#agere angst

[nicksbestie]

hey friends tonight has sucked so let’s talk some angst agere 🤗🤗 send in ur sad thoughts

@quinnysnursery this is your moment

[jacksdinonuggets]

Lost And Found Part 5

Requested on wattpad a few days ago.

TW: R slur and mentions of the bad mental institutions from the 60's.

Vaggie found herself in a hospital bed, alone. She called out for mama but she wasn't there. She noticed that she had both of her eyes and the room looked very similar... oh no. Not here again. She got out of the bed, she was in the stupid hospital uniform gown thing that everyone had to wear. Beginning to panic, she rushed out of her room. Running down the white, depressing halls, she tried to find the door out. She rushed past the other teens in there and eventually found the door. It was next to the front desk. The man working there had already started to call the security.

Vaggie pulled and pushed on the door, trying to get it to open but it was locked. The security ran up to her and tackled her, beating her with a stick. She was carried away from the door, screaming and crying. She just wanted out. She didn't want to live here any longer.

Vaggie was taken to another room where they put a straight jacket on her. She tried to bite their hands off but that only made it worse because they threw into the fucking assylum again. The stupid white, padded, walls greeted her. The last time she was there was when she had a "tantrum". She hated this. The jacket was super itchy and the room was too quiet. She needed to get out. Anything to escape this place. But nothing was there. Nothing to help her escape. She was alone again.

Carmilla woke up to Vaggie stirring in the hospital bed. She checked the time on her phone and it was just past midnight. Realizing the girl might be having a restless night, she ran her fingers through her hair, trying to comfort the girl. Unfortunately, it didn't seem to work because the girl woke up with tears running down her face and whimpering.

"Mija, what's wrong?" Carmilla whispered. Vaggie hugged her tightly.

"B-bad dweam," She whined.

Carmilla frowned, wishing she could do something to take this pain away.

"What was it about?"

"Mm, was in da bad hospital again..." She said. It was very scary and she didn't want to share anymore details. She was just glad Mama was with her now.

"Oh, Baby..." Carmilla kissed her forehead and hugged her. After a bit of cuddling, Vaggie seemed to calm down a bit. Carmilla had a few questions and decided it would be best to ask them now.

"Why did you go to the bad hospital, mija?" Carmilla asked. She needed to know if she was going to help her come over any trauma she may have from it.

Vaggied whimpered again and hesitated. She was a little nervous and scared to talk about it but eventually opened her mouth.

"Papa sent me aways too because. I fink da doctor said was autistic, but papa always said wetarded," Vaggie told her. She didn't like having to relive this but knew it would be best if she told her new mother this. (Btw, Vaggie died when Mental hospitals were still really bad, probably around the 60's-70's)

Carmilla's heart broke. She couldn't believe her father! Sending his kid away because she was autistic. And then calling his kid dumb? She wanted to cry just thinking about it. But she needed to stay strong for vaggie.

"Baby, there is nothing wrong with being autistic. It's not retarded either. You're just a little different from everyone else but that doesn't mean it's bad." Carmilla told her. She wanted vaggie to not be ashamed of the difference that she had.

"But den why papa call it wetarded?"

She sighed, not wanting to have to explain what a slur was to her mentally 2 year old.

"He wasn't being kind to you, sweetie. He- he called you dumb," she tried to tell the truth to her in the most friendly way she could think of.

Vaggie whimpered, upset that her father had been calling her that all those years. Maybe she was too dumb if she didn't understand what her father was calling her. She let herself get comforted by Carmilla for a bit until she let out a yawn.

"Wanna go back to sleep?" Carmilla asked. Vaggie nodded and snuggled up close to her.

Carmilla was glad they had this talk. Hopefully later, they could enroll vaggie in therapy or something. She needed someone to talk to about this. But for now, she would do her best to support her.

[bamboobooshark]

Hiiii I just found your page and omg I love your writing so much. I actually did get into an argument with my friend, and I deactivated one of my intas cuz of it (long and stupid story) but it was really comforting to read Logan wanting to coddle and comfort someone yk

You can ignore the request if it makes you uncomfortable, but do you think you can write something where the reader doesn't really know or understand what regression is or why they feel this way so they isolate when they feel childish or playful or start annoying people without realizing it and Logan who loves and cares for them starts to miss them and is like wtf and helps them.

Thank you for your writing I hope you have an amazing day.

LOGAN HOWLETT X LITTLE!READER

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ ☁️་༘ COMFORT & CONFUSION : 991 WRDS

<RATING : PG, VULENRABLE MOMENTS, CRYING>

A/N : Just a little note for Anon; I am so heavily greatful that my fic was able to bring you so much comfort. I hope you’re recovering well from what happened. Apologies for taking so long to get this out for you, I always get caught up in spilling and detailing my concepts that end up becoming full fics. I truly hope this fic is what you were hoping for <3 !!Warning for a pinch of angst and crying!!

You’ve been isolating yourself in your room since you woke up. You feel so confused with yourself, with your mind, with your feelings. You press your back against your headboard, legs crossed one on top of the other. You gently rock back and forth while struggling to understand how you’re feeling; why you’re feeling the way you do. Yeah, you’ve got a ton of energy right now. You feel like you’re letting your inner child express itself in your mind, yet you’re holding them in as best as possible. You’re terrified of annoying anyone by releasing those feelings, espically Logan. You bite and chew at your lips nervously as you rock a bit faster. Why? That’s the only question you can ask yourself right now. Over and over, your mind fills itself with nothing but confusion of why you feel like this, why you yearn to be so childish, why you’re scared of annoying Logan when he loves you unconditionally.

You’re quickly snapped out of your thoughts as the man knocks on the door. “Everything alright in there, kid,” he asks with his face pressed to the wood. God, the way he calls you kid only makes these foreign feelings harder to suppress. You choke back your tears before responding. “Yeah. I’m fine. Just feeling a little down,” you reply with a tone that’s involuntarily soft and childlike. Logan raises his brows at the way you speak to him. You’ve never kept yourself away like this, but he’s been noticing a pattern lately. You isolate yourself the moment you wake up, beg him to leave you alone, and then come out quiet and reserved. He continues to press because he misses you so damn bad. He’s willing to do absolutely anything to get you in his arms again. “Please tell me what’s wrong, bub. I promise I’m not going to be upset with you,” he pleads with the softest tone he can force out of his throat. “I mean, I’d be more upset if you didn’t trust me with whatever you’ve got going on,” he chuckles akwardly.

You wipe your tears before inviting him in. The second he realizes that you’re crying, his lips form a frown and his eyes give you a sympathetic gaze. “Hey, hey, hey. Don’t cry, baby. I’m right here. I’m not leaving, I swear,” he scrambles to reassure you, sitting on your bed and pulling you into his arms. You let your cries get thicker once you lean into his. He smells so fatherly. His large, calloused hands make your entire body shiver with comfort. Everything about him is sending an unknown, unfamiliar feeling that you’ve been yearning for. You can’t even begin to imagine what to call it, but your body allows you to relax under his touch. “That’s it, baby. Let it all out. Tell me what’s up once you’re ready to,” he coos as his hands rub up and down your back. You nod against his chest, letting the thumping of his heartbeat soothe you.

You pull back from his embrace, but hold his hands in your own. His touch is what you’ve been needing. Scratch that, you’ve been needing Logan in general. You attempt to try and explain things, but you end up stammering and stuttering. “I’m sorry, Logan. I just — I don’t even know what to say,” you apologize while looking away from him. He squeezes your hands gently and sighs. “You don’t need to apologize, kid. I’ll be here as long as you need me to be. If I have to wait here for hours for you to get your thoughts together, I don’t mind. You know that, bub,” he tells you sincerely. You look at him and give him the best smile you can considering the circumstances.

You take a deep, shakey breath after a few minutes of silence before attempting to describe your feelings. “I’ve just been feeling like a child lately. I’ve had so much energy and excitement and joy for no reason. It’s so confusing and it’s scaring me Lo, it really is. I just want an answer,” you explain to him. His thumb rubs against your knuckles lovingly before he presses a silent kiss to your forehead. “Oh, god, I’m so sorry. You’ve got such a big heart, kid. I need you to understand that you don’t need to be afraid to let those feelings loose around me. I’ll love you no matter what,” he promises while holding your face in his hands so you’re looking at him. You nod gently, eyes glossy and wide from the way he comforts you so paternally. “I understand,” you mumble back, letting that same childlike voice slip. Logan gives you a gentle smile, failing to hold back a snicker. “Well would you look at that. You sound so little, baby. It’s adorable,” he says while attempting to hold himself back from squeezing your face. You giggle softly and shake your head no. “It’s not adorable, Lo,” you protest. Your stomach knots as you allow yourself to slip into this pure, innocent state. As soon as Logan begins to coddle you further, that knot unties itself and becomes a flutter in your heart. “If you deny anything else I say, I’ll have to find a way to get back at you for it. You’re too damn cute to not accept that you are,” he playfully threatens. “C’mere you sweet thing,” he growls as he pulls you into his lap. “No! Let me go,” you giggle sweetly, squirming in Logan’s arms despite wanting to stay right where you are forever. “I’m not letting you go, kid. You’re mine. My sweet little thing that I’ll protect with my life,” he declares before starting to pepper your face with soft kisses. You can feel him smiling like an idiot against your skin from the sound of your giggles, the way you smile, and the warmth of your face caused by him.

