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Talking to littles is so cute 😭 they are so nice
‘they would NOT regress like that’ really? wow that’s so crazy i’m actually exploding you with my mind rn
Nostalgia Moodboard (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)
DNI NSFW blogs & regression-antis <3
feel free to ask my any questions / just chat in my inbox! i love to talk. :) info-dump, tell me about your day. im oober interested
it’s okay to be an independent kid. in a community where 90% of the kids in it desire caregivers and base most of the activities around it, i understand feeling out of place. older kids may feel different because they don’t need their mom or dad as much as a toddler regressor may need them. teen regressors may feel outcasted because they don’t /need/ a mom or dad and they’d much rather game or watch movies all day under no supervision. i want to remind you that no matter how you are, caregiver needing or caregiver-less and happy, you are so important to this community and your place here matters. being different is beautiful and it’s something you should embrace. you are beautiful, always. inside and out, kiddo!
i think your essa is pretty cool actually. i think they’re pretty neat
kiddos with uncommon AgeRe interests; what are they? feel free to info-dump!
i saw that your mood board requests are open! could i pretty please have a caregiver viktor from arcane board? tysm and i hope you have a wonderful day!!!!
- 🐶🐾
Hawoo! M would lik to request a moodboard based on chuck from Maze runner if possible pretty please? /nf
- ozzy 🐾
Also m unsure if m already sent dis becaus m tumblr glitches out, so if happen to see two of these, very sorry :/
can you make a teen regressor ( aged 12-16) moodboard with themes of space/astronomy
CASSIUS or Cass, Cash — 17yrz. / O7-14 reg. ( middle regressor ) age reg not shared online, only age dreaming. ☆ therian, otherkin, fictionkin : 🌲 autistic / developmentally disabled. ∞ ‘flip’ big brother. moodboard and fic writer.
— 🧦 : he/it. no they/them. agender, masculine leaning, boy-masc terms. fem compliments okay, ex: ‘pretty’ and ‘beautiful’. no fem terms, ex: ‘girl’.
— ⚔️ : Do Not Interact AgeRe purists, will police my page, if you are regressed while online. (i may curse on my page or post big-kid interests and i do not want to trigger anyone. if you feel you will be fine, feel free to follow anyway.) i am not anti kink. i block freely. i do not vague post.
saying goodbye to your older sib going off to college … bittersweet AgeReg story
“So.. you’re not.. coming back?” You ask, watching wearily as your sibling packs their final suitcase.
“I am. Don’t worry, kid, I’ll be back on holidays. It’ll be fine. You’re brave, aren’t you?” They ruffle your hair and pinch at your cheek, trying their best to reassure but ultimately failing to soothe.
“I’m going to miss you.” You choke out, feeling the tears begin to prick at the corners of your eyes. Your sibling exhales at the sight.
They cup your face. “If you start crying, I’ll start crying. We have to be strong for each other, kiddo. Can you do that for me? Can you be strong for me?”
“Why can’t I come with you?” You ask, allowing yourself to let loose a few tears. Your sibling sighs. Fear washes over you. How can you live without them?
Laughing, they rub your cheek. “You know the answer to that question, hon. You’re way too little to come with me. They don’t have kid classes in college, not that I know of.”
You cling to them, rub your cheek against their chest. “Please visit as much as you can. You will, won’t you? Won’t you?”
Hesitating, your sibling smiles. “Of course. I’ll visit next week, tell you how things are going. You can visit me, too. Promise to come visit me?”
Your eyes light up. “I’ll visit. I promise.”
“And you can sleepover. And we can watch movies together, and hit up the diner, and go shopping… on a budget.” You both laugh at the last part.
“I’m going to miss you too, little kid. I’m gonna miss you a whole lot.” Your sibling pulls you close, a tight hug.
“you’ll always be my best friend.” you finally say, melting into them.
𐔌 PNGS : blueish misc baby items ⟡˖
𐔌 PNGS : green baby clothes ⟡˖
to be a kid again, reading comic books, watching cartoons. big bowl of cereal. relive my childhood as a boy. toy cars, trucks, legos, figurines. a brother that i pester frequently but we are best friends. yearrnnn
unconventional caregivers, you’re seen. caregivers that curse, caregivers that aren’t parental and more so sibling coded, caregivers that can’t be full time, caregivers that want to be full time, caregivers that help with medical issues and not so much regression issues— you’re seen. your work is appreciated!
