#<3

[aaronsguccitie]

And another!!

hotch playing tea time with his daughter and he’s forced to wear tiaras, sit in a small chair, and drink his imaginary tea with his pinky up and mom!reader is just laughing and sneaks a picture to send to the team

- 💗

💗 anon, you shall get a hundred kisses <3

Tea time

Cw: fem!mom!reader, fluff, girl dad Aaron, no use of yn, Aaron being a complete pushover

Word count: 1.2k

----

His knees ache.

Come to think of it, so does his back. Sitting cramped in a plastic pink chair, folded nearly in half will do that to him, Aaron thinks. 

His stuffed companions don’t seem to suffer from the same fate. They’re happily drinking their tea and enjoying their biscuits, much like Aaron is supposed to be doing. He almost envies the way their furry legs rest comfortably on their matching pink chairs.

“Purple or pink?” Olivia asks him, holding out two tiaras. 

Aaron eyes the sharp combs at the end of them with mild terror. He opens his mouth to decline—he almost does, really—but Olivia’s eyes are wide and impatient, exactly like yours. 

The protest gets trapped in his throat. 

“Uhh, don’t you have a blue one?” He asks, mentally kicking himself. “I seem to remember buying you a blue tiara.”

“Nope! Purple or pink?” Olivia asks again. Her own tiara rests lopsidedly on her head, its purple jewels catching the sunlight streaming in through her bedroom window. The color matches with her Princess Rapunzel dress he’d gotten her at Disney World.

Well, at least nobody else is gonna see him in it.

“Purple,” Aaron decides. “So I can match with you, won’t that be nice?”

“But you won’t be the princess, too,” his daughter says. A small frown pulls her brows together, exactly the same as his—and way too stern for a four-year-old. Aaron gently touches the scrunch until it fades. “I’m the only princess.”

“Of course,” Aaron agrees softly. He adjusts her lopsided crown. “I’ll be the prince, is that okay?”

“No.” Olivia giggles, two of his dimples appearing in her cheeks. “Silly Daddy. You’ll be the king!” She says as she grabs the purple tiara and rises on her tiptoes, trying to reach the top of his head.

Aaron bends his neck down, a hand going to her waist to steady her until her heels touch the ground again. “How could I have forgotten,” he murmurs, his small smile turning into a wince when the combs of the tiara dig against his scalp. He bites down on his tongue to trap the hiss in his throat, forcibly stretching his lips into another smile as he looks up at Olivia with mildly watering eyes.

“How do I look?”

“Kingly.” His daughter giggles. Aaron blinks back the blurriness in his vision, smiling as Olivia picks up her purple fairy wand and waves it around theatrically before she clears her throat, “And now I dec—del…delcare—”

“Declare.”

“—declare it’s time for teatime!”

She sets down her wand and pours the very strong concoction of tap water into Aaron’s teacup, her tongue peeking out as she holds the lid of the teapot to keep it steady. Some of the faux tea spills over the rim and splashes onto his sweatpants, turning the fabric into a darker gray as Olivia hands him a plate of plastic cake when she’s done.

Aaron accepts it graciously. “Thank you, sweetheart.” He places the plate next to his tea and fumbles for the teacup, struggling to hook his finger through the handle.

“Y’welcome,” Olivia mumbles, too busy with pouring the rest of her guests’ tea.

Did they poke the hole with a needle? Aaron resigns himself to picking up the teacup from its sides. It gets swallowed up by his hands, his fingers overlapping around its circumference. 

“Being a hostess is hard work, isn’t it?” He asks as he watches her hand out cake slices to their stuffed companions.

“Mommy does it an’ she’s good at it.”

“She is,” Aaron chuckles, “guess you got that from her, huh?”

“Mhm.” Olivia finally plops down onto her chair, tilting her crown again as she reaches for her own teacup with a deep sigh.

“So how have you been ruling over your subjects?” Aaron asks seriously. He turns to the stuffed animals lining the table; her teddy and Jack’s orca and a battered unicorn from Penelope, “Are you all satisfied with the way Princess Livvy is treating you?”

“Princess Olivia, Daddy.” She corrects, frowning a little and continuing again before Aaron can remedy his mistake. “They say we go t’bed too early,” Olivia pouts.

“Do they? Well,” he brings the teacup to his lips again, pretending to take a sip, “I say—”

“Daddy, y’have to do this,” Olivia interrupts, picking up her own teacup and sticking out her pinky. She looks at Aaron expectantly.

“Oh, forgive me.” Aaron says and sticks his out, too. “Is that better?”

A muffled laugh catches his attention. That in itself makes him smile, but when he hears the not so subtle click of a camera, his eyes flick to you.

Caught.

You bite your lip and throw him a wink, disappearing behind the door frame with your phone held in your hand.

Aaron turns back to Olivia as he sets down his teacup. “I’m so sorry, your highness, may I be excused for a moment?”

“You’ll come back?” She frowns, her eyes narrowed in suspicion. Aaron stifles a laugh; his daughter through and through.

“Yes, baby.” He promises.

Her frown clears. “Okay.”

Aaron eagerly gets up from the cramped chair, his knees cracking when he straightens. He stifles a wince and leaves Olivia’s bedroom, immediately finding you in the hallway just outside. There’s a grin on your face as you look down at your phone, thumbs flying over the screen.

You hear him and look up, your smile turning sheepish as you click your phone shut and slide it into your back pocket.