[starri-nightss]

Tummy-canons 🦋✨🫂

Summary: Headcanons about Matt being the tummy ache warrior he is (because we ALL know that man gets a tummy ache when the wind changes direction)

Side note: The fact that I love making sickfics/ranting about how I love the triplets tummies (because let's be fr they have the cutest damn tummies) yet I have severe emetophobia needs to be studied. Hope you enjoy! <3

☆ Matt is in a constant state of "my tummy hurts :("

☆ He has a box of stuff in the bathroom he uses whenever he gets a stomachache, full of pepto bismol, mints, electrolyte mixes, and a heating pad.

☆ If Chris and Nick go into Matt's bedroom and see "the box" sitting on his bed, they know to tread lightly and let him sleep off his upset tummy.

☆ Unless he's really really stressed or it's migraine related, he never really gets nauseous but when he does, you can usually find him huddled under a blanket, right next to the toilet just in case

☆ Filming can be a bit rough when he has a tummy ache but usually his brothers are nice about it.

☆ "We're gonna need to film a little later." "... Matt's stomach?" "Matt's stomach."

☆ Matt 🖤 tummy rubs

☆ He will literally fall asleep like a child if your hand is gently rubbing circles onto his warm tummy. Whether or not he has a stomach ache, he's out like a light.

☆ Fetal position in the center of his bed contemplating life with his heating pad below his belly button>>>

☆ Matt is THE tummy ache warrior 🤺

I see your requests and I raise you... trying to finish them. But they are getting done, no fear! It takes a bit because I also write on wattpad so I usually work on a chapter for wattpad, fic for tumblr, chapter, fic, etc. Love you my little stars 😁💫

[cutiecorner]

I'm not gonna lie I have such a fondness for parents taking care of their regressed kids... I know that would be awkward and complicated in real life but in a fictional context it makes me so soft...

Question: do your parents know you regress? Do they interact at all/are they supportive?

[januscorner]

Agere Hunter Stimboard + Headcannons

❤️🪐🐺 📍🥹🪡 🐕🌗💔

Fictional agere challenge! Day 5: A character you hc as a flip

Hunter less goes back to a specific time so much as just enters a childlike mindset, mimicking a childhood he never got to have

He semi-regressed in secret while still with Belos but did it a lot more frequently after arriving in the human realm

After discovering cosmic frontier he acts like a little kid going through a space phase

He was the first to find out Luz regressed to and became her caregiver

He likes sewing toys for Luz

Willow takes care of Hunter while he’s while regressed

[swee7dream]

slowly but surely zhong chenle x f!reader

genres agere content, angst, fluff warnings internalized anti-agere, mention of a panic attack but not in depth. lmk if i missed any ! wc 2.3k dni if you sexualize age regression

summary it's the end of the year but you are finding it very difficult to be in celebratory mood.

dni: if you sexualize age regression and/or have an 18+ blog.

You’re going to quit your job.

You are, you’re making a promise to yourself about it and you have already decided to honor the promises you make to yourself this coming year. You are going to quit your job and nothing is going to stand in your way this time.

Only your boss would talk about an end-of-year party as a ‘compulsory team meeting’. You were supposed to have a nice simple evening with Chenle at home, making dinner together and then watching the fireworks until one of you falls asleep. A nice simple evening that did not have you hyperventilating in the bathroom out of fear you would be let go.

The plan was to stop by the store as soon as you finished your shift to ensure you got the freshest ingredients for the pesto pasta recipe you found on Pinterest and get more than the advised portions because you know for a fact half of it will end up on your kitchen floor when the play-fighting gets out of hand.

It was meant to be a night of relaxing and reflecting and not any of what you are feeling right now: stressed, angry, and murderous.

You take a sniff of your clothes as you walk from the bus stop back home, wondering if you can still wear this jacket out tomorrow or if you’ll smell like you bathed in alcohol fully dressed. Moisture seeps through your boot and into your sock from a puddle you didn’t notice on the sidewalk a couple of minutes back and you feel your entire body rejecting the sensation.

You mumble to yourself while doing quick work of inputting the PIN code to your front door lock, squeezing your eyes tight in an attempt to bring moisture back to your dried-out eyes.

‘Bath, color, cuddle, sleep. Bath, color, cuddle, sleep. Bath, color, cuddle, sleep!’

The plan for the night repeats like a broken record in your mind, mentally pushing yourself to go on just a little longer. You let out a sigh of relief when the lock finally sings its tune of entrance after three failed attempts.

“There’s my girl. I thought someone was trying to break in or something.”

The mental image of you talking with your dolls and stuffed animals shatters like a priceless vase, the shards amounting to the grains of sand in the sea.

“Hi.” You drop your bag on the floor the second you have a foot inside. You were so excited about tonight, how could you forget so quickly? Your boyfriend is so excited to see you and all you can think about is how you want everyone to die, that’s rich.

“Hey.” Chenle’s smile drops at your lack of enthusiasm. “You okay?”

“Okay… Just tired. ‘m gonna take a bath, ‘kay?” Your lips barely part as you speak and your feet don’t lift an inch from the floor, shuffling down the hallway instead. Tongue trapped between your teeth, you stop yourself from saying something you’ll regret on the way to the bathroom.

—

Your own gasp wakes you and you find that you’ve fallen asleep in the tub. How long have you been asleep? The water’s not exactly warm anymore and you see your fingertips have pruned up like raisins. You poke at them while leaning over the edge before sighing. Chenle’s out there waiting for you, you remind yourself, you can’t just stay pruned up like this forever.

Only for a little bit longer. You hug your knees to your chest and rest your cheek on one of them as you watch all the water from your bath swirl down the drain like a whirlpool. You can’t help but blow your lips together, mimicking the sounds you think pirates caught in a whirlpool would make.

A knock at the door.

“Everything alright in there?”

“Uh, yeah. Sorry. I’m getting dressed now. I’ll be right there.” The sound of your voice surprises you, feeling it’s much deeper than it should be for some reason.

The heat coming up from the vents is still too cold for you and although you know you should keep moving to feel warm, you find it much more comfortable to just stand in place on the rug.

Water drips off you and onto the rug and the towel wrapped tight around you where you shiver. Your hair is wet and heavy and if looks could kill, the shirt you planned to change into would be on fire at the moment. The feeling of heavy, damp hair wetting your new shirt makes you roll your eyes a bit, but the knowledge of your boyfriend on the other side of the door pushes you to endure it.

You’re in your own home but you sure don’t act like it, shuffling shyly out of the bathroom with uncertain steps.

“Le?”

“Oh.” He looks up from the shelf he was carefully inspecting before. “Hey baby. Good bath?”

“…yeah. What are you holding?”

“This?” He lifts his hand. “It’s one of your crayons. I found it lying on the floor and was just looking where to put it back.”

“It’s not mine,” You state firmly with a swift snatch. “It’s my nephew’s. He came over recently.”

“…your nephew colors with glitter crayons?” Chenle tries not to eye the grip you have that crayon in.

“Yeah. He does. Is that a problem?” You tuck the crayon into the pocket of your pajama pants quickly and make your way over to the kitchen.

“It’s not a problem, I just didn’t know he moved on so fast from his ‘arts and crafts is boring’ stage.”

“He’s coming around to it.” You move around the kitchen quickly, filling and turning on the kettle.

“Good for him.” Chenle stands slowly, when did his back start hurting like this? Is he getting old? Well, he is already balding. But that’s because of the hair dye, right? It’ll grow back. Probably.

“Yeah.” You toss a tea bag into a mug. “That’s just how kids are. Thank you for finding it.”

“Mhm.”

He takes notice of how you haven’t made eye contact with him since you snatched the crayon from him, how you still don’t. You try cracking your knuckles and wrists again and again, ignoring the fact that you already did before and nothing will pop for the next while or so.

You’re lying.

Why are you lying?

“Well, now I’m jealous.” Chenle leans on the counter with his forearms, teasing smile gently nudging you to at least look his way. “How come that little kid gets to color with my girlfriend when even I haven’t done that before?”

You don’t reply but his eyes follow how you swallow an invisible lump in your throat.

“It’s not like we have the ingredients to cook dinner tonight anyway, why don’t we just spend our home date tonight just coloring? You have more crayons, right?”

“No,” You reply immediately, turning away to get the kettle when it dings. “He just left this one. Why would I have any crayons? Do you think I’m a five-year-old?”

“I never said that.” He stands up, a frown of confusion painting his face.

“Right. Well, I don’t have any of those. And I don’t want to do a coloring date. I’m dating an adult, I would like to feel like I am.”

“Adults can color.”

“No they can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because they can’t.”

The kitchen is quiet, the single noise of the spoon mixing the tea and honey in your mug. With each second of silence, the control you have on your breathing weakens.

You do want to color. You want to doodle and draw and give Chenle all your stickman drawings. You want him to show you his pictures and you want to hear him praise the color you chose for the sun’s sunglasses. You want him to color with you and play with you until you’re all tired out. When you’re asleep you want him to cradle you and cuddle you, kiss you on the forehead, and hum you lullabies in an undertone.

But it’s also so unreasonable to demand that.

He has a life just as stressful if not more than yours, to throw all your burdens on him to bear, even if just for a few hours, is wrong. You would feel too guilty. Chenle’s dating an adult, not babysitting a child. Dating you should be an option, not a burden.

“They can’t?”

“They can’t.” You shake your head, voice breaking.

Chenle takes you into arms before you fully break, leaving all your tears to stain his t-shirt. His fingers dig into your hair and your whole body shivers when you feel his nails gently scratch against your scalp.