Hello! Reminder that moodboard requests / suggestions are open and im more than happy to make you something! you can do an emoji combo or give me an aesthetic name, character, etc.
sleepover with your sibling … ⋆˙⟡
joel finds you out in the cold. your parents haven’t returned from a supply run. you’re alone and scared— so he takes you back to his camp.
Joel slings his backpack over his shoulder and forces himself forward. He knows that stopping to rest now is essential if he plans on getting home, even if he so desperately wants to keep pace and make it there within the next hour. Logic wins. He pulls himself down and rests his fist under his chin.
A shuffle grabs his attention. He immediately pulls his gun, his eyes darting frantically, scanning for a threat. He lowers his weapon once the ‘threat’ enters his vision. A small kid, can’t be above 10. Shivering, clutching a dirty stuffed bear to their chest. You look terrified— rightfully so. With the world you live in now, it would be strange if you weren’t terrified. Joel approaches you slowly. Puts his gun away to show you he means no harm.
“Hey.. you, kid, under the porch. I ain’t gonna hurt ‘ya.” He crouches and offers his hand to you. You’re timid, untrusting. He understands, he’d probably have taught you to be untrusting too if he was your parent. He rolls a water bottle under the crack. You roll it back over his way.
“I promise it’s safe. Watch.” He takes a waterfall from the bottle. Showing you he didn’t do anything to the drink. Rolls it back to you. This time you accept it, gulping it down quickly. You were dehydrated. You haven’t left this spot since yesterday.
“Thank you..” you mutter, still afraid. Joel has a warm aura. You decide that maybe you can trust him. Maybe.
“Yeah. Come out from under there, kid. It’s ’bout to be night time. Don’t want a clicker to get ‘ya. I’ll keep you safe, bud.” He gives you his hand again. You take it. After pulling you out from under the porch he throws his jacket over you, not wanting you to freeze to death on the way home.
“I have a camp. Lots of food. Good things. You’ll like it. Other kids your age. You can play… whatever kids your age do. Learn to shoot, too, if you want. I teach that course.” You shrug. You aren’t sure what you want yet. You just want a warm bed, and to know that your parents are okay. “What were you doing under there anyway?” You both start the journey back to camp.
“Waitin’ for mama and papa.” Your voice cracks as you say it. Joel sighs.
“I’m sorry about that, kiddo. Really damn sorry.” He rubs the back of your head, trying to soothe the hurt, though he knows nothing could repair that wound. He’s lost a daughter before, he imagines it feels just like that, but reversed. Having to lose both your parents.
Hours pass and you’re nearing the camp. Joel can see how sleepy you are. He chuckles. Kids always look cute when they’re tired. “Think you can make it, kid?” You’re barely awake. You give him half a nod. He shakes his head.
“Listen, I can carry ‘ya. I don’t mind. I don’t bite, swear.” You blink, thinking it over. Drowsiness takes over and you reach for Joel. If he wanted to hurt you, he probably would have already. “Good. Good. C’mere, kiddo.” He reaches and pulls you up into his arms, letting you rest your head on his shoulder. “Sweet dreams. When you wake up you’ll be in a warm bed. Safe. I’ll pull some strings and get ‘ya some candy, too. A welcome home gift.”
You’re too tired to react. All you do is yawn and nod, letting the sleep overpower you and finally, it consumes you.
hey— you— yes, you— you’re allowed to curse when you’re regressed. you’re allowed to be angry. be sad. not want to be touched. not want to be around anyone but yourself. regression is a scary thing, it’s a trauma response, it’s a medical symptom— it’s a bunch of things. and it can be scary. how you act when regressed is not a reflection of you being a ‘bad’ person but more so a reflection of the wrong you have suffered at the hands of others and the trauma that you’ve survived. im proud of you. your regression doesn’t have to be fun. for some of us, it isn’t. sometimes it’s just scary. sometimes it comes when you’re walking home in the rain and you’re scared and wet and all you want is to get under your blankets and fall asleep but your house is blocks away and walking feels heavy. it’s okay. it’s okay. i promise.
kiddo that’s just trying to find any way to make cleaning more fun; bringing their dinosaurs along with them. come now, friends, before mama and papa get home, we have to brush our teeth and clean our room! really, we should have been finished hours ago… but it’s not our fault! we got lost watching tv! now, we’ve only got… 15 minutes! we can make it!
