other times, they just went out as a couple. Anna had opted to sleep in after catching wind of their plans today; she was never a fan of crowded places.
They compromised; nobody's experience had been negatively impacted. Anna had requested that they have their last dinner at Lafayette's, and so they did. Remy has a knack for the morning atmosphere, so they went café hopping every morning. Somehow, there had never been any urgency, no rush.
Her fingers had wrapped around the menu, and she held it there for a moment, not wanting to make anything final. There had been a clear view of the display counter now, pastel teal shelves decorated bountifully with Jellycat pastries. She had decided she'd only bring one back home and one to chauffeur around for the rest of their trip.
She had pointed to one with her forefinger, her lip tucked behind ridged teeth. She's always had an intuition for these things—crafted by pattern and feeling. She did not want to go by that; she wanted it to be personalized, wanted it to be something Rogue would adore.
She had been stuck between the macaroon and the strawberry tart, refusing to let her heart decide. In the end, she chose the strawberry tart. It resembled the one she had gotten on their second day in Paris, the morning they visited the boulangerie.
Luckily, the line had gotten shorter in no time. Remy's gaze had been transfixed on his phone; his new friend had rested between his forearm and chest. Lithe fingers glided across the screen in a fashion that was abnormal to her. Rather than the traditional, he had always been a swipe texter; she had always been stunned by the accuracy of his messages.
"'M' gonna get this, s'for mama." She said it in a small tone.
Ruby eyes had landed on the pamphlet. "T'ink she gone love that, lapin," He murmured.
His fingers ghosted against her scalp, and he rubbed gently for a few moments; the motion eased that dull static in her mind. "Sweet t'ing, forget 'bout Anna and dem...What do you want?"
Something about that question made the air feel stale, the words at the front of her mind brittle. She had thought back to the rabbit at the front of the store, had even seen it within view behind the pillar. It no longer preoccupied her mind; it didn't make her giddy anymore.
It was something he had noticed because he had known her heart. He knew how significant things had felt when she had been feeling so small. There had been an attempt by him to part from her, to try to grab the pink bunny. Her hand had landed on his wrist before he had the chance.
"I don' wanna take 'er in…" She confessed, the air had started to feel clearer, so she continued, "Too much stuff, don't know what I want.." She uttered.
Sorry, she should've said sorry. It had been a lousy thing to say after he'd gone through all this effort.
She had known how it sounded, how difficult she was being. She had avoided the heat in his gaze, thought his anger would settle if she didn't meet his eye.
"Well…Then, that's difficult, non?" He started, contemplative. It was the oddest thing, really, the lack of heat in his tone; the presence of warmth instead. There had been no attempt to shake away her grasp.
"Do y'gotta know, petite?" It had been a proposal, a gamble. Something about it felt safer.
Eventually, they had reached the front. Remy handled the rest of the transaction while she watched the employees prepare complimentary pins and stickers. Three boxes had turned into four.
Remy's peanut had been packaged separately from the rest of the desserts, without tongs or special pins. The rest of the pastries had stayed open.
"Would you like some butter with your tart?"
Though the "cook" had spoken in English, she had still stared at Remy like she didn't speak a lick of it. The hand on her back rubbed in gentle circular motions.
"Yes, please," She said meekly.
"What about some whipped cream?" There was another reassuring rub to her back; she nodded.
She had been cautious at first, tucking the excitement she felt aside. She studies his expression meticulously this time; the result makes her skin feel warm.
He had smiled like it was the best thing he'd ever witnessed. Like it was the discovery of the first beignet.
When the baker asked him the same questions about his cake, he answered yes to them both. While Remy had retrieved his wallet, she stared at the new box as if she would be able to see through it. Maybe she hadn't been the only one hiding her excitement. Perhaps they were both adults trying not to look out of place by feeling right at home.
self indulgent, pls do not reblog claiming her as you
little!jinx who asks the same questions over and over: "are you staying?”,, "you’re not gonna leave, right?”, "papa/sissy/vika/isha, are you still here?”, and they answers every time, even if it’s the tenth time she's asked
little!jinx whose moods swing constantly, if she feels ignored, she might panic. If she feels cared for,, she clings very hard. There’s very little middle ground.
little!jinx who tends to latch onto certain objects or routines when small, like a specific blanket, a toy, or repetitive actions such as stacking or tapping.
little!jinx who only regresses around her safe people (isha, ekko, sevika, vi) , her brain treats them as if they're the only stable and safe thing that exists.
little!jinx who follows them everywhere, quietly trailing behind, holding onto their sleeve, or sitting close enough that their shoulders touch. If they try to leave the room without warning, even for something small, she panics quickly.
little!jinx who gets triggered by things that might not even register outside of her regression, a sudden noise, a change in tone, her fp turning away too quickly, something not being where she left it, etc
"heyyy, if it isn't my little buggy! what're you doin up so late? as your brother it is my firm responsibility to tuck you in — which i did — and it's your responsibility as my little buggy, to stay there — which you didn't! aww no pouty face buggy im just kiddingg, come on, i'll be an extra good big brother n let you cuddle me!"
Jinx is the kind of little who throws a tantrum when she's having a bad mental day. If she's already overwhelmed and you tell her no? Oh boy.
Full on laying in the floor crying, kicking her feet and punching the ground. She will make it difficult for you to comfort her, but gets even more upset if you don't try hard enough.
She will say things like "Why don't you love me?" And "I hate you!" But it's all just her feeling anxious. Once she's wrapped up in Vi or Silcos arms, she calms down, silently crying into her caregivers neck as she hugs them tight.
And she will get her bunny 🐰 and her strawberry milk 🍓 and lay down for a nap with her favorite person petting her head and whispering soothing words to her.
self indulgent, pls do not reblog claiming her as you
little!jinx who asks the same questions over and over: "are you staying?”,, "you’re not gonna leave, right?”, "papa/sissy/vika/isha, are you still here?”, and they answers every time, even if it’s the tenth time she's asked
little!jinx whose moods swing constantly, if she feels ignored, she might panic. If she feels cared for,, she clings very hard. There’s very little middle ground.
little!jinx who tends to latch onto certain objects or routines when small, like a specific blanket, a toy, or repetitive actions such as stacking or tapping.
little!jinx who only regresses around her safe people (isha, ekko, sevika, vi) , her brain treats them as if they're the only stable and safe thing that exists.
little!jinx who follows them everywhere, quietly trailing behind, holding onto their sleeve, or sitting close enough that their shoulders touch. If they try to leave the room without warning, even for something small, she panics quickly.
little!jinx who gets triggered by things that might not even register outside of her regression, a sudden noise, a change in tone, her fp turning away too quickly, something not being where she left it, etc