“I’m going to be honest with you, Princess, I don’t really know what happened today. Or if it’s something you’ve been dealing with for a long time… Either way, I’m sorry. If I’m the reason you’re crying right now, I’m sorry. And I’m also sorry for not knowing what I’ve done wrong. I’m kind of slow on the uptake at times. If I’m not the reason you’re crying, I’m sorry you went through that, or, are going through that. I don’t really know…

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. You looked like you were about to drop dead as soon as you walked in tonight so I wouldn’t blame you. I probably should have left earlier but I couldn’t help it. It’s the last day of the year and I really wanted to spend it with you. I’m kind of clingy like that, I guess. I was on my way here and… I was thinking how I would be ending this year and starting this next year with you and- and I wanted this to be how every year will be. Forever. Or, until you don’t it want to. Because I don’t feel like I will ever not want to be with you. I’m like… obsessed with you. But not to a point where I won’t leave if you tell me to leave. I definitely will leave if you ask me to leave. Do you want me to go? I can go. You look tired and I’m keeping you up-”

“No.” You interrupt, speaking into his chest. “Stay.”

“Okay. Yeah, I’ll stay.”

“But… I think I am gonna nap.”

“Yeah… Yeah, you should. I’ll just stay out here.”

“You’re an idiot.” You blurt. “A big dumb idiot. You’re dumb.”

“…yeah.”

“Want you to nap with me. Cuddle. Carry me.”

“Carry you…?” Chenle looks down at you, feeling whiplash at how quickly your moods change. He doesn’t question it though, melting at the sight of your big watery eyes. “Yeah, okay. Your wish is my command.”

You smile as you feel his arms wrap around you, his cologne entering your nose and giving you an incomparable high. His steps are slow and uncertain, careful to not hit your head on any doorframes. He begins lowering you onto the bed but your arms don’t loosen around his neck.

“Sorry too.” You whisper.

“For what?”

“Callin’ you dumb. You’re not dumb.”

“Thank you.” Chenle smiles, his eyes disappearing into thin little moons. “But, I am actually a little dumb.”

“No.” You frown as if the person offended was you. “Not dumb.”

“No?”

“No.” You insist. “’m the dummy.”

“What? No, Princess.” He sits on the side of the bed when his neck begins to hurt from the angle. “How could you think that?”

“’Cause,” Your eyes drop to his shirt, suddenly extremely interested in the wrinkles of his shirt. “Dunno. Thought you wouldn’t like me.”

“Wouldn’t like you? Baby, why would I not like you?”

“’Cause ‘m a dummy!” You whisper-yell at him as if he wasn’t listening. “Was bein’ mean earlier and takin’ stuff and… just wasn’t bein’ nice. And then I thought that you wouldn’t like me if I… I dunno.”

“If what?”

“If there was like… a side o’ me you didn’t really like. ‘n’ I scared you away… Don’t wanna be a bother, y’know?”

“You’re not a bother, Baby.” Chenle presses a kiss to your temple. “You’re my responsibility. I choose to do all these things. You’re never a bother. Never ever. Even if you get sick or get kicked out of your house or… I don’t know. No matter what, I choose to stay with you.”

“What if you choose to stop staying with me?”

“Did you kill someone?”

“No?”

“Then I think we can work through it.”

You giggle and lean back into him. He says such silly things with such confidence that he almost makes you believe it. Maybe one day you will.

“Oh shoot, your tea. I’ll be right back.”

The bed creaks under you as he gets up, the fireworks of overly-zealous celebrators with seemingly broken clocks lighting up his side profile pinks and purples through the window.

You stare at him and feel a warmth grow deep in your heart, an uncontrollable smile painted on your face. Chenle looks back at you with a confused smile, but you can see the same love in your heart in his eyes.

Yeah.

You also think that this is right. You don’t know if it’s for forever yet, but you sure hope it will be. That this year and the next and all the years until you’re both stars in the sky you two will be together. The fireworks will light up your faces when you’re both wrinkly and gray, wearing the same dorky grins you wear tonight.

You’re afraid, but you can feel that soon you’ll introduce a new side of yourself to Chenle. As he gets in the bed with you, looking out the window of your bedroom with his arm around your waist, the anxiety is the tiniest bit smaller than it was this morning. Slowly but surely, you know in your heart the day when you can show your heart bare to him will come and you’re not afraid

Maybe you’re afraid now but you know it’s only a matter of time before you free fall into his arms without a second thought. It's inevitable, you smile to yourself.

a/n: STRESSING to post this before the new year lolz. also, i hope y'all know that reader was toned down SO much over the drafts. when i get overstimulated i start wanting ppl to die and it's never that serious...... i rly had to get rid of that quality when writing for reader LOLOLOL OK ENJOY REBLOG GIVE KUDOS ALL THAT STUFF THAT TUMBLR LIKES LOVE U ALL HOPE U HAVE THE BESTEST 2024

[cigarettecemetary]

Sweet Boy -Sturniolo Triplest🍼

Pairing: Matt Sturniolo with Cg!Nick and Cg! Chris Sturniolo

Summary: Matt has been stressed out lately and he’s gotten to the verge of slipping but has been avoiding it because of work. After an incident with a fan and her friends he finds himself unable to prevent himself any longer. His brothers are quick to take their caregiver duties and be there for him.

Warnings: mentions of sexual comments towards Matt, crying, slight panic attack(?)

A/N: this is an age regression fic. No usage of y/n. ive seen little of Cg!Nick or even Little!Nick but i have seen plenty of Cg!Chris with reader and Little!Matt so i decided to make one with Cg!Nick and Cg!Chris taking care of Matt🤍 Hope you enjoy! With love and cigarette smoke, Moxxie<3

Matt had been avoiding something he usually did when he was alone, which was age regressing. It helped calm him when he was anxious or overwhelmed but with all the work he had to do, he avoided it as much as possible, but it was taking a tole on him.

His brothers knew well of his regression and offered to be his caregivers due to their knowledge of it and as he didn’t have one, but regressing in front of them was a step he wasn’t ready for.

Matt let out a silent sigh as he turned into the driveway of McDonald’s. He pulled up, Nick poking his head out the window ordering for the three of them. As Matt pulled up to get the food, Chris noticed he seemed… off.

“Hey Matt, you good?” He asked, handing Nick his food. Matt nodded slowly. Poor kid looked exhausted, the eyebags visible underneath his eyes.

“Do we need to go anywhere else?” Matt asked softly, his voice softer than normal.

Chris shook his head, looking back at Nick. The two knew of Matt’s regression, but Matt had yet to do it in front of either of them yet.

“C’mon let’s film this video so we can get you home and you can lay down. How’s that sound?” Nick asked Matt gently, reaching over and rubbing his shoulder. Matt met Nick’s eyes, nodding.

“Perfect. We’ll do our best to make it quick.” Chris said, rubbing Matt’s arm. Matt nodded to Chris as well as he drove to an empty driveway to film.

“Oh I bet Matt would love to eat this!” Chris joked, showing the two a picture of rice with ketchup on top. Matt cringed and slumped down in his seat whining slightly. Nick chuckled reaching behind Matt, rubbing his back.

“It’s okay Matt. It’s not here, you don’t have to eat it. You’re okay.” Nick whispered soothingly to Matt, who leaned into his gentle touch.

After the video was done they went home and Matt went to his room to lay down. Chris went to shower and Nick edited the video, posting it.

It had been two days since the video and a lot of comments were pointing out how quiet and soft Matt’s voice had been. Matt tried to ignore the comments, embarrassed that he had been so close to slipping in front of their audience.

“Matt are you sure you’re okay? You’ve seemed so tired lately.” Nick asked, rubbing his brother’s shoulders as Matt laid on top of him.

“Mhm..” Matt murmured softly, comfortably moving closer to Nick, who ran his hands gently through Matt’s hair as the watched a movie.

Chris came in with snacks, setting them on the table, kissing Matt’s forehead before sitting down on the floor by his legs.

Matt reached his arms out towards Chris, who scooted closer allowing Matt to wrap his arms around him.

“You doing okay?” Chris asked him. Matt nodded, sighing softly. The three watched the movie before all curling up together falling asleep.

It had been around a month and it was time to do a meet-and-greet. Matt stood in the middle between Chris and Nick as the people came up and hugged them to take a picture.

Matt must’ve been looking good because the fans were eating him up. As a girl walked up to them giving them a hug, she turned to her friends.

“He’s so hot guys! God i want him to take me so badly!” She gushed, as her friends also made comments similar to hers. Matt looked down, embarrassed and getting nervous and overwhelmed. His brain started to get fuzzy, his eyes watering. His breathing became ragged and eventually became heavy gasps for air.

Nick noticed this immediately, asking them to leave politely before getting pissed off.

“Look, there’s others here to see us too so please.” Nick snapped slightly. The girls rolled their eyes and walked off. Nick rushed back over to Matt, whose breathing was much worse.

“She should’ve kept her big mouth shut. How could she say that about him? He’s a person too.” Chris hissed to Nick. The youngest triplet had his arms around Matt as Matt buried his face in Chris’s shoulder. The two immediately shared a glance, knowing Matt was beginning to slip. All the signs were crystal clear.

“Let’s get you home okay?” Nick said to Matt. Matt looked over at Nick, the tears continuing to fall down his face as he nodded.

“P-pl..ease.” Matt hiccuped, the tears falling harder. Nick wrapped his arms around him protectively as they made their way to the car.