— fort build with your big sib
together you slowly build the fort. pillows, blankets, bed sheets. you fight over who gets to hang the final blanket but ultimately you decide lil sib should place it. lil sib is overjoyed and jumps around, giggling, grinning. big sib hums and runs to the kitchen to get snacks prepared. mom and dad are gone for an hour, we get the house to ourselves! no babysitter for us, big sib promised mama and papa that they were big enough to watch over lil sib. mama and papa decided that an hour wouldn’t be too bad.
big sib arrives back into their room with a plate of cookies, popcorn, crackers, pepperoni slices and other miscellaneous foods. lil sib gasps and takes a big handful of crackers. “ive got the tv ready, bubs! come on! i put on the elf movie!” big sib places the big plate inside their fort and gets settled in.
“bubs, where’s teddy?” lil sib whines. “right here, bubbie! see?” big sib hands the teddy to lil sib. a big grin appears on their face. yawns come from both of them, tired kids exhausted after a long fun day.
mama and papa come home to find their kiddos cuddled up inside a giant fort, crumbs all over their faces, holding hands. the elf movie dvd has stopped playing and is now just stuck on the ‘start’ page. they sigh. “did they eat all of the gummies?” mama asks, a chuckle leaving her as she looks down at her babies. “i think they did. it’s okay, at least they had fun, right?” papa smiles and carries the biggest off to bed, while mama cradles the littlest and follows right behind him.
shoutout to the age regressors that aren’t ‘little’. tweens i see you. teens i see you. young adults i see you. all big kids, i see you. your regression is just as valid as anyone else’s.
regressors with ‘scary’ theriotypes, i see you. wolves, tigers, lions, bears, coyotes— all of you. you are important. your experiences matter so much.
regressors that get mean when they regress, because it is a trauma response, you’re seen. you deserve kindness and gentle hands when you’re 3 and want to color, and also when you’re 8 and have growing pains, and also when you’re 12 and are starting to see yourself and form an identity and needing an adult more than ever to guide you and help your insecurities. to aid you and show you the right path.
regressors that were always torn down for showing emotions when they were younger so now you’re stuck at 10 and all you can do is cry and scream, beg for a hug and then pull away because of how scared you are.
regressors that feel like they’ll always be 13, scared, hurt, betrayed in their heart. waiting for someone to heal the inner child’s wound, because you feel like you can’t, because you’re still just 13 yourself.
tiredy and bored :/
I’m so tired (T ^ T) of being a big-girl right now I just wanna go home and put on my pjs grab my stuffie 🧸and watch some cartoons or a good movie 🎬 .
college has drained me sooo much my back hurts and so do my legs :((.
I saw your little!Daryl post and it warmed my heart! I was wondering if we could get more of that?? Being a cg myself, sometimes I just really wanna comfort that sweet boy. Could you maybe do something where he maybe gets anxious or overwhelmed but he’s in public when he starts to regress and he cries but the reader knows exactly what he needs, so they take him home, knowing he would be too embarrassed to be little around others. No worries if not since you said you weren’t sure how to write him! 🩵
"You'll be okay."
Little!Daryl x reader
A/N This sounds so sweet 🖤 This one will probably be a bit shorter sorry abt thatttt.. also sorry for the delay omg Fluff, 573 word count
You and Daryl were wondering around the Commonwealth. It's the middle of the afternoon, and just about everyone's going out to get lunch. As you and Daryl made your way through a busy, crowded area, you noticed daryl becoming increasingly anxious by the amount of people. It makes him feel small and stuck. His hands started to fidget nervously, his eyes darting in all directions. He slowly got closer to you, seeking your comfort. You quickly pulled him aside to a less crowded area, and put your hands on his shoulders. "Hey, hey.. whats wrong?" You ask, looking at Daryl with a concerned expression. He looked down, his eyes glossy with unshed tears. He feels so vulnerable, so nervous, so scared. You felt terrible for him, and you wiped a tear that began to fall. "Do you want to go home?"
He nods with a slight grunt, looking down at the ground and blinking away a few more tears. You brought his head to the crook of your neck, and he just stayed there, letting out silent sobs. His hands wrapped around you, gripping the fabric of your shirt. His grip tightened and loosened a few times, and he tried his hardest to not cry harder. "Lets go home.."
And home you two went.
