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Gangle always had to be pressured to eat.
…well, maybe not pressured, but, influenced .
It’s not that Gangle even hated eating, she didn’t mind it usually. But something in her brain just buzzed, and not a relaxing buzz either — a dreadful, constant sting that she couldn’t get out. An odd pain that she couldn’t describe.
The nausea, mainly from stress, did not help either.
It was weird, it’s not like Gangle avoided eating purposely. It just felt better to not remember.
Luckily… someone did.
“Gangle, hun,” Zooble called, trotting over to her. “It’s time to take a break, let’s get a snack, yeah?”
Gangle whined a bit, pointing at the grass below her — Zooble hummed, squinting at the ground.
“Oh! Uh—you found a flower?” Zooble questioned, as Gangle let out a small squeak. “Yeah, you like flowers a lot don’t you?”
Gangle sat down, or crumbled down, really. Humming as she stuck one of her ribbons into her mouth — chewing.
“Ah, don’t chew on that, we’ll get you a paci once we get inside,” The caregiver whispered, leaning down to pick Gangle up.
Gangle giggled as she was lifted, wrapping and unwrapping her ribbons around Zooble’s limbs. She tried to say something, though it was lost due to her smaller mind.
Once they got to the kitchen, Zooble dropped Gangle in one of the nearby chairs. The little whined, reaching for Zooble as they walked away.
“I know, I know ,” Zooble empathized, “But have to make lunch, sweetie.”
Gangle pouted, sniffling a little.
Zooble bent down, whispering gently, “Look, I know this stresses you out, hun, but you don’t need to think about this all right now, okay?”
Gangle whimpered, trying to use her ribbons to talk — she wasn’t too good at sign language, but she picked up a few things from Zooble.
Sick, a lot, food.
“You think you’re gonna eat too much, and get sick?”
Gangle nodded.
“Don’t feel pressured to eat everything, okay? And if you do get sick, I’ll give you some meds,” Zooble said. “And I’m not gonna feed you anything too mushy, I know you don’t like that.”
Gangle wanted to smile, but was too fixated on suckling her ribbons to do so. Their partner giggled, doing their best to coax a pacifier in her mouth before getting up again.
And so, Zooble began to make lunch, something with cheese, they knew Gangle liked cheese.
They then realized that they hadn’t actually asked Gangle what she wanted.
“Uhm… Gangle? Do you have your book?”
Gangle flinched at the sudden noise, nodding before reaching under her seat and displaying a large binder.
The binder, or book, contained different pictures of food, activities, and words. Caine had made it for her at Zooble’s request, Gangle (though a bit embarrassed,) agreed. And although the regressor tried to avoid using it, today, she regressed young enough today for appearances not to matter to her.
Zooble smiled and walked over. Leaning down to flip a few pages for her, eventually pointing at a page labeled ‘ Meals .’
“Here’s food, Gangly,” They whispered. “Whaddya want?”
Gangle hummed, rubbing her ribbons against the laminated pages before tapping a familiar meal.
Quesadillas.
Zooble cheered mentally, (as that was one of the only meals they excelled at making,) and kissed the little on the head. Gangle giggling in response — putting the binder away.
“Okay, I’ll make that as quick as I can for you, and then after, we’ll sleep, yeah?”
Gangle hummed, smiling behind her pacifer. Zooble kissed her forehead again, walking back to the stove. Leaving the smaller to relax in her spot on the chair.