They waited patiently for Matt to be calm enough to drive home. Once they arrived, Nick was the first one out the car. He rushed to Matt’s door, opening it and helping him out.

“C’mon let’s get you to bed.” He whispered as Chris opened the door for them. Nick led Matt to his room and turned his light off, turning on his lamp. He led Matt to his bed before going to Matt’s room, grabbing his little space bag.

“I’ll get him a bottle.” Chris offered to Nick who nodded gratefully before rushing back to Matt.

“Sorry, I’m back sweet boy.” Nick said, setting the bag down. Matt let out a soft whimper, clearly shy but too far slipped and way too emotional to care. His face was tear stained, eyes red.

Chris came in with the bottle, handing it to Nick. He walked over to Matt, kissing his forehead before walking out telling him he’d be right back. Matt extended his arms out as Chris left, letting out a sad whine.

“Shh it’s okay honey. C’mere.” Nick said softly, leaning back on his bed as Matt crawled to him curling into his side. “How are you feeling?”

“S-sca.. er.. u-uncomfy..” Matt whimpered, rubbing his eyes in slight frustration. He always got nervous and couldn’t think of words when he was overwhelmed.

“It’s okay take your time sweet boy.” Nick said, rubbing Matt’s back. Matt shook his head, whimpering again, reaching for his bottle. Nick gave it to him, his arms around him gently.

As Matt finished his bottle, he yawned. He glanced at the door seeing Chris walking in.

“C-Cwis!” Matt squealed, extending his arms again. Chris smiled and laid on the other side of him.

“Hey there buddy. You sleepy yet?” He asked as Matt turned over, snuggling into him. He yawned again, nodding. Nick rolled over as well, Matt grabbing his arm and putting it around him.

“Goodnight sweet boy.” Nick whispered.

“N-ni ni.” Matt whispered. Chris and Nick shared a smile at Matt’s way of saying goodnight when being little.

“Goodnight bud.” Chris whispered as the three fell asleep.

[dragon-queen21]

@donutxd1122 thanks for the idea!

Aether regressing after getting hurt from a ruin guard. A certain Adeptis being called before things could escalate too badly and Paimon trying to calm the little one down.

[quinnysnursery]

[👻] bad dog | colby brock one-shot

paring : little!colby brock x toxic/abusive!cg!oc (+ some cg!sam, if you squint)

summary : pure angst just pure pure angst honestly

warning/extra tid-bits : emotional and physical abuse, crying, injury, abandoning a little, swearing, all hurt NO comfort

word count : 892

divider credit : umm i found all the photos on pinterest :3 (x's on the bottom are by @saradika-graphics)

a/n : I BLAME @nicksbestie THEY CALLED ME THE ANGST QUEEN AND I COULDN'T DISSAPOINT /j /lh ALSO in no way am i trying to romantize or glorify these types of relationships, i'm simply writing angst. (sorry for any typos, i'm just a girl!)

“I get mean when I’m nervous, like a bad dog”

Colby gasped as he pushed away his caregiver’s hand- if you could even call her that. Caregivers didn’t yell at their littles, caregivers didn’t throw things two inches from their littles heads…and caregivers definitely didn’t make their littles shake in fear.

“Don’t push me away, I’m helping you.” She spoke, her tone only making the fear worse. “Go ‘way!” Colby sobbed, scooting himself further into the corner. His caregiver scoffed, standing up. “Fine, deal with your tantrum yourself.”

“I get mean when I’m nervous, like a bad dog”

“No!” Colby screamed, pulling his wrist away from his “caregiver”. “Don’t you yell at me!” She yelled, grabbing a random object off the countertop and chucking it at the man in front of her. “Ungrateful piece of shit!” 

Maybe that was true. Colby did yell at her, which he knew wasn’t okay. It wasn’t respectful or kind…but he only yelled after she snatched his wrist so hard it brought immediate tears to his eyes. Colby looked down at his arm, now red and sore.

Why should he be grateful for that?

“I want to jump into blue water”

Colby sniffled as he wrung out the washcloth before bringing the damp cloth to his face. He looked down as the cold water trickled into the sink, he tapped his phone screen- frowning at the time.

1:30 am.

Sam would surely be asleep, he should be too. His mind was still clouded with a slight haze, leaving him halfway regressed. Jennifer had stormed out after throwing the glass cup at his face, threatening to never come back.

Was it wrong that Colby prayed it wasn’t an empty threat this time?

“And I miss riding horses,”

He missed filming videos with Sam- actually, he just missed Sam in general. Their channel was dependent on pre-shot videos…their friendship depending on iMessages and the occasional phone call.

Despite their phone calls only happening once a blue moon, Sam asked the same question every time. 

“You good? You sound tired, man.”

Colby promised him he was fine every time, not wanting to worry the blonde man. He’d done this to himself. He was the one who decided to follow Jennifier to Colorado, leaving his best friend behind.

 As Colby looked in the mirror at his injured cheek, he knew he wasn’t “fine”. 

“I miss running fast,”

Sometimes- just before Colby closed his eyes for the night- he’d think about his favorite memories with Sam. He knew it was wrong, he was the one who chose to move two states away. He’d chosen this life away from Sam. Colby knew if Jennifer ever found out, he’d be in for a whirl of hurt. 

Emotionally and physically. 

He always fell deeper into his regression before bed. If he had it his way, he’d be in his caregiver’s arms. It wasn’t always like this- Jennifer used to be nice. She used to hold Colby, reading him story after story until he fell asleep.

It was only after she got him far away from Sam that the throwing, yelling and periods of abandonment started. 

Colby sniffled, rubbing his baggy sleeve over his eyes to wipe away his tears. 

“Just think of Sammy, Sammy’ll make it better.” His brain told him.

He was right. He thought about running through the empty fields of Kansas with his best friend. When the two moved to LA together, they ran up and down their neighborhood street. Sam liked the exercise- Colby liked spending time with his best friend.

Sam had known about his coping mechanism, because of course he did. Sam wasn’t just his best friend, he was his business partner. Of course Sam knew about Colby’s regression.

Once he fell while running- which sent him straight into his headspace. Sam didn’t miss a beat in comforting the little, assuring him he was the “bravest boy in the word”. 

Laying in bed all on his own, tears streaming down his face, Colby didn’t feel like the bravest boy in the world. He just felt like an idiot.

“I pretended you were mine,”

“I’ve got you, it’s okay.” Sam’s voice told him, arms like pillows as he cradled Colby close. “Sammy?” The dark-haired man sniffled, looking up at his best friend. 

“It’s okay bud, Sammy’s got you.” The blonde promised him, holding Colby tightly. As if Colby would ever dream of leaving his best friend’s side again. “S-Sammy,” The little choked out, holding onto the blonde’s plush hoodie. 

Sam shushed him, fingers dancing in Colby’s hair. It was nice. It was soothing.

“I’ve got you bud, nobody’s gonna hurt you. Never again.” Sam promised, taking a deep set pressure off of Colby’s shoulders. 

 “It made me calm.”

Colby gasped, shooting up out of his sleep. “Sammy?” He called, looking around him and Jennifier’s room. 

Oh.

Him and Jennifer’s room.

Colby frowned, tears budding in the corner of his eyes as he attempted settling back into the empty bed. Sam wasn’t in Colorado, Sam wasn’t saving Colby from Jennifer.

Sam was nearly a thousand miles away, but tonight..tonight Colby would pretend he was right next to him, because it made the pain in his cheek- and wrist- and heart- hurt a little less.

Colby would pretend Sam was his caregiver tonight, because it made him calm.

taglist !! :

@beesonhoneytoast @mattssturnz @mattsturniologf444 @graceslittlecorner @zivall @hrtz4alex2211 @bimbob1tch @cherry-red-heart @https--roman @frlinbruh @jazminepetit-homme @raynaaxx

[nicksbestie]

Hey Pooks, I have another self-indulgent request…

I’m coming up on a year clean of SH, there’s no way I could have gotten this far without my friends. I was curious if you could write a fic about Jake/Johnnie either helping the reader during the healing process or celebrating her accomplishments during recovery.

I’m sure that you have a lot of requests at the moment, but I absolutely adore your work.

-🫠

Recovery - Jake Webber

Summary : Recovery is an incredibly hard process, but your best support system are your friends <3

Pairing : Jake Webber/Reader (platonic)

Warnings : mentions of self harm, read at your own discretion!!!!

Word Count : 829

A/N : this was such a heartwarming request :( i'm so proud of you anon!!! as someone coming up on two years of being sh-free next week, i know firsthand how difficult this can be!! you're doing great, keep going!!! <3 to anyone struggling or needing someone to talk to, my anon box is always open, and so are my dms. you're never alone!!

Addiction is so difficult. It is arguably one of the hardest things that a human can go through. And with that, recovery becomes nearly impossible in a lot of cases. 

You had been struggling with a self harming addiction for a long time, and had finally gotten onto the stable path of recovery. You knew firsthand just how difficult this was, and had fallen into many relapses before you had gotten to the point that you were at right now. If someone had told you a couple of years ago that you would be here, right now, you probably would’ve laughed in their face. 

You knew there was no way that you could’ve gotten to the point that you were at now without your closest friends. They had been your support system through everything, not turning away or ever making you feel bad about it when you had been deep in addiction. They had always been caring and loving, making sure that they were there whenever you needed or asked them to be.