You tried to avoid any overly crowded areas to not get him worked up again. Once you got home, you led him to the soft, plush couch and held him close. Neither of you needed to speak. You shifted into a more comfortable position with a sigh, and Daryl rest his head on your chest. You scratched his scalp a bit, and he pretty much purred. He brought his thumb up to his mouth, beginning to suckle on it. You smiled softly, brushing some of his hair back to get a better look at his face. "You had a little freak out huh, bug?" You say, your other hand rubbing his shoulder gently. Daryl nods, his thumb still in his mouth. "You're okay.. you'll be okay." "Would you like some snacks?" You ask, and he nods again. You get up, leaving him on the couch. You walk over to the kitchen, grabbing some of his favorites. They were these biscuits that are made for babies when they're teething. Along with that, you got a small box of apple juice. You took the straw out of the wrapper before poking it through the hole. You returned next to him on the couch and handed him the biscuits and juice. You watched as he snacked on them, becoming more calm by the second.
Once he was finished, he leaned into your side, and looked at you. He mumbled something about wanting his pacifier, so once again, you rose from the couch and went to you and Daryl's shared room to get it. You opened the door and headed straight fo the beside tables, opening the drawers until you find his pacifier. Then you head back to the kitchen, turning on the faucet to rinse off any small fuzzies, dirt, or dust that may have stuck on. You then sat next to daryl, he leaned into you, and you popped the paci into his mouth. He happily started suckling, his eyes slowly closing from sleepiness and comfort. Soon enough, he was asleep, cuddling you, and suckling on his paci.
Daryl's just a sweet boy, and he deserves to be treated as such.
Little one
Summary: teen reader! Daryl finds you lost in a shopping center, he decides to take you back to Alexandria. You find Daryl to be a potential father figure!!
Word count: 2216
warnings: slight cursing, mentions of blood
A/n: this isn’t cg Daryl but more of father figure Daryl? I’m thinking of making a second part cus it feels unfinished… anyway this is my second fic umm I still don’t know everything abt writing so it might be bad ?!?!? Ok enjoy ❤️
Daryl was riding his motorcycle to an abandoned shopping center, desperate to find medical supplies. He parks his bike near a tree a short distance away from the shopping center, getting leaves and fallen tree branches to cover and hide it. He takes his crossbow off his shoulder, double checking it to make sure its loaded with a bolt. Upon entering the building, he immediately heads towards the pharmacy. He makes sure to be quiet in order to not attract any of the undead that may be wandering around. As he arrives, he rummaged through cabinets, drawers, and boxes.
"Dammit, already raided." He grumbles to himself in a low, hushed voice. He turns around with a quiet sigh, getting ready to leave. Just as he heads towards the exit of the pharmacy he hears a small crunch. Quickly turning around, he heads towards the sound to investigate, his crossbow at the ready.
"In the corner of the pharmacy, there you are. Covered in what might be a mix of walker blood and your blood. Dirt covers your worn and torn clothing, and you look up at him with wide, terrified eyes. Daryl senses your fear and his eyes soften a bit.
"Hey... who are ya? Are ya alright?" He speaks in a calmer tone, his voice still having his gruff charm. He lowers his crossbow slightly, but still keeps it ready. You don't respond, you just continue to look up at him in fear. Daryl sighs and lowers his crossbow completely. He feels bad for pointing it at you, a lost teenager who's probably scared out of your mind. You likely mean no harm.
"Are ya... lost? Do ya need any help?" He continues. "Look, I uh, I got a group... they can help ya. They're good people." He's always been weary when revealing something like that to someone he just met, but come on, you're just a kid who probably needs help.
You fidget with your hands out of nervousness, fingers twiddling around. You take a deep breath and speak with a shaking voice.
"I'm lost.. I-I lost everyone.. I'm so scared..."
Poor kid.
"I don't know where I am, I just want my parents back!”
You start to cry, tears running down your dirty and blood stained cheeks. Daryl feels terrible. Shifting from one foot to the other, he thinks about taking you back to Alexandria to meet the rest of the group and probably live there. He thinks a little while longer, then makes his decision.
"I'll take ya back with me. I got a real nice place I stay at... there's food, clean water," He gets down to one knee to get to your level. "There's uh, nice housing, nice people. There's also other kiddos yer age too, Ya could make some friends." He looks up at you, chewing on the inside of his cheek. You stare right back at him, a look on your face as if you're considering it. You then nod your head as you wipe your nose on your sleeve, sniffling. "I wanna go with you..."
Daryl's slightly taken aback, but he recomposes himself.
"Are ya sure?" He asks, and you nod. "I'm sure... I wanna go with you."