He crosses over to you, his arms wrapping around your body, hands dipping into your pockets to search for your phone.

“Delete that.” Aaron murmurs.

You slap his hands away. “Delete what?”

“The picture.” He lifts his brow. Your mouth drops open, no doubt to deny it, and he cuts across you, “I know you took one, honey, don’t play dumb.”

The corner of your lip pinches as you try to hold back a wider smile. “That’s a cute crown. But sorry, your majesty,” you bow, “it’s already been sent to the group chat.”

“Jesus Christ.” Aaron groans, rubbing the heels of his hands into his eyes.

A grin splits your face in half. You pull his hands away from his eyes, gently holding them in your own. “So does that make me queen now?” 

“It makes you a traitor. I’ll call Garcia about this.”

You blow a raspberry in his face. “Please. She’s the first one to back it up on all her devices. You’re too late, bossman,” you straighten his tiara.

Aaron winces as the combs dig in deeper. He gently holds your wrist, his scalp just shy of weeping blood.

Your eyes shine as you press your lips together, the corners of them turning up as you try in vain to hold back a smile. “You look very kingly, your majesty.” The edges of your voice quiver with a laugh.

Aaron sighs. “Your daughter said the same.” He drones flatly.

You can no longer hold back your laughter.

[anyahita]

[ethosiab]

she wants attention etho why aren't you giving her attention you monster [WIP]

[themisterhip]

"Showtimes are on the hour, not a moment before and not a moment later!" New print I'm making for the con WOOOO ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

[mblue-art]

"…How about a visit to Ccino's café after exams, yeah?"

<< 🎯 >>

[yrosimenko]

🐎🐎🐎

[mastomysowner]

Photographic master Rocky. Pricey.

[fivepointpalettes]

Sunsick

#260a08 | #ae3100 | #94131c | #a32113 | #ffd6b8

[loversmore]

“I’m happy it’s only a princess and a princess here.”

PLUTO (2024)

[cutielilblog]

representing the itty bitty tity committee :p

[is-this-cottagecore]

pixabay

[doviegirlx]

you’re never too old to play with toys <3

[hotluncheddie]

for the @steddie-spooktober day 5 prompt : "Did you hear that?"

rated: T | cw: weed | tags: pre s3 events, pre relationship, Steve Harrington has PTSD, Eddie Munson is a sweetheart

( please also remind yourself of this gem first - take note of the hotdog on a stick uniforms pls & ty )

🍃🍃🍃🍃

‘Did you hear that?’ Eddie asks, sitting up from his slouch in the back of his van, hat discarded and vertical striped vest untucked from his shorts.

Steve tenses, blood rushing and adrenaline pumping his heart faster. He wades through their hot box mist to look through the front window, taking in the parking lot. Looking for people, monsters, anything that could make a sound.

‘What. What did you hear?’ He asks, short and direct. This could be bad. ‘What kind of noise was it Eddie.’

Steve scopes the deserted Star-Court lot once more, turning to Eddie, confused by his silence. ‘Eddie? What did you hear?’

But Eddie just stares at him, eyes red and sleepy and concerned.

‘Stevie.’ He says softly. They got too high, they smoked too much. Steve doesn’t even know what time it is, he can’t loose his wits like that. Cant keep sinking into the solace Eddie’s drugs give him. The solace the man himself seems to offer, friendly and understanding and somehow so so kind under everything.

‘What?’ Steve’s voice is raising, he can’t be high and fight, in his stupid sailor uniform. What if it’s back? What if it comes for Eddie this time?

Eddie shuffles over to the back doors, throwing them open and slipping down onto the concrete in just his socks.

He bends down and scoops something from off the floor.

Turning back to Steve with a black cat in his arms.

‘S’just Miss Noire Stevie. Just the parking lot cat I see sometimes.’ And Eddie smiles at him, sweet and small and still so achingly concerned.

Steve realises then that his fists and jaw are clenched. That his shoulders hurt and his knees ache from being crouched and wound so tight.

He laughs shakily, crawling over and reaching out a trembling hand for the little black ball of fur.

The cat sniffs him, taking her time to decide if he’s friendly or not. But eventually her little head bumps up against his palm and Steve giggles breathlessly, his eyes stinging. The tension seeping out of him again. His high mostly gone and the stress leaving a bad taste in his mouth, but it’s okay. They’re okay.

The monsters are gone.

They’re gone.

It’s just him and Eddie again, in the back of a van after their shifts at equally shitty jobs.

Him and his now good friend Eddie. Who gets it. He doesn’t get it, but he gets Steve, or wants too, tries too.

‘Sorry.’ Steve says, eyes on the cat.

‘You’re good man. Sorry for not explaining quicker.’ Eddie whispers.

Glancing up their eyes meet. Steve feels vulnerable and open under Eddie’s stare. His neck heating.

But maybe if it’s Eddie. Just Eddie looking. Maybe he doesn’t really mind.

🍃🍃🍃🍃

Tag list (message to be added/removed): @scoops-aboy86 @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @pearynice @marvel-ous-m

@thecatkingsthrone @chickensinrainboots @cheesedoctor

[pascalfan]

was having a bad day so i doodled pascal with an alien plush 👽🤍🔭

[throwmethroughawindow]

sorry im so horny for Hugh Jackman / Wolverine on the main :(

do you guys still like me?

[eldritchmoth]