You could think of so many times off of the top of your head when they had genuinely be the best people in your life. Your family wasn’t incredibly supportive, blaming you more than anything else, so that had left you with just your friends. Grateful didn’t even come close to covering how you felt for them. 

There had been a time when you had been relapsing, badly, and trying to hide it, feeling that there was the chance of your friends being upset with you, the anxiety and shame of what you’d done completely clouding your judgment. In your panic, you’d forgotten that Jake was due to be coming over that afternoon, and when he let himself in, you freaked out.

However, instead of the angry reaction that you had been anxiously expecting, Jake had been gentle, kind, and overall more than you had ever hoped for. You’d never had someone sit down with you, letting you cry your feelings out, and help you clean up. He sat in the bathroom with you, keeping gentle pressure on your wounds, halfway hugging you in between adjusting his hold, and making sure that you were sitting steady. He’d gently helped you bandage up the cuts, making sure that all of them were clean.

His hands, despite being large, were incredibly accurate and soft. You didn’t feel any excessive pain, but that may have been due to how out of it you were. You’d stopped crying by this point, but you were now exhausted, and didn’t feel good. Jake cleaned up the blood with no complaints, waving you off when you tried to help him. After that, he had pulled you into another hug, before gently settling you on the couch, cuddling with you for a while and making sure you ate something.

He refused to leave your side for many days after that. He stayed next to you, making sure that you were aways comfortable, had something to eat and drink, and took your meds, because he could tell that you hadn’t been taking them. He ordered food whenever you needed some, and never made you do more than lifting a finger to do anything. He had been your biggest supporter for years, but this week really brought the two of you even closer than you had ever thought you would be.

There had been another time where you had called him over, desperate for someone to distract you, and you swear he had never driven his car faster. He had stayed on the phone with you the entire time, getting there as quickly as possible, and had wrapped his arms around you, sitting with you to make sure you couldn’t do anything drastic. There were a ton of days that you would swear he saved your life, and both of those incidents fell under those days.

So that lead you to now, tears on your waterline, threatening to fall as you stood inside your front door, seeing a large balloon blown up in the shape of a “1” in your kitchen, Jake standing there with a huge smile on his face and a cake. He had promised you months ago that he was going to celebrate your year anniversary of being clean when you got there, but you hadn’t thought you would ever get there. You hadn’t thought that he would remember either, so you were shocked when you walked in to this. 

He immediately hugged you, making sure you didn’t cry, and began to cut the cake. It had “One Year!” written on it in curly red icing, and he passed it to you with a small card. It had his scrawly handwriting on the inside of it.

“I’m so proud of you!! One year down, many to go. You’re incredible.”

You had a huge smile on your face by this point, incredibly proud of yourself as well. 

“I couldn’t have done it without you.”

~ taglist : @jake-and-johnnies-slut @gvf23 @elliem505 @ilydeaky @maryx2xx @oobleoob @aemrsy @blahbel668 @mystic-maniac @maddytheweird @707xn @jasperthefriendlyghostt @camille-1019 @anaavolibila @not-phone-guy

~ if you'd like to be added to my johnnie and jake taglist, click here!

~ my inbox is open, come chat!! <3

[pahtoosh]

too much

[image ID: a gif of Chris Evans and Sebastian Stan sitting next to each other and cocking their heads to the side. made by tumblr user weird-mumbling. /.end ID]

masterlist

18+

wc: ~6700 words (my longest one yet!)

warnings: slight angst. baby is overstimulated and has a meltdown. steve calls you sweetheart. bucky calls you babydoll. written on my phone.

a/n: i honestly had a really bad night. i was so overwhelmed and tired. it was five am and i couldn’t sleep bc it was so hot, so i started writing this. it was incredibly therapeutic for me and i hope it helps some of you too🤍

pairing: daddy!stucky x gn!little!reader (Dada = Steve, Baba = Bucky, Daddies = both Steve and Bucky)

summary: you’ve been holding in your stress for far too long. tonight’s party pushes you past your tipping point.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Tony was throwing a party to celebrate the team’s latest successful mission. Being the man that he is, he didn’t exactly need an excuse to throw a party, but he’d been on an “extravaganza cleanse” as he liked to call it. His last bash was nearly three months ago, so he’d surely be going all-out with this latest one. A couple weeks ago, the idea of a party excited you.

But these last few days have been terrible.

You kept running into problems left and right. Some of them weren’t a big deal on their own, but all together and combined with the stress of a party and the possibility of having to meet new people—maybe lots of new people—you’d had enough.

It was the day of the party. You’d been a little quiet all morning and afternoon, trying to conserve your energy. Steve and Bucky asked you if there was anything you needed to talk about, but you couldn’t find the words so you just shook your head.

They shared a worried look out of your glance while you continued forcefully stabbing fruits onto your fork from your afternoon snack.

It was now an hour before the party and your daddies decided to tidy up the place before leaving so your little family could come back to a clean home. Normally, you’d be alongside them cleaning too but they let you stay in your room because you were having a rough day.

The noises from cleaning brought you to your breaking point. As your mind raced, the sounds of the vacuum cleaner and Steve’s record player taunted you. It was as if you were being pulled in all directions with no end in sight.

A more focused baby might have put on their noise canceling headphones, but you were too overwhelmed to do anything more than lie in bed, eyes closed, with your palms pressed to your ears. You missed the sound of the vacuum cleaner turning off and your door opening. A gentle tap on your foot had you startled.

Eyes now wide open, you stared at Bucky with your hands still covering your ears. He took note of your distress and tried speaking as gently as possible.

“Hey, babydoll. Was the vacuum cleaner too loud for you?”

You nodded.

“Aw, Baba’s sorry about that. Dada and I are getting ready for the party now, do you wanna join us? Everyone’s so excited to see you.”

You were conflicted. On one hand, you really really didn’t want to even leave your bed right now. On the other, your daddies had been looking forward to this party and you didn’t want to disappoint them.

As you stared at Bucky, ears still covered and brow now furrowed, Steve walked in holding one of your new t-shirts on a hanger.

“I got someone’s new lucky dino shirt,” he said in a sing-song voice. He halted at the doorway, sensing the tension. The extra set of eyes on you and reminder that the party was happening now was the last straw.

You lost it. You burst into tears, flipping over and sobbing into your pillow. You pressed your hands even harder against your ears and kicked your feet on the bed.

“TOO MUCH! TOO MUCH TOO MUCH TOO MUCH!” you wailed.

You yelled until you couldn’t anymore. Your bed shook from the force of your movements.

Steve and Bucky watched, heartbroken as sobs racked your body. Steve set down the shirt and stood next to Bucky who was still sitting at the foot of the bed. They held each other’s hand, unsure of what to do at the moment. Normally, they’d be calming you down with a hug or a pat on the back but it seemed like touching you right now would only add to your overstimulation.

It was only minutes before your meltdown came to a stop, but it felt like you’d been screaming forever. Your cries died down, leaving you hiccuping into your pillow.

“Sweetheart?” Steve called out. “You don’t have to go to the party, it’s okay. We’ll all stay home tonight.”

You shook your head, still facing the pillow.

“No? You wanna go to the party?”

You shook your head again. “Daddies go. I stay.” Your words were muffled by the pillow but the punctual nature of your speech and your daddies’ super hearing allowed them to hear the message.

“Babydoll, we can’t leave you here alone,” Bucky started.

You kicked your legs again. “Go! Go go go!”

Bucky took a breath. He didn’t want to upset you anymore, but you were crossing boundaries. “Hey, that’s no way to talk to your Baba. You can’t stay home alone, you know this. Now, please be the big kid we know you are and tell us what’s wrong.”

You sniffled. Baba was right. You couldn’t stop or control the meltdown, but it was time to make things right now that you’d calmed down slightly. You flipped over slowly, hands now only partially covering your ears.

“S-sorry Baba. Sorry Dada,” you hiccuped. “I don’ wanna go. Is too much.” A tear rolled down your cheek and Steve instinctively wiped it away. You didn’t flinch: you were on the come down.

“We forgive you, baby. Now, we can’t let you stay home by yourself but how about a compromise? You can stay in your room and close the door. Baba and I will be in our room, quiet as a mouse,” Steve offered.

“You can take all the alone time you need. And if you need anything you can come to me and Dada or write us a note,” Bucky continued.

You gave the idea some thought. Some quiet alone time would’ve been helpful an hour or two ago. Now, you were tired and just wanted some love from your daddies. A little quiet together time sounded nicer than quiet alone time.

You shook your head. “Don’ wanna be alone nanymore. Can we watch cartoons? Just us and calm? And we cuddle?”

Your daddies cooed. “Of course, sweetheart. Do you wanna come here and give your daddies a hug?”

You nodded and got up to crawl to them. The three of you were squeezed onto your little bed, but you’d never been so comfortable. The pressure from your daddies’ strong arms and the group hug were very calming.

“May we kiss you, babydoll?”

“Yes. One at a time please.”

“Such a respectful baby we have,” Steve said, kissing your forehead.

Bucky agreed and pressed a kiss to your cheek.

The three of you migrated to the living room and you picked Arthur as the show for tonight. Steve prepared a plate with some of your safe foods in case you wanted a little snack before dinner. Bucky sat on the couch next to you, leaving you some space but you snuggled into his side, wanting the weight of his arm and the slight chill of the vibranium to help ground you.

Steve walked to the living room from the kitchen and set the plate down on the coffee table in front of you. “Am I allowed to join this cuddle session?” he asked.