After a few moments of silence, Daryl nods and stands up. He reaches out a hand to you which you take, and he helps you up. "Alright then," he sighs. "Let's go." You two begin to walk outside the pharmacy and to the exit of the shopping center. The dirt and debris crunch under your feet and the setting sun shines brightly. It’s almost nighttime, and the night chill is already slowly starting to settle in.
You follow him to where he had parked his motorcycle, standing behind him as he moves aside all the leaves and branches he hid it with. Daryl stands up the bike and gets on it, kicking back the stand. You get on behind him, wrapping your eyes around him. After he makes sure you're ready, Daryl revs the engine and the bike begins to move, gradually getting faster.
You both ride through the streets surrounded by woods, the wind whipping through your hair. You rest your head on Daryl's back, finding the wind and high speeds oddly soothing.
Time flies by fast and before you know it, you're at the gates of 'Alexandria Safe-Zone'. The guard at the gates lets Daryl in, and he can feel all the eyes on himself and you. Daryl ignores it, not wanting to deal with anything at the moment. He slowly rides the bike to the house he stays at. He knows he'll be questioned sooner or later about who he brought back with him, but he'll do it with it eventually.
He parks the motorcycle in front of the house and kicks the stand into place, getting off. He helps you get off the bike as well.
"Hey, uh, kid," he starts, scratching the back of his head as you two walk up his porch steps. "Ya can stay with me if ya want, for as long as ya want. I have a spare room ya can stay in. It's got a nice bed and everythin'." He unlocks the door and pushes it open. The house has a warm and cozy atmosphere. It's nicely furnished, but he didn't furnish it himself. All of the houses in Alexandria are pre-furnished as it was originally a quarantine safe zone for politicians when the outbreak first started.
Daryl puts down his crossbow and slips off his boots, leaving them by the front door. You copy him, not wanting to break any unspoken 'no shoes' rule that he may have. Daryl walks over to the couch, plopping down on it and sighing. You do the same, sitting at the corner of it. You bring your legs to your chest, making yourself feel small.
It's a new environment for you, you've pretty much gotten used to being in the woods all alone, having to be stealthy and dodge walkers left to right. But the change is nice, feels a little like how the world was before. It'll just take a bit to get used to.
You can finally get a good look at the man who rescued you. He has a rugged appearance, but for some of reason you don't find him very intimidating. You feel safe around him, like he has a calming fatherly presence.
Then, you break the silence, speaking in a shy voice. "Um, what's your name? I don't think you ever told me."
Daryl looks over to you, eyes softening once more. "Daryl." he responds. "Daryl Dixon." You nod and go back to looking around the house from where you are. You stare into space for a little while before another thought comes up.
"Could you show me where the spare room that you mentioned earlier is?"
Daryl turns his head to you once again and nods. He gets off the couch with a slight grunt. You stand up as well, following him as he leads you up the stairs. He stops in front of a door and opens it, holding it open for you. You walk in and take a look around the room. It's nothing super fancy, but it's well furnished and simple. The moon shines through the window at a perfect angle, dimly lighting up the room in a soft and dreamy glow.
You walk over to the bed that's placed beside the window and sit on the edge of it. "I'm tired..." you murmur sleepily, laying down on the bed. You untuck the blanket and pull it up to your chest. You snuggle into the covers, curling into an almost fetal position. Daryl chuckles to himself, watching you get comfortable. Daryl feels this weird, fatherly urge to protect you, to make sure you're cared for and loved. He has a feeling you two will get along pretty well.
You soon fall asleep, and he walks out of the room, shutting the door behind him. He goes over to his own room, getting ready for bed himself. It's been a long day, riding out to an abandoned shopping center for medical supplies and instead coming back with a lost, orphaned teenager in need of care. He settles into bed, pulling the blankets over himself and falling asleep.
.
.
.
In the morning, Daryl goes downstairs to make his breakfast. You've beaten him to it, already eating orange slices on the couch. You hear his steps and turn your head around, looking up at him.
"Hey..." You mutter, then going back to eating your orange. "Hey." Daryl responds, brushing his hair back a bit and going over to the kitchen. He grabs a glass of water and makes himself some oatmeal that he found during his last supply run. Once its ready, he pours half of it into a separate bowl to share with you. Daryl walks over to the couch and sits beside you, placing the bowl on the coffee table in front of you.
"Ya should eat some more," he starts, grabbing a spoonful of oatmeal and eating it. He waits to finish until continuing. "Getting some oatmeal in ya is good, especially if ya haven't eaten in a while."
You look over at him and then to the bowl in front of you. You set down your orange slices on a napkin and grab the bowl.
"Thanks..." you responded, eating a spoonful. You finish it up pretty quickly, which makes sense. You haven't eaten a proper meal in who knows how long. You eventually finish eating both the oatmeal and orange slices, and you settle back onto the couch. Suddenly, you remember that you're still dirty and need to clean up. Your face flushes out of embarrassment. Have you really been looking like that this whole time?
"Do you have a shower that I could, uh, use?" You asked Daryl in a timid voice, now feeling hyper aware of your dirty appearance.
"Yeah, to the right of yer room." He replied, nodding his head towards the stairs. You nod your head in gratitude, getting up from the couch and going to the bathroom.
.
.
.
That shower was possibly the most refreshing one you've had in a while. There was warm water, soaps, and possibly the fluffiest towels you’ve ever seen. But now you have another problem, clothes. The only ones you have were the torn, dirt covered ones you've been living in for the past few months or maybe even over a year. You wrap a towel around yourself and crack open the bathroom door just enough to peek your head out. "Daryl?" You call out, face flushing from embarrassment once again. "Could I borrow some clothes?" There's a moment of silence before you hear him shout back a "yeah", and you close the door, waiting. You wait for a few minutes until you hear the sound of his heavy footsteps, cloth falling on the floor, and then a knock. After that, he walks away. You wait a few seconds before cracking open the door and taking the clothes he left for you. It's a black shirt with a faded metal band logo printed in white, the pants are dark blue and denim. They're definitely going to be too big and baggy for you, but you wear it anyway.
You tighten the waistband of the jeans to fit you better, and you come out, hair wrapped in a towel. You walk down the stairs, damp feet pattering against the wooden floor. Daryl's still sitting on the couch, but in a more lounged position. You sit close to him and take a breath.
You begin to speak. “Um... this might be a little weird, but to me, you feel like a father." You tell him, and his eyes widen. But he looks touched. "We just met yesterday, but it feels really comforting to be around you." You twiddle your fingers, looking a little embarrassed. But Daryl smiles. It’s subtle, but there’s still a smile on his face.
"Tha's awfully sweet." His voice is softer than you've ever heard before. "I've never had a little one of my own, always kind of wanted to, though. I just don't think i'd be a good dad."
You smile at him, chuckling. "I think you would. You sort of have this really fatherly presence. It was unusually easy for me to warm up to you." You shift close to him, resting your head on his shoulder. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. You smile more. "Maybe I could be your little one. You can like... adopt me, or something."
Daryl chuckles again. "We'll see, kid. We'll see."
You look up at him and then go back to snuggling. You curl up beside him, getting so very comfortable. You feel safe in his embrace, you never want to leave.
“Can we see maybe… now?” You ask in a playful way, looking up at him again. Daryl looks down at you with a slightly wider smile, shaking his head.
“Well, I-… yeah,” he sighs. “Alright, yer gonna be my little one. I’m never gonna let anything happen to ya.” He holds you a little tighter. “I might not be the best daddy, but I’m sure as hell gonna try.”
Cuddling with cg!daryl during a storm...
You were little, kneeling on the bed to look out of the window. The wind howled, blowing around objects in the Alexandrian streets, thunder roared, and lightning flashed, lighting up your surroundings. Daryl was laying beside you, an arm tucked under his head. He looked up at you with soft eyes as you watched the storm with the childike wonder that he always admired. He saw how you looked in fascination as you watched the zig-zag like lines of lightning strike, and how after, you would sort of prepare yourself for the possible loud roar of thunder. Soon, your knees became sore, so you lay back down beside Daryl, tucking yourself in his large arms. His cuddles and hugs were so comforting, it felt like a huge weighted blanket full of love and care was wrapped around you. Daryl rolled over slightly to be able to grab your pacifier from the beside table, and he popped it in your mouth, which you suckled happily. You closed your eyes and burrowed further into his warm embrace, one of his hands coming up to stroke your cheek, then your head. He looked down at you as if you were the most precious thing to him, which you were. You were like a delicate little flower which he would never dare to harm. He would never harm you, he wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he did. You lay there in your caregivers arms, your eyes slowly fluttering shut, body relaxing.. the last thing you remember is a soft kiss being placed on your forehead.
𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 ʚ profile pictures ɞ ⋆⁺₊⋆
｡ﾟ•┈୨ please credit me if you use ୧┈• ｡ﾟ