You made grabby hands toward him, directing him to your left side. Your Dada placed his arm on the back of the couch so he could be closer to his two favorite people. He let you play with his other hand, twiddling around with his fingers while you watched the show.

Today might’ve had a rough start, but you ended up right where you belong.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃

likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated!

[sodoshame]

please please PLEASE write something with regressed!phantom being seen by dew for the first time. maybe it’s during the time that dew is mean to phantom because he took aethers place? something like that

thanks shadow! always love ur fics

Hello sweet anon! Sorry this took so long, I’m working my way through requests :) I hope this is what you are after!

Requests are still open if anyone wants anything, I’ll get to it when I can :)

Honey.

Regressed!Phantom & Dewdrop.

A/N: SFW like all my agere fics of course! Dew is a little mean at first but he gets nicer I swear. I also wrote this really fast on my phone so I apologise in advance!

_

Dewdrop was the only one up this late; the rumbling of the tour bus wasn’t lulling him to sleep like it usually did, so he gave up on trying to sleep and got out of his bunk to go and sit on the couch in the main area of the bus.

The ghoul had been sitting on the couch for almost an hour now, watching the TV at a low volume so it didn’t disturb anyone else. Upon hearing the door to the bunk area click open, Dew looked over, trying to make out who the figure in the doorway was. He squinted slightly, trying to adjust his eyes to the dark. The figure stepped forwards, the light from the TV illuminating him.

“Phantom? What do you want?” Dewdrop asked, his tone unnecessarily harsh. The young ghoul squeaked out a response, too quiet to hear.

“Fuck’s sake, speak up would you!?” Dew snapped, clenching his jaw.

Phantom stepped forwards again, allowing Dew to see him properly. The quintessence ghoul had the spade of his tail in his mouth, gently suckling on it. His hair was sticking up all over the place and he had tear tracks on his cheeks. He’d been crying.

Dewdrop sighs irritably, not quite yet realising the state of the poor ghoul.

“Speak, would you? Or go bother someone else.” Dew mutters, turning his attention back to the TV. He hears a little whimper from Phantom; he groans and looks back at him.

“Satanas, what is wrong with you?!” Dew snaps again.

That does it. Phantom bursts into tears.

“I- I had b-bad dream. Swissy i-is sleeping.” Phantom manages to stutter out between his sobs. His vocabulary is limited and his voice is muffled around his tail that is still in his mouth.

Immediately, Dew’s eyes widen. He hadn’t realised the state that the younger ghoul was in; Phantom was regressed and Dew had just yelled at him, making him burst into tears. The older ghoul sighs, standing up from the couch.

“Fuck- I mean shit- damn it! Okay, alright… Phantom?” Dew mumbles as he slowly approaches Phantom. The young ghoul backs away slightly, still sobbing.

“Hey, come on. I’m not gonna hurt you, quint.” Dew says, his voice softening. He holds his arms out to Phantom, offering him to come closer.

As Phantom toddled over to Dew, the fire ghoul realised just how little Phantom was; he was wobbly on his feet, sucking on the spade of his tail like a pacifier. Even the way he’s crying. He was regressed much younger than Dew had seen any of the other ghouls be.

“Oh, you’re really little right now, aren’t you?” Dew coos softly. Once Phantom is close enough, Dewdrop wraps him in a gentle hug and softly rubs his back.

Phantom says nothing, but allows himself to be wrapped in Dew’s arms. His crying has calmed down a little, but there are still tears running down his cheeks and his breathing is shaky.

“I’m sorry, little quint. I didn’t mean to shout at you, I didn’t realise that you’re-”

Dewdrop pauses and sighs.

“I shouldn’t have shouted at you, end of.” He mumbles.

The fire ghoul leads Phantom to the couch, getting him to sit down. Dew wraps his arms around the young ghoul, pulling him to his chest.

Phantom lets out a little whimper as he cries, burying his face into Dew’s shoulder.

“Shh, shh, shh. Don’t cry, honey. You’re okay. You’re safe.” He brings his hand up to run his fingers through Phantom’s messy hair, keeping one arm wrapped around him. The young ghoul brings his tail back to his mouth, suckling on it once again; Dew frowns as he watches him.

“Hey, quint, don’t do that please. It’s not good for your your tail, you’ll end up hurting it.” Dew says softly, trying to pull the tail out of the quintessence ghouls mouth. Phantom whines and looks up at Dew with big watery eyes. Dewdrop sighs, then fumbles about in his back pocket.

“Can you try this for me? It’s Mountain’s, but I’m sure he won’t mind you borrowing it.” He says, pulling a pacifier from his pocket and offering it to the young ghoul.

Phantom lets his tail drop out of his mouth and cautiously leans his face closer to the pacifier. Dew gently pushes it against his lips, encouraging him to take it. Phantom does, taking it into his mouth hesitantly. After a few minutes, he looks up at the older ghoul, grinning around the pacifier.

“You like the paci, bug?” Dew questions, stroking his fingers through Phantom’s hair. Phantom nods, softly sucking on the pacifier as he looks up at Dew.

“Maybe we’ll have to get you your own, huh? That sounds like a good idea?”

Phantom nods excitedly and starts shuffling around on couch, eventually planting himself on Dew’s lap. He curls up against him and nuzzles his face into the fire ghoul’s chest. Dewdrop watches him with a raised eyebrow and lets out a slight chuckle as Phantom settles himself in his lap.

“Oh, just gettin’ comfy, hm?” Dew coos softly, wrapping his arms back around Phantom’s body.

The quintessence ghoul hums quietly in response, already closing his eyes. He mumbles something into Dew’s chest.

“T’ank you, Dewy.”

Dewdrop all but feels his heart melt; he places a soft kiss to the top of Phantom’s head and cradles him to his chest.

“You’re welcome, baby bug.” Dew mumbles into Phantom’s hair.

Maybe he should give the new quintessence ghoul more of a chance. Maybe he shouldn’t take his anger about Aether on Phantom.

From that night on, Dewdrop vowed to himself that he wouldn’t ever hurt the young ghoul again; nor would he let anyone else.

[8-rae-rae-8]

Running, Running, Captured, Safe.

Summary: Graves is on the run after betraying the 141. He's exhausted and can't run anymore. He gets caught, and regresses in fear. Price and Ghost help him out.

Fic below the cut, but here's a link for those who prefer AO3

3k words

https://archiveofourown.org/works/53263258/chapters/134787823

A safe house was supposed to be safe. Backup after backup safehouse, yet Phillip was anything but safe. Under normal circumstances, he would have been safe. Being searched for by the 141 meant he wasn’t safe at all. There was no security each time he jumped from safehouse to safehouse, it simply left a trail. Opened and empty food containers on counters, messy blankets on the beds, still damp bathtub from showers. It left signs that he didn’t think to clean up before he was onto the next place.

The 141 had their reasons, just like Graves had his for running. Every second of his time had been plagued with a strong headache, it made things fuzzy in a way that was far too familiar. He abandoned his shadows, knowing some were dead, lost, or hopefully somewhere actually safe. Maybe even with their families, though Phillip knew not to hope too strong for that. Men like them hardly got their happy ending. With the 141 and Los vaqueros searching for all of them, it was a death sentence. Searching for Graves like their lives depended on it. No rock left unturned.

It was only a matter of time before they found him. In a shitty little apartment next to a main road, it was the only place he could find on such sort notice. Somewhere that wouldn’t be expected of him. Graves was on his own, that’s all he had to worry about. But he worried, and the headache only grew. 

He should have ran further, as far as he could go without leaving a paper trail. It was dangerous. Fucking careless. His head was cloudy, almost a static to his vision as he moved. Sleep was restless, his appetite was gone. All he thought to do was run, but his weary body wouldn’t make it under those conditions. He needed to go, find anywhere else. It just wasn’t an option as his body begged him for sustenance, for sleep. 

The bed was so welcoming… If he just laid down for a few minutes, it would be okay. He’d just rest his eyes, he told himself that was all he would do. The longer he laid there, the less control he had. His eyes closed, and his body finally went lax into the mattress. A crappy old thing, but it felt heavenly to him.

Thirty minutes, and he swore he set an alarm. But in a dream like state, it was hard to tell what was real. He let himself drift, believing an alarm had been set that would keep him safe.

Dull voices flooded through his ears as he began to wake. 

He counted as he listened, british, british, british, scottish… 

Fuck, he was a dead man. His breathing slowed until he managed to force himself to hold his breath. Phil clutched at the pillow under his head, laid on his side, curled up just a bit. Pain sputtered like an engine as it engulfed his body in quick surges until it settled back in his head. Silent. Stay silent, he told himself, as if that would get him out of any of this. He didn’t even have a weapon on him. Foolish mistake. 

Terror set deep in his bones, along with the burning of his tense muscles/

“Grab him, we’re leaving.” John Price, Graves noted. He was torn between wanting to shove his fist in his face, and wanting to cower… His eyes shut so tight it dazed him, or maybe it was the lack of oxygen. But he’d held his breath for longer.

Orders changed quickly.

“Stop.” He heard as steps approached his bedside. The fucking scot talking. “He’s awake.” 

Silence followed, Phillip assuming they were watching him. He kept holding his breath, even though his lips were probably going blue at that rate. Dizziness settled in. 

“Open your bloody eyes.” Ghost. The one he was unreasonably scared of. Something in him felt like it died, perhaps his pride. It was so far from what he had wanted when he had met them all. To end up a dead man at their hands… they’d kill him once he lost his usefulness. And to think he had thought that maybe, just maybe, they could have been okay. His orders fucked it all up. 

As much as he wanted it all to be over, and to just be home again. A knot formed in his throat as his eyes flickered open. Blue eyes taking in the surroundings, specifically where each man stood. 

Price blocked the door. Ghost blocked the window, and the sargeants stood near the end of the bed. Chances of getting out with a pure adrenaline run plummeted to zero. He was completely fucked. If he hadn’t napped, he could have defended himself.

“Up, Graves.” The captain spoke harshly, arms crossed over his chest. 

By some miracle, Phil complied. There was no choice but to surrender. No shadows backed him, he was alone without a weapon on his hip. Fear forced him into agreeing with their wishes, he could only hope he’d be allowed out… All his things were in his car, they never made it to the apartment. He didn’t even need it all! Maybe just a blanket, his favorite one. He could cuddle up with it. A few minutes was all he needed. But he didn’t deserve it. He didn’t have to be told.

The men seemed equally surprised that Graves did as told. No bullshit, no snapping back. 

A big fist grabbed him by the back of his neck, as if he was scruffing him. A gloved hand, thinning on the trigger finger. Ghost. A breath forced it’s way into his lungs, and the dizziness slightly subsided. Gaz stood almost silent, glaring daggers his way. Hateful, like he should be. Yet it still hurt, buried deep into his chest, tightening the knot in his throat. 

His rigid arms were forced behind his back, held by another forceful hand. It promised quick injury if Phil even attempted to get away. 

There was a silent exchange between the four of them, before Ghost pushed Phil out of the apartment. Walking and walking. Every hall looked the same way, he hardly bothered to pay attention to the numbers on the wall. It all blurred together, like he was stuck in fog. Nothing was clear, just the end destination. Wherever the 141 wanted him, really. 

None of it was kind, he didn’t deserve kind. 

In a blink of an eye, Graves was put into the back of the 141’s transport. A black military transport van. Phil made no effort to buckle in, and just sat there instead, eyes glued to the floor. His blanket, he wanted his blanket. He ignored the orders spat at him from Ghost, something about buckling up and cooperating. Phil’s mind was elsewhere, if anywhere at all. He felt like fog was in his vision, in his head. Drowning things out, making it all fuzzy. This was the worst possible place to feel like that.

The others loaded up and the car began to move. Price took the seat closer to the front of the vehicle, Soap took a seat by Ghost, and Gaz took one closer to the rear view window. It all felt cramped, even though there was plenty of space. No one was touching him, but he could hear them talking, could feel them glaring. Or at least Soap and Gaz.

While Graves felt genuine fear and guilt. He’d hurt these men, but they hadn’t actually hurt him yet. The other shoe was bound to drop soon. Each glance around that he took, he tucked himself further and further back, resorting to staring out a window. 

Ghost watched him, hardly taking his eyes off. Phillip Graves being scared was a new thing completely. He was the fearless leader of the shadows, never taking no for an answer. Always fighting back. But there he was, trying to shrivel himself up like a depressed plant. Or shrinking back on himself like a scared kid. That’s how he felt. A scared kid. He had no defenses, just his neglected body that could only take a hit or two before it fell apart.

Phil’s lip was tugged into his mouth, teething working one spot till it was bare and bloody. His shoulders shook, but he had kept his hands at his sides. Once his legs were pulled up to his chest, he seemed to lose all the rest of his fight. His eyes wondered back to Ghost for just a moment, lingering on the mask then looking at his tac gear. The guns at his sides. 

“You scared of a Ghost, Graves?” The deeper voice spoke, boring a hole into the side of Graves’ head with his gaze.

His shoulders tensed before they shook harder, gaze immediately averted. The dim sky had his attention next, but just barely. Graves did what he could to square away, though half his face was still visible. Hot tears poured from his eyes within a few seconds. Yes, he was scared. Terrified. The mask only added to the fear. 

A small dribble of blood mixed with spit leaked down his chin. Phil gnawed at his lip, until something in it popped. He swallowed his own blood, while one hand covered his lips and chin. 

Graves attempted to shake his head. Weakness. They were only tolerating him now, the crying would only make it worse. But the tears kept falling, dampening his face. He was tired, hungry, sore, and scared. It was a mix that would make any little one sick. His legs worked quickly, forcing himself away from the group. Not buckled up, despite being told to minutes ago.

The tone in the van shifted as the others looked towards Price. It could all be a play to get them to lower their guard, they all were thinking the same thing.

But Price’s eyes were soft as he got up. A little one in distress, how could he not? With gentle steps, he came to Phil’s side, kneeling down next to him. 

“Graves,” The captain began, a hand resting on one of his knee, “I know you’re scared… But this is important.” He was firm, but still gentle. That mix of captain and father-like tones adding a bit of warmth to the air, but Graves only shivered.

His eyes squeezed closed after looking at Ghost one more time. Phil fearfully pushed his leg out in an effort to make more space between him and Price. A small nudge, he swore thats all it was. Then his leg was grabbed and put down forcefully, his cries only getting louder.

“We don’t kick, Phillip.” Price spoke in a much more stern tone, scolding him like he was a child. 

Graves whimpered at the tone. He’d been bad again. He didn’t mean to kick! His eyes opened, just to look apologetically at Price before he saw Ghost in the background and closed them again. The mask- he was terrified of it- Ghost’s mask scared him when he was already terrified enough. 

“Phil, we’re not going to hurt you, we just need to talk.. You’re in trouble right now, but we won’t hurt you. You have our word.” Price softened at that reaction, his hand resting back on Phil’s knees as he rubbed small circles. It didn’t work the way he wanted it to, the boy just wouldn’t even take a breath.

The reassurances felt like nothing more than empty promises. He was far too aware of the reasons he shouldn’t be allowed such comfort. He had been running so long while fully convinced they would hurt him, like he had done… Though not exactly willingly.

“N-no.. wanna go home!” Graves sniffled, his bloody lip poking out from his mouth as he spoke. Just more blood dripping down his cheek as he tried to pull himself away from all the contact.

“I know, kid. I know.” The captain stood, simply patting Graves on the back. He took a look around, silently checking in on his boys. The sobs grew louder when Price finally turned his back, as if he felt even worse now. 

The skeptical glances turned to ones that seemed genuinely concerned, confused even. The attempts Price made, no matter how half hearted it was, didn’t work enough to get Graves a single gasp of air. The tears fell harder, soaking the collar of his shirt as they fell down his face and neck. The bloody lip even making a mark as it dripped. 

The movement shifted, all fuzzy to Phil when he attempted to decipher the different people moving. He managed to figure that one was Ghost, but the others were lost on him. The heavy steps told him that Ghost was getting closer though. His own sobs drowned out a lot of it. 

Ghost saw himself in Graves as the sobbing continued. Though he had no idea how small the boy had regressed, he knew that he was small enough to not be able to rationalize this at all. Taken away from somewhere safe, just to be taunted or asked far too many questions, and maybe not even let go at all. He recognized the fear. 

With hesitation, the mask was removed. Ghost set it away from Phil, as it was what he believed Phil was scared of most. A small item was taken from his pocket as he knelt down where Price had been. Scars lined his face, however, he looked.. kind. 

“Phil?” Simon asked, not pushing for an answer, nor any contact. 

“This is scary, huh?” The man began. He kept a close eye on Graves’ every movement, like he was a ticking time bomb, but not treating him like such. Regressing wasn’t always pure… Sometimes it was screaming, crying, kicking, tantrums, and even self harm in some cases. Ghost was familiar with it all.

Just the change in tone, and the simple removal of the mask had Graves at least looking at Ghost. His eyes wandered to the scars, but always made it back to Ghost’s eyes. Deep brown, with gold-ish flecks in the light.

“That’s it, mate..” Ghost approvingly nodded to him. “Do you want something soft?” He offered, a hand already on something in his hand that he held in his pocket. 

Graves sniffled as he watched Ghost, blinking as the tears kept blurring his vision. He wasn’t as scary without the mask.. But was still big, towering over him with ease if he wanted to. Right now though, he remained kneeled down at Phil’s side. He slowly nodded.

“Okay, but you gotta be gentle, okay?” A little smile made an appearance on Simon’s face. He pulled out a small object. A very tiny blanket, with a lamb head on the top corner. It showed its age, old, a little rough around the ages. But it was soft, well maintained. Ghost gently set it Phil’s knee, but didn’t let his hand linger for more than a second.

Phil was careful. His hands shook as he reached for it, holding the small baby blanket in his hands. It was softer than he though it would be. His fingers traced along the smooth fabric at the edges, then he rubbed the soft, plush fabric at the center. The tears stopped flowing as hard, he hiccuped and finally took a deep breath. The little toy was nice, it even had a silly face stitched on. Clearly a hand done job.

“It’s okay… We won’t hurt you.” That time it sounded like a promise. Like Simon wasn’t going to even let the other’s hurt him. 

It coaxed a full breath into the little one’s lungs. 

“See? Deep breaths…” Ghost encouraged, taking a deep breath of his own as he began again, “It’s okay.. I get scared too. Price is my.. Baba… He takes good care of me… An’ if you let him, he’ll take good care of you too.” He remained just as encouraging as he shared his secret. 

Graves had to take a second to process. His bloodied lip back in his mouth as he visibly chewed it, not as hard as before, thankfully. He blinked at Ghost, then up at Price. He was a traitor, yet they were helping him like family. It was wrong, but he wanted it. Needed it. God knows he needs food, and actual sleep. Maybe he wasn’t as much of a prisoner as he thought.

“P’ice is scary…” Graves whispered, his eyes looking back to Simon, who chuckled a little at that.

“He’s just a big bear. They can be scary too, but you know what?” Simon waited until Phil made a curious sound. Ghost leaned in a tad to whisper, “Bears protect their young, and they help them. But, between you and me, he’s a big teddy bear.” 

It got Phil to giggle a little rather than sniffle. The tears still dripped, but they slowed to almost being gone. Graves actually grinned a little bit, holding the little blanket lamb closer to his chest.

“He’ll protect you, bub. Don’t sweat it, aye? We’ll let you fixed up, and comfy before anything. Couldn’t let a little one walk around with a busted lip, hm?” Ghost assured him, his hand, now ungloved, rested on Phil’s leg. There were no kicks, no sobs, no whimpers.

“Uh-huh.. Ghos’ fix me up?” Phil asked in the smallest voice, stumbling over his words easily. 

“‘course, bud. I’ll fix you up, and we might even be able to put on some cartoons for you while I do. How’s that sound?” Ghost responded, the smile reaching his eyes. Though he didn’t have much experience taking care of little ones, he’d do his best. 

Phil softly nodded. With that, they continued to a 141 safehouse without any more cries. He had Price on his left, and Ghost on his right. His mask stayed off, tucked into one pocket. Despite it all not being perfect, or near okay, he leaned his head onto Ghost’s shoulder. 

Sleep was inevitable. After his last few days of restlessness, it only made sense when Phil fell asleep on Simon's shoulder, the little lamb blanket never leaving his hands.

[debating on a chapter 2, thoughts?]

Agere tag list - @little-babybell

[mitsukkii]

Eyyy some arttt. Im trying to come out of my artblock and now that Voltron is BACK in 2024 its been a little easier.

Writing has been helping me hop back into the saddle and this scene comes from thissss fic https://archiveofourown.org/works/19463566/chapters/46328242

[creative-caramel-coffee]

I miss your writing😂 I need me some weems, now idk if you’ll consider writing age regression ? Bc I have another idea if you do.

So r is depressed bc they ran out of medication and forgot to refill it since they’ve become ill (me rn it’s horrid and messing with my head) no one’s seen or heard from r and weems has to do a welfare check. Here she finds a depressed and very sick reader. She knows of readers bad back ground (they are a shifter and was found hanging onto life after being abused in a facility like hydra for shifters) so when r becomes all clingy and very child like it confessed weems. R is so touch starved it’s insane, but with weems rn she’s like a child wanting and craving the affection just needing to be held. So naturally weems does that and that’s how she discovers the fever r has and that r ran out of her meds so weems nurses her better. Oh! Could also add r isn’t sleeping bc of nightmares due to their background?

Sorry for the long request and I’m not even sure it makes sense. I need my Damn pills lmao.

🕯️

A little sick

Pairings: Weems x Reader (platonic)

Word count: 1.4K

Summary: you're sick and regressed.

TW: agre? Sickness, depression, medicine (prescription),

A/n I’ve never written this kind of thing before so tell me if any of its wrong. Cute request tho :) let me know if you like it or want to see more of this kind of thing.

Part 2

Waking up and feeling like your bones were made of lead was not the way you wanted to start the day. It took all of your strength to pull yourself upright. Standing on shaky legs you wobble over to your dresser pulling out the pouch of pills that helped you with the aftermath of the facility and the depression it left. You knew firsthand how bad it could be to be a shapeshifter. Hunted and experimented on. You drew a deep breath pushing the thoughts away and exhaling slowly and shakily.

Unzipping the pouch, you frowned. All the blister packets were empty. You were out. You slouched dejectedly. It was going to be a long day. Yoko had already left for classes and to be honest you didn’t really think you could make it to the wardrobe to get changed let alone all the way to class. You sighed dejectedly and hobbled back to bed and laid down on your back staring at the roof. The feelings were getting harder to push away.

Your chest felt hollow, and you choked back a sob. The last time you were sick … was back there and to be honest you had no idea what would happen if someone found out here.

You zoned out feeling a familiar fuzzy feeling swallow your mind. You tried to push it away which only seemed to make you headache unbearable. The pain was what made you slip. Dropping hard, you felt your body shift. Soon the bed felt much bigger as you curled into a ball and cried. You were tired but scared to sleep, the nightmares seemed to be ever persistent.

You had no idea how long you had been crying, small sobs wracking the tiny body on the bed. Soon a knock sounded on the door.

Weems had had reports all day that you had been absent. Knowing your history with depression she knew it was imperative to do a welfare check as soon as she could. Looking at her calendar she swore. She had a copy if the nurses schedule for meds and prescription refills. Yours were out and it looked like nobody had picked up more for you.

She finally signed off the email she had spent the morning drafting to the mayor. Closing her laptop she toed on her heels, opting to take them off to give her feet a break when sitting and stood smoothing out her skirt. She hurried out the door and to your dorm. Hearing small noises inside she hesitated before knocking, she knew you were in there was was slightly terrified of what she would find inside the dorm.

Hearing the soft knock on the door you wiped a small fist over your eyes and sat up still silent tears running down your cheeks. You waited and heard the door open.

Weems peered into the dimly lit room; the windows still drawn. She saw a small lump on the bed and slowly walked over. The closer she got the more shocked she became. Why was there a toddler in the dorm and why did she look exactly like … y/n?

Small sad eyes looked up at her and sniffled. Weems stood awkwardly not really knowing what to do. She had a suspicion. She knew you were a shifter like herself. She looked down at you and it clicked. It made sense with the amount of trauma you had. You had regressed both physically and mentally to a child. Looking down at the sad child, you looked up at her and extended your arms.

“Up?” You asked with childlike innocence. Weems felt her heart melt. Gently she placed her hands under your arms and lifted you onto her hip. Almost straight away you buried your face in her neck, and she let out a soft gasp.

You were face too warm. Gently she peeled your face from her neck so she could look you in the eyes while she bounced you on her hip. You let out a soft whine at the loss of contact and weems shushed you as she placed a gentle hand against your cheek then forehead.

“Oh honey. Are you not feeling too good right now?” She asked. “Do you feel icky?” She said and you nodded and sniffled, the tears slowing.

“Alright. Well, we are going to get you some medicine then we are going to come back to my place for some sleep.” She said and you whined.

“No sleep.” You pouted and Weems frowned. “Cuddles?” You asked.

“Ok sweet girl you can have cuddles but why no sleep?” She asked.

“Mean dreams.” You pouted and she felt her heart break. Of course, you had bad dreams, that was almost assured with what you had been through. Why didn’t she think of that. Patting you back she used a hand to guide you back to her neck as you put your thumb in your mouth.

Weems winced knowing it probably wasn’t clean but there wasn’t much she could do about it right now and she preferred it to the crying. Holding you on her hip with one arm and the other on the back of your head she saw a small white fluffy thing under your blanket walking over and pulling out the stuffie you brightened as she tucked it between you and her chest as you wrapped you free arm around it.

“Alright honey let’s go get some medicine for you.” She said and left. She knew the school week enough to make sure nobody would see the two of you, God the rumours would be endless if students saw weems with a child. Careful to avoid any class windows Weems made it to the infirmary. As a shapeshifter herself she knew that the doses of medicine would need to match the physical size of the body. Balancing you on her hip she looked into your eyes.

“How old are you sweetheart?” She asked and you looked at her shyly holding up four fingers and puffing your chest out.

“Im four.” You grinned.

“Wow. Big girl huh?” She asked and you smiled wider.

Weems pulled out the bottle of medicine labeled 3-6 and any other supplies she would need. Carefully making her way back to her office she slipped back into her own quarters to take care of you.

You whined as she set you down on the couch but stopped as she lifted you back into her lap. You sure were clingy like this. Measuring out a dose of medicine Weems coaxed you into drinking it which made you stick your tongue out in disgust after.

“Yucky.” You said. Weems chuckled.

“Im sure it was sweet girl.” She said and stroked your hair. You buried your face in her chest and fisted your hands in her shirt.

“Alright bedtime. I think someone needs a nap huh?” She said and you whined.

“Nooo.” You said.

“Alright how about some cuddles instead?” Weems asked and you smiled.

“Cuddles?”

“Yes. Cuddles.”

“Yay cuddles.” You celebrated.

“Alright sweet thing lets go to my bedroom and we can cuddle.” She said knowing you would fall asleep in no time. Curling into her chest more and wrapping you small arms around Weems she felt her heart melt again as she ran her nails up and down your spine. You shivered and enjoyed the touch.

After a few minutes you seemed to be fighting sleep, eyes drooping before flying wide open again with a small whimper.

“Honey whats the matter? Why won’t you sleep love?” Weems asked softly.

“Bad dreams.” You whimpered softly and weems patted your back running her hands through your short hair. It was much shorter than normal probably from the shift.

“Honey, you need to sleep, I’ll be here the whole time. I won’t leave your side, ok? Do you think you could be a brave girl and get some sleep for me?” She asked softly.

Burrowing your face into her neck you nodded and shuffled around to get comfy. Weems knew either way based off how exhausted you seemed you would be asleep soon regards of what you wanted.

And as predicted after about five more minutes weems felt your breath even out against her chest and heard small snores coming from you. She smiled softly down at you and decided then and there she would never let anything hurt you again.

MASTERLIST